Mr Henricks...

Mr Henricks still gripped my hair with an air of complete authority as he looked condescendingly down at me. He was unimpressed. And I felt his lack of esteem acutely. I looked up at him feeling meek and less than certain. I felt ... like I'd failed him. It was humbling. On my knees in deference to him, my legs parted slightly in obeisance, hoping to please him and make up for my lack of attentiveness. Surely he would understand that I was trying my best, that I was not prepared for all of this.

Before I'd been the one in control, calling the shots and directing the research. That came naturally to me. Claire had been competent but clearly my subordinate, eager to help and please, quick to apolagise for any mistake. I was Claire now and it was a lot to adapt too. I was doing my best but clearly this was more than a role reversal, much more. Dear god what had I done to myself?

Being naked whilst he was clothed reinforced his dominance and I found that unnervingly exhilarating. God my pussy was wet. I wanted it filled. My carnal need was palpable, my hopeful expectant veneration pitiful, the certainty of his dominance unassailable. All I had to do was object and I could stop this demeaning abasement. But I couldn't. "Firstly then. No cooked breakfast. You haven't earned it." He said as he stroked my cheek.

My stomach growled. The change had left me quite hungry and being denied food was actually quite a punishment in itself. And he knew it. I sighed, my face showing dismay. But I couldn't bring myself to object because I feared he may get rough with me again. That had been confusing.

"I'll decide whether to spank you later... " he said blandly. My heart skipped a beat as my body quivered and quailed. Why was it that I got so aroused by being treated like this? I was in trouble, I knew it. Powerless. Easily manipulated. He'd told me I couldn't wear clothes and consequently I was naked. He'd told me I couldn't cum unless he allowed it and I knew I couldn't disobey. It wasn't just that I was a girl. I was his girl. He knew exactly what I was. What made me tick. How to tie my emotions up like pretzels. What would make me feel like... this. My lack of power was intoxicating.

"You know Claire I like my new house. And owning the tech that did this to us both is fantastic. But honestly I'm enjoying being in control most of all. Cocks and balls and height and muscles are fun but it's more the mental state that goes with them... I should explain that whilst I had fantasies of being dominated in that body I never had the balls to act on them. Being young, sexually inexperienced, meek and ultra submissive precludes against acting to meet those needs. Which is frustrating. When I saw you in my body I thought that if you knew what I liked then when we returned to our bodies you'd finally give me what I wanted. But seeing you subject to my needs is something of a revelation. I'm not just I'm interested to see how far I can push you. How deep those urges are. How much I can fuck with you. I'm really enjoying doing this to you. Who knew you had what it took to be a dominant...?" he asked rhetorically.

Then he looked down at me. "If we switch back we'll both know. This is a good thing..." he chuckled. "For us. As a couple... master and pet."

A couple. Right now I really liked the sound of that. Master and pet. That's what our relationship would be. I considered being the master. That seemed odd to me right now. Beyond me. He still held my hair. Dominant. I could have been dominant before - had I known about Claire's foibles. But the pet...? Right now I could relate to that. And that scared me. Also being a couple sounded long term. A future together. But who would be the master and who the pet?

Importantly Mr Henricks had said "if". Fuck. If we switched back. Not when. If he allowed it. That worried me. I could be stuck as the pet. Naked. On my knees. Waiting for permission to cum. Like this. A tiny curvy ****. For the rest of my life. And with this technology that could be an awfully long life. I was thinking about that, pleasantly aroused by the thought.

"Are you listening?!" He asked.

"Huh?" I responded dazedly. I blushed in shamefaced confusion.

"You weren't. Right then." He sat down on the couch and pulled me onto his lap, bending me over, my pert breasts bare against the fabric on his thighs, my rounded naked ass upturned. Jesus I was going to get spanked! I cringed in aroused suspense, fearful but expectant, loins tingling. He placed his hand on my ass cheeks, circling. "I warned you." His hand came down. I let out a cry. High. Surprised. And god damn it excited. Loins afire, heart aflutter, nipples aquiver. I was juiced. My ass stung. But the pain was more associated with the expectation of being spanked then the actual slap. I felt younger than 22. I felt positively childish. Girlish. Like my first foray into sex.

Mr Henricks hand descended again and I squealed and wiggled. Jesus I was just a weak and aroused thing now. His hand circled then reached down between my legs. I shivered as his fingers explored my sex, spreading my legs. I wasn't just wet. I was sopping. Getting spanked like a bad little girl made me horny as hell. I was overwrought with need.

Mr Henricks laughed. "Jesus. You're practically creaming yourself you little slut. I'm not even sure you deserve your body back. You're so eager." He rubbed my lips, found my clit and toyed with it in amusement. It was like he was showing me how tiny my sex had become. How much I'd lost. Certainly my cock. Definitely my balls. He could grip my clit between thumb and forefinger. My pitifully small nub. The remnants of my manhood. I felt less than a man then. The skin around my clit was ultra sensitive and I wanted him to continue. Then his finger slipped into me and I felt myself quivering and moaning.

"Now then girl. I'm going to go out. I have some things to see too. Whilst I'm busy you are going to clean the house. My house." He laughed as he toyed with my sex. "Naked..." he reminded me, his hand working and his fingers probing deeper. "I'll be back later ... but first. Your access codes to the lab," he prompted. I gave them over willingly and without thought of the consequences as I spread my legs wider, wanting him to go deeper. My need ruled me. "Your PIN numbers to your accounts?" He was finger fucking me and I struggled to remember them. I gasped them out. "Your phone..." I gave the PIN up eagerly. "Good girl." He withdrew his fingers from my hot soaked sex and smacked my ass. And I yelped in frustrated shock. He pushed me off his lap and I fell dazedly to the carpet as he stood. He found his keys, wallet and phone and left me lying there. My keys, phone and wallet. He was taking my life I realised in my horny, frustrated, flustered, awed and unsatisfied state. My ass was throbbing.

I lay there in shock for a moment realising he'd left. He'd played me. Completely. I stood and considered. He'd told me to clean. Naked. Damn him. I should go to the lab. I wanted to change back before he changed the access codes - risks he damned. But I couldn't. Fuck.

I went to the closet instead and got out the vacuum. Time to start cleaning. And clean I did. Dusted. Vacuumed. Mopped. Disinfected. Scrubbed. Cleaned the bathroom, kitchen, laundry. Windows, walls, floor. Then there was the bed linen. Towels. Clothes. Washing, drying machine, ironing.

And as I worked I ran over my earlier sexual escapades in my mind. Without a doubt it had been the best sex I'd ever had. It wasn't just that I was a girl - but sex as a girl was great - I'd never have thought that before - no, it was how I felt being dominated. It seemed to accentuate my arousal. The less control the more aroused. And this weak, soft, sensitive little body compounded it. It was the opposite of what I'd been and so everything was new and overpowering. God I got wet just thinking about what I'd done. I wanted more. A week would be enough surely. I didn't want to be like this for longer though... stuck. I shivered with fatalistic need. I was in trouble.

I became more accustomed to my body. Acclimatised. It went from amazing to something of a novelty. My reduced stature made chores more difficult. It was hard to push around the vacuum and my arms ached. Changing the bed sheets I had to climb about on the bed on hands and knees and that made me think about Mr Hendricks taking me from behind. His cock pushing into me as I moved to meet his thrust. Breasts dangling from my chest, hips moving in time to meet his strong sure thrusts. His willing fuck pet... I shook off the reverie and stopped playing with myself.

I could not help but stare at my new sex as I laboured, the repetitively mundane and boring tasks allowing me to think - when I didn't have to figure out how to best do the chores in my new altered state. I hadn't intended to use my pussy for heterosexual sex. But the vision of Mr Henricks cock sliding into me plagued me like an erotic regret. How had I succumbed so easily? Because it was hard wired into my mind now evidently. Clearly sexual orientation and desires were not a conscious choice for me. Likely some personality traits were genetic. This revelation might solve many philosophical debates but potentially create new ones. Who knew if I was a typical case? Hell I had a sample of two test subjects - not enough information to draw any real conclusions from. But both of us had taken the sexual orientation and inclinations of our new genetics. I shook my head. Not enough data.

The wider hips felt weird and my lower centre of gravity took some getting used to. Wider hips for female reproductive organs. A womb to be filled with cum. Christ. My breasts bounced about, the nipples rubbing against things and constantly reminding me of their presence. When I did the ironing I was looking at his shirt. My former shirt. The thing would be like a tent on me now. I wasn't paying attention as I mused and brushed the iron against my breast. "Oh Christ!!!" I cried. That really hurt! I moved away, tears in my eyes. I needed to be careful. Remember my new assets. Pay more attention. I jumped in the shower and turned on the cold water. Damn that was cold. My nipple went rock hard under the chill streak. I stared at my flatly erect nipple, glad I hadn't burnt that sensitive part of my body.

I stepped under the chill shower and quickly washed myself. A cold shower was almost painful and made me very aware of the new contours of my body. I quickly lathered up, rinsed and got out shivering, towelling off quickly, teeth chattering. My long hair clung to my shoulders and trailed between my breasts. My skin was taught from the cold. Probably for the best. A hot shower would likely have devolved into a hot, soapy, steamy exploration of my body. I found some burn cream and put it on the burn. The antiseptic cream tingled cool and pleasantly.

My stomach growled but I'd been told no food... it was about one p.m. and I'd missed breakfast and now evidently I would miss lunch. The doorbell rang and I stood still. I was still all but naked. But I had to answer the door. If I dressed and it was Mr Henricks I'd be in trouble. I took the towel and wrapped it about myself hurriedly and opened the door, not wanting to cause my visitor to wait. A young man stood there. "Pizza for Claire?" He said. Food! I grabbed the box, my towel all that seperated my body from his admiring gaze dropping in my haste to fall about my slim ankles. "That - will be $20." He said as he stared. Oh damn. My ... Mr Henricks wallet was gone and I had no cash. I blushed, holding the steaming pizza, my naked body on display. "Um..." how was I going to pay for it?!

I looked up at the delivery man and saw how he was looking at me. Mr Henricks had ordered this and I had to pay. But I had no money! But there were other ways I could pay, as long as I didn't cum... dear god. Was I going to prostitute myself for my lunch? But then again the guy was cute. I was still horny. "I don't have any money on me. Honest. You can search me if you want." What the fuck was I doing?! Saying. I swayed and twisted my body so he could see. Mr Henricks had obviously planned this.

"I can see," he observed.

I now understood Claire's problem quite clearly. My problem. I couldn't ask him to screw me. It scared me too much. Gods. Nervously I tried to step closer but instead just shuffled my feet. I looked up at him feeling afraid and horny, my eyes practically pleading for him to take me.

He reached out and touched my breast. I sighed and smiled. He got it. The pizza boy stepped in and shut the door. He looked about uncertainly and I felt myself becoming less aroused. He didn't understand. He needed to take charge. He leant in and kissed me and ... I didn't feel it. It was frustrating. There wasn't any fire. No excitement. My mood was .... fizzing. He played with my breasts which was kind of fun but ultimately only barely amusing. His hand reached down and found my sex. He rubbed it. It was pleasant but he wasn't in charge. It was a bit of a turn off. I sighed. This was how it worked I realised. There was no knife edge of excitrment to balance on. No worry. No loss of power. He didn't objectify me. Shit. He pulled down his pants and I almost rolled my eyes.

The delivery boy - it was hard to think of him as a man now - looked about then guided me to the couch, sitting down and pulling me atop him. I felt his cock at my lips and he thrust up into me. I gasped in feigned pleasure. Gods how could I do this. I needed to find my happy place. That was it. I had to think of something else. How Mr Henricks had manipulated me into this. Even now he was controlling me. Turning me into a little slut. Showing me that he had complete control over me. That helped. That lit my fires. I rode him, my small body atop his till he came with a grunt inside me. Without my fantasies of Mr Henricks it was mechanical. I didn't cum. I'd had no fear of disobeying my orders.

But now, afterwards I worried about cumming. He'd spank me if I did. That excited me.

The pizza guy lifted me off him and seemed somewhat proud of his accomplishment. I suppose he did alright but he didn't compare to Mr Henricks. Not even close. Chalk and cheese. "Keep the tip..." I said with a grin almost glad it was over. The pizza delivery boy didn't deliver. Fucking misnomers. I was still sexually frustrated.

He left and I guiltily ate my ill gotten gains. I looked at the clock and wondered when Mr Henricks would return. Now that was something to get excited about. He'd known. Set me up to get fucked. Was fucking with my mind... no. He was teaching my and he was a very good teacher I acceded. Masterful in fact.