Eye For An Eye

by Lia Monde

 

Bobby entered the Club and checked out the offerings. The music was loud and the lights were low. Even though it was early, it was already getting crowded. Not bad for a weeknight. Lots of pretty young things. That was good. Plenty of opportunities.

He felt very horny. But, he also felt lucky. Bobby had picked up a lot of girls in this Club and he had almost always scored. He attributed it to his good looks. But he smiled as he also fingered the packet of GHB in his jacket pocket. Some people called it a date rape drug. He called it 'Bobby's little helper'.

The GHB was odorless, tasteless and colorless. It acts fast and makes the victim semi-conscious, but responsive. The best part was that it removed inhibitions and made the girl act in a sexually affectionate way. The next morning, she usually had little or no memory of what happened. In Bobby's mind, it was the perfect 'love potion'. It cut through a lot of that slow seduction dance and let him cut right to the chase. Besides, he chuckled to himself, they got what they deserved. Girls that came to a place like this were looking for it. He was just providing a service.

He moved to the bar and ordered a drink. He scanned the room for targets. A couple of possibilities caught his eye. Leaning against the bar and sipping his drink, he considered which lines he might use.

As he pondered the choices, a woman moved next to him and ordered a drink. She was a knockout. Just his type. She was short, maybe even petite. She had a dark complexion and was dressed to kill. Her perfume was erotic and strong. No sense waiting he decided, and went into attack mode.

"That's a great perfume," he said. Women loved that kind of crap.

She turned to him with a shy smile and said, "Why thank you."

Bingo. We've got a live one. He immediately pressed the advantage. "Hi. I'm Bobby," he said with his most practiced smile.

She returned in kind, "My name's Joan."

As the bartender arrived with her wine, he said, "Can I buy you that drink, Joan?"

She seemed to consider for a second, then said, "Sure". She settled onto the stool next to his.

Bobby went into his normal routine. It worked perfectly. As they had a few drinks, she warmed to his small talk and before long she was acting very amorous. She placed her hand on his arm and laughed at all of his jokes. It turns out that she was in town on business and staying at a motel.

It couldn't have gotten much better, he thought. An out-of-towner lowered the risk of meeting again. That rarely mattered anyway. In most cases, the drug removed any clear memory of events. This was almost too easy. But he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He moved to close the deal.

He leaned toward her and whispered in her ear with all of his well-honed charm, "How about you and I go to some place quieter?"

Joan seemed eager. She moved her hand to his thigh, shifted her body to reveal her lacy red bra and attractive tits. She whispered back, "That's just what I was thinking."

He almost tripped over himself getting ready to leave. It looked like he wouldn't even need the drug tonight. They decided to stop at a liquor store, then go to her room. It was a typical chain motel. He'd used similar rooms for his conquests many times. He settled in for a night of pleasure, while Joan fixed their drinks.

As they sipped on their drinks and he started to caress her, he became a little tipsy. Joan didn't seem to notice and urged him to drink up. He complied. Before long, he slipped into even more of a warm and relaxed stupor.

He was conscious, but was having difficulty thinking clearly. At the same time, Joan's attitude and manner changed.

"Well, Bobby, how are you feeling?"

He leered at her over his drink and mumbled, "I'm feeling sexy".

Joan smiled, but it was more evil than friendly. "That's good. You seem ready for what I have in mind." She told him to get undressed and he followed her orders. He was a little unbalanced, but responsive. He felt very passive. As he undressed, Joan revealed her plans.

"It's payback time, asshole. You've probably done this date rape trick lots of times, huh. Pick up some unsuspecting girl with your sweet talk and then slip her some drugs. Wham, bam, thank you ma'am. Then, you're out of there. The next day she wakes up with a bad hangover and very few memories. Except maybe some bruises." Her voice was dripping with disgust and anger

Bobby heard what she was saying and knew it wasn't what should be happening. However, for some reason, he wasn't alarmed and waited docilely for her to continue.

"A couple of weeks ago you picked on the wrong girl. My little sister. She didn't remember you, or much of the 'date'. Fortunately, I was with her when you met at the bar. I remembered your face. It wasn't hard to track you down."

Although Bobby was in a haze, he didn't like the sounds of this. But, he couldn't stay focused. He wondered what this had to do with having sex and continued undressing.

Joan continued, "Now it's your turn to see how it feels." She held up the empty packet of GHB that she had put in his drink. "It acts fast doesn't it? Of course, you know that."

By now, Bobby was naked. Although part of his mind was beginning to comprehend and get scared, he was unable to form a plan to do anything about it. The drug had weakened his will to do anything independently. The dose he used usually knocked the girls out. They were responsive, often even affectionate, but were almost in a semi-conscious trance. However, with his larger body size, the GHB wasn't having the full mental effect on him. He was passive alright, and unable to resist directions, but a lot more conscious of what was going on than his victims. Joan seemed to be counting on that.

"So, let's get started and see how you like it, lover boy," Joan said with a hard edge in her voice. She reached into the dresser and pulled out some clothes. "You like you're little girls all dolled up and sexy don't you? Why don't we see how you look in this." She tossed a white and black outfit on the bed. He slowly turned his head and focused on it. It was a trashy French maid's costume. It was frilly and covered with lace. Low cut at the top and with a very short skirt.

While he was staring dumbly at it, Joan was tossing other things onto the bed. A garter belt and fishnet stockings. A red, push-up bra. Pink panties covered with ruffles and lace. Shoes with 3 inch spike heels. When she was done, she turned to him and said, "Dress up time, asshole."

Joan stepped toward Bobby and applied adhesive to his chest. He wobbled a little and just watched her. She reached into a bag and pulled out a pair of false breasts. In one quick motion, she pressed firmly and held them until they attached to his chest. His eyes widened in surprise and wonder. His schizophrenic reaction continued. The small rationale part of his mind was recoiling in fear. The larger, drug influenced part treated it as just something to observe and go along with. This made it even worse.

Joan stepped away and laughed, "Super glue is great. Those suckers won't come off easily."

The combination of his drunken condition and the unusual weight almost made him topple forward. She stopped his fall with a push to his stomach and he sat back onto the bed. He couldn't help giggling.

Joan knew the drug was causing this reaction, but it annoyed her nonetheless. It reminded her that her poor sister had probably reacted in a similar, almost willing manner when this predator had drugged and raped her. She restrained herself from slapping him. She reminded herself she had much more ambitious plans. She wanted this all to look voluntary and a bruise might create some doubt. She returned to business. The sooner this was over, the sooner she could get away from this piece of garbage.

"Put the clothes on, bitch," she barked and handed him the garter belt and stockings.

As aware and repulsed as part of his brain was, the drug made him compliant. He was powerless to resist. He set about the task of dressing. It was slow going with his impaired movements, but Joan pulled things into place and in minutes he was fully attired.

"Just a few more things, jerk." Joan dumped make-up on the counter. With Bobby observing passively, she glued on long red fingernails and false eyelashes. Next, she applied overdone make-up – bright lipstick, rouge, and purple eye shadow. She did it quickly. She deliberately wanted it to look cheap and inexpert. Not slowing to observe the results, Joan grabbed a needle and pierced Bobby's ears. Ignoring his squeal of pain, she inserted large plastic hoop earrings into the fresh holes. Matching sets of colored bracelets from the dollar store were added to each wrist. Bobby shook them and laughed at the noise they made. Joan finished the job by pulling a cheap, bleach blond wig onto his head.

While his appearance was transformed from a confident, athletic, mid-twenties, skirt-chaser, to something approaching a feminine, wannabe shemale, he was still easily recognizable as Bobby. Anyone who knew him would have no doubt who it was. That's exactly the look Joan wanted to complete her plan.

"Enough preliminaries. Let's take a look at you. Stand up." Joan helped pull Bobby to his feet. The alcohol, drug and the spiked heels made him very wobbly. She led him slowly to the mirror. Bobby was quite a sight.

As he swayed in front of the mirror, Bobby tried to bring the image into focus. He looked like a tawdry drag queen. The maid's outfit seemed like a cheap effort at looking erotic.

But in his befuddled state, that's not what registered in his mind. "Pretty", he said. He was entranced. He stared at the image before him. He saw the black satin skirt flared out over the petticoats. His hands moved from the puffed sleeves, along the lace-lined bodice, and down to the fishnet stockings embracing his hairy legs. His fingers lingered for a moment on the pink lace leg garter.

Throughout this foggy inspection, his eyes were glued to the mirror as if checking out a girl across the bar. Now, he paused and looked down at himself and saw the outfit on his body as if for the first time. He recoiled a little but couldn't get his mind to sort it all out. He looked up, then down again, registering that something was not right. A cold sense of dread formed in his stomach, but the drug wouldn't allow him to act on it. He returned his gaze to the mirror and continued to inspect his new appearrance.

While this was going on, Joan was busy at her suitcase. She was working on setting up a tripod and loading a digital camera.

Suddenly, he smiled wickedly and glanced around, as if to see if anyone was looking. Then he pulled up the skirt and looked at the panties. He seemed to have forgotten that he had put them on minutes earlier. He turned to Joan and whispered as if sharing a secret, "I see her panties."

She glanced over from fine-tuning the camera settings and replied, "Yes, very soon everyone will see her panties." This was going just as planned. This revenge was going to be delicious.

Bobby's hand started to feel the soft pink material. As his fingers moved through the ruffles, he began to get aroused. This sensation reached the rational part of his mind that was swimming in and out of contact. For a moment, his eyes widened in panic and he tried to shake himself into control. The effort was fruitless. Just as with his victims, his thinking had lost the battle for control to the sensing part of his body. It slid back to observe the events with no hope of influencing them. But he also couldn't ignore what was happening. He felt he had a front row seat at his own degradation.

As his hand continued to massage his penis through the tight panties, it became harder. "Very nice," he moaned.

Joan saw what was going on and slapped his hand away. "Not yet slut. Just stand there. I'll be with you in just a second."

Bobby was disappointed at being interrupted. He stood for a moment, and then his attention turned to his chest. Looking in the mirror, he turned sideways and stuck his false breasts out. He grabbed them with both hands through the costume and started to rub and squeeze them. "She has nice boobs," he said to no one in particular. "Big boobs."

"Yah, very big boob," Joan chimed in. "I'm ready. It's show time, girly. Come over here."

Bobby did an involuntary titter at being referred to as a girl. He took little, mincing steps to the wall where she had pointed and almost stumbled. "What are we going to do?"

"We're going to take some pictures of Bobby in his pretty dress and send them to all his friends. Won't that be nice?" Joan explained.

Inside Bobby was panic-stricken. On the surface, he appeared thrilled. Joan continued, "They'll be beautiful. I'm sure your business colleagues will share them with all your clients. Conservative clients aren't they Bobby? They're going to be so surprised at your little hobby."

Joan explained how she wanted Bobby to pose. She started taking pictures. Simple ones at first, then increasingly erotic. She made sure to get close-ups of his face to guarantee recognition. She had him stand and lift his skirt to reveal the pink lingerie. He actually seemed to be enjoying it and responded to her requests to smile and preen; to act affectionately and suck erotically on his finger.

After a few pictures of him lounging on the bed, Joan ordered Bobby to spread his legs and begin to rub his penis. He didn't need much urging. He was really getting into this and set about the task with a sort of dazed enthusiasm. When he was erect, she got close-ups. He wouldn't be able to deny that he was aroused by the situation. Pictures didn't lie.

As she stood up, she said, " I think that's enough of those."

Bobby looked at her and naively asked, "Why aren't you in the pictures?"

Joan chuckled to herself as she mounted the camera to the tripod. "Does Bobby want me in the pictures?" she asked coyly.

Bobby was still working on the rigid penis that was stretching the sheer fabric of the panties. He responded breathlessly, "Yes".

"Your wish is my command. In a minute. In just a minute." Bobby was engrossed in his own manipulation and didn't seem to hear her.

Joan checked the camera battery and storage. Both were fine. Then she placed her hands on the bureau, rested for a second and collected her thoughts. She took a breath as if steeling herself for what was about to come. The pictures would be damaging, but they didn't begin to compensate for the harm he had done to her sister and others. There were a more things that had to done.

She removed her blouse to reveal the lacy red bra that had helped bait the hook at the club. Now she had Bobby's attention again. He stopped masturbating and stared at her. She unzipped her skirt and wiggled out of it, revealing a matching set of red, hi-cut briefs and lace topped stockings. Bobby licked his lipstick-covered, bright red lips.

"Does Bobby like?" she asked.

Bobby nodded stupidly and mumbled, "Very pretty."

"That's right. Now we have two pretty girls. And what do pretty girls want Bobby?

He hesitated a moment to let his muddy mind work, then looked up salaciously and said, "They want sex. They want sex with Bobby."

"Do you want to have sex Bobby? Do you want to have sex with me?" Bobby nodded and reached toward her feebly. "Good Bobby, we'll have sex just like you had with all those girls."

Bobby's grin widened.

Joan reached into the drawer and pulled out a belt and attached it to her waist. Then she pulled out a dildo. It was penis shaped. It was large and thick and firm. She slipped it into place in the belt and tightened the straps so it stuck out. It pointed at Bobby threateningly.

He got a quizzical expression on his face. As reality dawned on him, his mind started to scream. But his body was paralyzed. Joan picked up the remote for the camera. It fit easily into the palm of her hand. As she advanced on the bed, Joan could see the fear flit in and out of his eyes, fighting with the drug-induced acquiescence.

"What's the matter Bobby? You said you wanted sex. Isn't this how you like it? A little forced. No resistance."

Bobby didn't move. He toyed nervously with the frills on the petticoats.

"That's right Bobby. Just sit there. 'Girls just want to have sex.' Isn't that what you said. Here's your chance my pretty." Joan knelt up on the bed and maneuvered the huge rubber penis right into Bobby's made-up face. She had arranged the camera to focus on him but not capture her face. The photos would appear to show Bobby cavorting with his dominating mistress. With the remote, she snapped the first picture.

"You like what you see don't you."

Bobby stared at the enormous dildo inches from his face and blinked at the camera flash.

"Smile for the camera, Bobby. We want everyone to see your happy face. Look eager for the camera"

He was confused, but compliant. He smiled a coquettish smile and she captured it with a flash.

"Now kiss it Bobby. Kiss and suck it with your pretty girl lips!" she said insistently while thrusting the penis forward against his teeth.

Although madness raged within his mind, he did as he was told. He started to lick the strap-on and fondle it with his hands. He obediently kissed it and mugged for the pictures. When he reached for her thigh, Joan pushed his hand away. "Don't touched me. Play with yourself pervert," she snarled.

Bobby dropped his hand to his panty-clad lap. In the hyper-sexed state the drug produced, he easily stroked his penis back to erection.

"Now swallow it", she demanded.

His expression indicated both horror and eagerness. Joan marveled at the drug's power to overcome the most basic inhibitions and stimulate sexual appetite.

Bobby opened his pink lips wide and started to engulf the huge dick. It stretched them and he proceeded slowly, almost tenderly. Satisfied that she had enough pictures of his apparently willing blowjob, Joan lost her patience. She grabbed the back of his head and pushed the dildo into the back of his throat. He gagged and jerked his head. She wouldn't let go.

"That's a good little cocksucker," she spoke to the conscious part of his mind she hoped would remember. "You like this don't you. I bet that's what you say to your 'dates'. Isn't it."

After a several seconds of weak thrashing, Joan withdrew it a little and then rammed it home again a few times for good measure. She finally withdrew completely. Bobby fell forward onto his knees and elbows and struggled to catch his breath.

The pain brought him up to a level of slightly more lucid consciousness. It didn't however, increase his ability to resist the humiliation. But, it did burn flashes of memory into his brain. He still couldn't retain the face or name of his tormentor. But he would never forget the details of his degradation and the reasons for it.

Joan tried to contain her anger and maintain her composure. However, she was losing the battle. She kept visualizing how he doubtless forced the same acts on his helpless victims. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "Time for the final act, Bobby,"

Joan quickly maneuvered around so the dildo lined up with his upraised butt. She grabbed his panties and pulled them down to his thighs. She checked to make sure they were in view of the camera lens. Grabbing his hips, she brought the tip of the penis up to his puckered ass.

Reacting on some visceral level, Bobby tried futilely to pull away. But Joan would have none of it. She forced his head down to the bed and pushed forward. "Relax and enjoy it girl," she said through gritted teeth. "It's just a little sex, Bobby."

Whether it was the last scintilla of his resistance or the size of the dildo, she couldn't penetrate. She leaned her head back and adjusted her grip on his hips. Then she thrust the full force of her weight forward, while simultaneously pulling his hips toward her. The tip of the penis entered.

Pain shot through his body. Bobby tried to scream but his face was buried in the blankets. He squirmed, yet Joan held him fast. He was impaled and couldn't escape.

With sweat on her forehead and taking deep breaths, Joan pressed the advantage. She leaned her weight forward and the shaft slowly inched into Bobby's body.

Bobby's mind collapsed into a state of mild delirium. The final shreds of his self-esteem seeped away and his body went limp to accept his defeat.

When she was almost completely in, Joan stopped. She picked up the remote and snapped the final pictures. Then, noticing he had ceased struggling, she pushed the final inches and rested.

Joan paused a few seconds to let his ass adjust to the intrusion. It wasn't out of concern; rather she wanted to make her job easier. When she felt his ass relax, she started a slow withdrawal. Keeping the tip of the penis in his ass, Joan hoped the drug would deliver the ultimate psychological humiliation.

"Now you're going to enjoy it Bobby. Get into it. The drug will help. Isn't that how it works. Even when you think you want to resist, it makes you want to feel good. Now it's your turn." As she spoke, Joan slowly began to pump.

Bobby could only listened passively and feel every thrust. As he stretched and became looser, the dildo became lubricated and the pace increased. With the pain subsiding, the drug and Joan's suggestions made him once again become aroused.

Joan noticed, "I knew it, you slut. You like this." She picked up speed.

Bobby couldn't help himself. He started to rock in time with her rhythm to increase the stimulation. He despised himself, yet he pushed his hips back to meet her every thrust. What remained of his conscious mind didn't know whether to be more horrified by what was happening to him or by the fact that on some level he was enjoying it. He came closer and closer to an orgasm he didn't want, but desperately desired to have.

Joan pushed on, approaching exhaustion. "Bobby likes it rough, doesn't she?"

With a few more hard pumps to his steamy ass, Bobby's body shook as he climaxed and spurted violently on the bed.

They both fell forward onto the bed with Joan panting heavily on his back from the workout. The dildo was still deep inside him. When she caught her breath, she spoke into his ear with the final venom she could muster.

"I know you hear me Bobby. That's what it's like to be fucked against your will. Don't ever forget it. If you ever rape another woman again, I'll hunt you down and make this seem like a walk in the park."

Bobby heard every word. As they echoed in his mind, he finally passed out believing that at least his ordeal was over.

 

When he came to, he was sitting in his car in a parking lot. He was disoriented, but it looked vaguely familiar. His temples were throbbing with a killer hangover. He shook his head to clear his mind. His body felt bruised and sore, especially his ass. He realized his mouth had a gag in it and he couldn't speak. Confused, he looked into the mirror and staring back at him was a woman with blond hair and gaudy make-up. He blinked several times and saw his own features clearly recognizable beneath the feminine face paint. He started to sweat and breath heavily, but it was difficult with the mouth gag. His nose filled with the scent of strong and cheap perfume. He looked down and saw that he seemed to have large breasts and that he was dressed in a short, French maid's outfit. At first, he didn't comprehend. Then in a wave, vague memories from the previous evening started floating into his consciousness. He was repulsed and scared and began to retch as pieces of each humiliation flashed in his mind. It was like a slap in the face and brought him fully alert. He couldn't remember who had done this to him or all the details, but the flashbacks, the slinky outfit and his tender ass assured him something very real and very bad had happened.

Bobby knew he had to get home and out of this outfit before anyone saw him like this. He moved to reach for the ignition and noticed for the first time that his hands were secured tightly to the steering wheel. He yanked at them and only got a shot of pain for his effort. He was buckled tightly in and couldn't move his satin clad body either. His twisting attempts to escape only made his breasts shake and his skirt rise up to reveal pink panties.

Bobby settled back and tried to get hold of his thoughts. He looked outside and his horror deepened. He was parked in his company's lot. Right in front of the main entrance in the president's parking space. Everyone coming in would see him. His mind cried out that this couldn't be happening. From the level of the sun, he knew all his business associates would start arriving soon. He had to get away.

He twisted his neck and for the first time and saw a sign taped to the back left passenger window. It was written in what seemed to be red lipstick. He had to read backwards, but he deciphered what it said.

"HI. MY NAME IS BAMBI. YOU CAN TAKE PICTURES, BUT PLEASE DON'T RELEASE ME UNTIL NOON. I'VE BEEN A VERY BAD GIRL AND I'M BEING PUNISHED."

Despair overcame him. The first cars started to pull in. He struggled one last time but to no avail. The first people approaching the entrance did a double take, then walked up to the car. He tried to avert his face, but it was no use. A crowd was gathering and peering in from all sides. All looked surprised. Some appeared appalled. When they recognized him, a lot of his male friends began laughing. Their humor increased when they read the sign. Some pointed at his panties and started making rude remarks through the slightly opened window.

Bobby attempted to ask for help but the gag prevented it and his struggles and bouncing tits just increased the crowd's fascination. No one seemed willing to help and end the entertainment. Before long, Bobby noticed people were passing around something that looked like photos. One of the guys looked at one and said "Hot date, Bambi?" And then burst out laughing as he showed Bobby a picture of himself in the maid's outfit sucking on a huge penis shaped dildo. Several women glanced at the pictures and stormed away in disgust.

When his boss finally arrived, he was clearly annoyed to be denied his parking space and he pushed through the crowd to investigate the commotion. The staff quieted to see his reaction. When he had taken in the situation and seen the pictures, someone asked if they should release Bobby. Bobby nodded vigorously and his eyes pleaded.

The boss considered it for a second, then looking at Bobby said, "Nah. Like the sign says, leave 'Bambi' here until noon. Then call the police. They can take care of the pervert. And tell personnel to prepare dismissal papers." With that, he left and entered the building.

It was clearly a popular decision and the circus atmosphere returned. A couple people brought cameras. The guys competed with each other for the top joke and the most lascivious suggestion.

Bobby knew his career was over and his life was ruined. His overwrought and exhausted body gave up and he slouched forward. His bladder cried out for relief and he didn't have the energy or the will to stop it. A wet spot slowly formed in the front of his panties and the hoots and laughter reached a new height.

  

  

  

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