Getting Dressed

Jessica stayed on her knees for several long minutes, chest heaving, the thick dildo still loosely gripped in her hand. Her throat felt pleasantly raw, her jaw slightly sore, and her pussy continued to twitch with aftershocks. A deep, shameful flush covered her perfect new skin.

What the hell is wrong with me? she thought, even as a satisfied little smile tugged at her swollen lips. I just throat-fucked myself like a pornstar and came harder than I ever have in my life.

Slowly, she stood up. Her legs were still unsteady. She needed to cool down and get her head together before she did anything else. A long, luxurious shower seemed like the perfect reset.

The en-suite bathroom was pure decadence — marble, rainfall showerheads, and mood lighting. Jessica stepped under the hot water and let it cascade over her toned body. She tried to keep her hands professional, but the moment soap slicked across her fuller C-cup breasts and hypersensitive nipples, she had to bite back another moan. Even washing her pussy proved dangerous; the lightest touch made her clit throb with renewed interest.

By the time she stepped out, dried off, and wrapped a towel around herself, she felt slightly more in control.

Okay. Time to actually leave the room and explore this place like a normal person.

She walked to the large walk-in wardrobe the resort had prepared for her. When she opened the doors, her eyebrows shot up.

“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”

There was almost nothing “normal” in there.

The most sensible option by far was a tiny white micro-bikini — barely more than strings and small triangles of fabric. It looked like it would barely contain her new breasts and would definitely leave her athletic ass mostly exposed. Still, compared to everything else, it was practically modest.

The rest of the wardrobe was pure fetish fuel.

She pulled out a glossy black latex catsuit that looked two sizes too small. It had built-in nipple zippers and a crotch zipper that could be opened for… easy access. Jessica held it up and imagined squeezing her toned body into it. The mental image of herself as a shiny, fuckable doll made her pussy clench involuntarily. Ridiculous. I’d look like a cheap dominatrix. No way.

Next was a “sexy nurse” Halloween-style outfit — except the “uniform” was little more than a sheer white babydoll top that would leave her tits completely visible and a skirt so short it might as well not exist. Absolutely not. I’m not some college girl playing dress-up.

Her fingers brushed against a pair of crotchless panties made of delicate red lace. They were paired with a matching shelf bra that would push her C-cups up and out while completely exposing her nipples. She could already picture how obscene her body would look in them — tits presented like an offering, pussy and ass completely accessible. Her clit gave a needy little throb at the thought.

Jesus Christ, who wears this? she thought, quickly putting it back. I’m a 42-year-old strategist, not some brainless fucktoy.

Deeper in the closet hung something far darker: a full black leather gimp mask with only a large O-shaped opening for the mouth. It came with matching restraints and a collar. Jessica stared at it for a long second. The idea of being reduced to nothing but a hooded, anonymous set of holes made her stomach twist with a strange mix of disgust… and unwanted heat between her legs.

She closed the wardrobe door partway, breathing a little faster.

This place is insane. They expect people to just walk around like this?

And yet her new body was clearly on board with the idea. Her nipples had stiffened again under the towel, and she could feel fresh slickness starting to coat her inner thighs. The engineered hormones were doing their job — turning even the ridiculous, humiliating options into twisted turn-ons.

With a sigh, Jessica chose the white micro-bikini. It was the least outrageous thing available. She slipped it on, adjusting the tiny triangles over her firm breasts. The fabric was thin and the fit borderline obscene — her nipples were clearly outlined, and the bottoms disappeared between her toned ass cheeks. She looked like the ultimate high-end resort slut.

She stared at herself in the mirror one last time. The mature woman inside this perfect young body felt a flicker of embarrassment… but also a growing, dangerous excitement.

It’s just a bikini. Perfectly normal for a luxury orbital resort. Right?

She took a deep breath, and without really thinking about it, reached for one of the wristbands sitting on a small tray near the door. Her fingers instinctively closed around the plain white one. She slipped it onto her wrist, feeling the soft, snug fit against her skin, and headed for the door.

Time to see what Echo Resorts really had to offer.