Good girl

“Perfect!” Devon/Becks proclaimed, standing behind her husband. She didn’t know if her smile was because she was having fun or because of how funny he looked so scared. She never saw Milo without his natural confidence, but she could tell he wasn’t confident. She wouldn’t necessarily feel confident either if she were wearing his outfit. He tried to balance in the black plastic platform heels that came with his “costume.” His shapely legs were made smoother by the nylon stockings and girders that ended above mid-thigh. He nervously snapped his stocking tops as he took in his new clothes. She couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of his butt. The black thong had all but disappeared between the two perfect cheeks; the waistband had been pulled up high on his hips. The frilly black and white apron acted as a skirt but did a poor job. His groin was fully covered by the black and white front, but the fringe belt just covered the top of his bubble butt. His stomach was fully exposed until the bottom of a tiny black lace corset top that lifted his boobs to even more prominence. The straps of the bra were extremely strained, drawn as tight as piano wire. His wrists were decorated with white frill cuffs, and around his neck was a black choker. Finally, Devon/Becks styled his hair in a messy bun, held together by a few pins and a cheap headband with a maid’s cap on it. She had done his makeup. He hadn’t quite mastered all the slutty and sultry looks he would need, but he was getting good at the basics. She took her experience and perfected his look with a sultry cat’s eye and passionate red lips, to match his new red wig.

“I’m a porn star,” Milo stated bluntly. He was disgusted by what had happened to his life and body. He was now the lesser sex—the decorative sex. Sure, he knew some women could rise above the disadvantages of their gender, but what did it mean for him to now become an ornament for those with real power? He tried to ignore it, but he had to get over the shock that this was his body. If he was going to be a hero, he had to continue to focus on driving it like a body like this should be driven.

“No, you’re not,” Devon tried to correct him, but she was also seeing what he was seeing. “I mean, you’re a glamor model,” she said with a smile.

“Same fucking thing,” he huffs with an eye roll, turning around and walking to the door. His legs were still wobbly, but he was getting better with every step. He hummed a tune in his head to remember the beat that helped him roll his hips more naturally. As they neared the bedroom door, Milo took a final deep breath before opening it.

Outside the door, Leroy and Natalie were waiting. This video was a typical one Milo had watched on a few OnlyFans pages. A girl dressed sexily (usually as a secretary, schoolgirl, or, in Milo’s case, a maid) walks by the camera, smiles, and says something suggestive. Then a man’s voice says something equally vulgar behind the camera. Milo loved POV videos, but he hated his POV now.

“Action,” he heard as his cue to open the door. Milo slowly opened the door, entered the hallway, and slinked his way toward Natalie and Leroy. He tried to focus on swinging his legs slowly to add more of a sway to his hips. As he approached the camera, he maintained eye contact. He loved it when girls did that. He stopped in front of the tripod, held his hands behind his back, and bounced slightly to make his tits even more enticing. “How may I serve you… sir?” he said slowly, looking up at the camera while biting his lip.

“Goddamn,” Leroy couldn’t help but say at the slutty vision in front of him.

“Cut!” Natalie shouted from behind the camera. “Damn it, Leroy. That’s not the line.”

“I couldn’t help it. I’m only human,” Leroy defended himself as he rubbed the back of his head.

“I actually think it will work. Let’s watch it back,” Leroy said, thinking it wasn’t that bad.

All four of them gathered in front of a monitor as they watched the video. Becks/Devon couldn’t help but marvel at how sensual her husband moved—how natural it seemed for him. How sexy Paris looked. “Goddamn,” they heard as the video ended. They all had a laugh and decided that it actually worked—well, all but Milo/Becks, who thought it worked. He hated how the video showed a genuine response to his new curves, not something acted. It was just more evidence that his world was going to be very different for a while.

The next video was another maid scenario. This time, Milo/Paris was given a mop, and he was supposed to pretend to mop. Milo held onto the mop and tried to mop the floor. The only problem was Milo had never mopped a floor before. So Paris mainly used the mop as a way to balance as she tried to move it in circles on the floor. He soon felt a sudden slap on his ass. He turned on his heels, moving the hand holding the mop between his tits.

“Oh, hello, sir. Is there anything you need me to clean up?” she delivered the lines perfectly, even giving a playful little head tilt.

After the maid outfit, they shot a few more videos of Milo dressed as a Hooters girl, asking lines like if Leroy wanted “our juicy chicken breasts,” or him dressed as a secretary asking if his “boss” wanted him to take “dictation” during the next meeting. Each scenario was weird for Milo—not just because of how he had to act, but because of how Becks responded to him. He had expected his wife to be equally weirded out by seeing her once-masculine husband prancing around like some bimbo. But instead of acting embarrassed or disgusted, she was almost giddy. She was encouraging, even offering suggestions on how to act even sexier. Milo didn’t like learning the tricks his wife used to attract him. After filming the last video with Leroy, Milo was hopeful that this long day was finally over. He had forgotten that there was one purchase he hadn’t used yet—that was until Natalie brought it out.

“Alright, Paris, now it’s time for the big guns,” she said, dropping the impressive dildo on the table. Milo’s mouth hung open at the size of it.

“You’re gonna need to open wider than that,” she said with a chuckle, which caused Becks to snicker as well. “Okay, are we ready?”

“No, I’m not ready!” Milo/Paris shot back.

“Well, it’s nothing to be scared of. It’s not even really…” Natalie said, slightly annoyed by Milo’s constant bitching. Milo, unsure of what to do, looked at Becks.

“Help me,” he begged, hopeless at this point.

“Okay,” Becks said as she walked over to her husband/sister. Milo began to feel relief—was she actually going to help? “Here, just start like this,” she said reassuringly, propping the fake cock up on its base. His hope was dashed. She was going to help him, by teaching him how to suck cock. “Just start by giving it a kiss,” she said, sweetly kissing the tip. She then provided him with expert instructions on how to work a cock in her mouth. Milo/Paris loved watching his wife work—she really was a master of her craft. He had gotten a lot of head in his life, but Devon was near the top. Now she was teaching him her skills. Soon, it was Milo’s turn to try.

“Action,” Natalie said from behind the camera.

“Okay,” Milo/Paris told himself as he kissed the tip just like Becks showed him. Then she moved her head to the side and ran her lips down the shaft. Milo closed his eyes and copied his wife’s earlier action. After running his lips down and back up the side, she kissed the top again, sucking more in than last time. Once she removed her lips, a string of saliva kept his lips attached to the toy like a leash. Milo stared at the dildo again before returning his lips to it. “Remember to stick your tongue out,” Becks’s words played in his head. “That will make it easier to take it in your mouth,” so he stuck his tongue out. He then breathed out his nose, as instructed. “Don’t panic—just take short, shallow breaths.” He continued to work his head up and down. He kissed the tip again while working his hands. “Also, remember to talk dirty. Men love that.” He knew what men loved—he was one—but he still followed the suggestion.

“You’re so big,” he said with a shy whisper that sounded like infatuation. “So hot.” He then hefted his tits onto the table. He maintained eye contact with the camera as he reached behind his back and unhooked his bra. He slowly and sensually removed his bra and used his fingers to cover his nipples. He took a deep breath before looking at the camera as he wrapped his tits around the fake penis. The toy had been slicked with saliva, but it wasn’t quite slick enough to complete his task, so he looked down and spit between his cleavage. He leaned forward a little more, maintaining eye contact with his wife behind the camera. She was smiling back at him, but not with pity or embarrassment—more like pride. He thought she was proud of him; she was more impressed by how good her husband was at acting like a slut. He continued to work his tits on the shaft, moaning and acting as if this was actually turning him on.

“Do you like that, Daddy?” he said encouragingly to the camera. “You like these tits wrapped around your huge cock?” He moaned again. “Come for me, Daddy. Please say I’m a good girl and come for me, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” everyone heard Samuel say from the doorframe. “Very good girl.”

Samuel had returned from running errands and had come back to his team working on their backstories. He was impressed with how much of a “good girl” Paris was being