Chapter 2

Maria Delacruz collapsed into the leather chair behind her desk. Her mind was a jumble of disbelief, humiliation and fear. She struggled to take it all in. At least there was some explanation for her periods of lost time. Somehow she'd been changed into some kind of sex-crazed slut, wantonly begging for sex. She'd seen with her own eyes the taped evidence of this version of herself urging strangers on in their use of her, and filled with lust by acts that she'd never even contemplated before. Oh god, and watching this had actually aroused her! She had to believe that it was just some further aspect of his control.

And now this kid Foxx wanted to take over her life. She was genuinely afraid to find out of these plans for her that he had spoken of. And he was moving into her apartment? She started to sob. All that she worked for seemed to be crashing down around her. She had fired one punk kid for reasons that any employer would agree with, and somehow it was coming back at her. Now she was being blackmailed and mysteriously controlled all at once. And the way he talked to her now. Two weeks ago he had been a meek employee cowering in his cubicle; now all of a sudden he was laughing at her, calling her insulting pet names, and using his power over her shamelessly. She slammed her fist on the desk. She couldn't believe that all of sudden her dreams and plans were going to be shoved aside by some vindictive, horny kid. She forced herself to calm down and regain some control. There had to be a way to figure things out and escape all of this, even if it took some time. A computer program allowed him to do all this? It didn't seem possible. Then again, all she had to do was look down to see that it was.

Before all this her breasts had been a B cup, firm and attractive she had thought (and had never gotten any complaints from those she had dated) but now these massive mounds of flesh straining at her blouse. With every move she felt the new weight of them. As well, they actually jiggled. She had felt them bounce as she sat down, and without a bra (which amazingly they didn't seem to need) the sensation of her stiff nipples sliding against the tight soft fabric sent a shiver through her. She returned to her washroom to look at herself, trying to find out how noticeable it might be. Her fears were confirmed when she saw her reflection. They were impossible to miss. Not only were her new breasts so much larger than they had been in the past, but with the ill fitting top, her buttons strained to keep them covered. The blouse was keeping her breasts pushed together, making the cleavage visible at her collar even more scandalous—even if his cumm wasn't drying there. She shuddered. The blouse was now so tight that not only were her nipples visible, but even the small arcs of the golden rings that pierced them. She tried pulling her jacket together to cover up, but it was futile. Besides, it only jostled her breasts more, and the tingling would only keep her nipples hard longer.

Trying to force her thoughts to some kind of normalcy, she realized that it was already the middle of the afternoon, and she had a lot of work to do. She wasn't about to let this ruin her company — she would start there in her assertion of herself. She returned to her desk. Her resolution met a minor setback right away as she slid her chair up to the desk to resume marking her comments on a report and realized quickly that her new breasts were making their presence known to her. It was a bit of a challenge to concentrate with new, full, cum-stained breasts were constantly in her peripheral vision, but she forced herself.

She was jolted out of her concentration once more to hear Deb addressing her.

"Ms. Delacruz, I've got those letters for you to sign," she said, striding towards her desk with a yellow file folder in her hands.

Maria's face immediately went hot; she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. "Oh, yes, thanks, um, just leave them here on the desk," she stammered. She tried to lift her eyes to smile nonchalantly at her assistant. As she feared, Deb's eyes were wide and were focused right at her chest. Maria wanted to just crawl under her desk and hide. Deb slid the file onto the desk and hesitated, her mouth was open but she clearly didn't know what to say. Her eyes darted back and forth between Maria's eyes and her new cleavage. Maria could only imagine what she was thinking. "Thanks, Deb, that'll be it for now."

After mumbling something unintelligible, Deb turned and returned to her own desk. No doubt hopping right on the phone to tell every other assistant in the company that the boss had spent the weekend getting new tits. A new wave of anger and frustration washed over Maria. Even without Foxx's video being shown, people were going to be talking about her with whispered giggles.

At 6:00pm, Maria pushed her chair back from the desk with a sense of resignation. Normally she'd look forward to the comfort of her own home, but now she had no idea what to expect once she arrived there. She knew that she wouldn't be alone — that this man ruining her life was also invading her sanctuary. But she didn't dare risk being any later than usual.

The walk home introduced her to even more aspects of the changes that Foxx had made. She had moved around her office, but it didn't compare to a good brisk walk. She just couldn't get use to the shaking and swaying of her D cup breasts. Even firm as they were, the bouncing flesh was impossible for her to ignore. And her nipples dragged against the tight fabric constantly, getting so stiff she thought it would drive her mad. Perhaps most frustrating was that it was proving to be so arousing. She could feel the heat and wetness build in her bald pussy. What also didn't help was that just about ever man she walked by seemed to nearly break his neck craning to get a look at her breasts trying to force their way out of her blouse.

Finally reaching her building she paused in the Lobby, hoping some deep breaths would calm her down. Of course, there was Calvin, the doorman, friendly as always and striding over, ready to give his greetings. She gave a quick wave and ducked into the elevator, hopefully he too could get a close look at her.

She turned the key in the door, took a deep breath, and entered her apartment. She looked around quickly, and didn't see any sign of Foxx. She set her briefcase on the table and started to make a cautious inspection. She was stopped dead in her tracks by his voice.

"Welcome home, Maria. It's good to see you," he said, his smile wide. "Strip."

She paused for just a second, almost wondering if her body was going to act without her again. Then realizing that he was making her obey on her own, she started to disrobe before him. Once more it hit her — she was in her own home, standing in the middle of her living room, and she was being made to take off her clothing for a virtual stranger. She felt the heat in her cheeks, but she continued. After sliding the jacket back off her shoulders and hanging in over the back of a chair, her fingers moved to her blouse. The strained buttons opened easily and her full breasts poured out into the open. She then slid down the zipper at the side of her skirt and wiggled it down her hips. She noticed now that her panties from this afternoon were gripped in his fist.

"Oh that's lovely, dear, you may stop."

She stood before him in just thigh-high stockings and three inch heels. Her arms hung nervously at her sides. As far as she remembered, this was the first time she was naked in front of him — even though she had certainly seen different on his videotape. She felt so embarrassed and ashamed as his eyes roamed over her.

"Mmmm, you look lovely, Maria — your new tits suit you perfectly," he said as he moved closer to her. She quivered as he touched her, running his hands over her shoulders, down to cup the weight of her breasts. She visible shuddered as his hands slid over her tormented nipples, which resulted in a smile and comment from Foxx. "Yes, you'll find those are very sensitive, Maria, about three times as much as they were before." He used both hands to simultaneously pinch both nipples and a gasp escaped her lips.

"Now, the new house rules for you, Maria. First of all, when you are at home unless I tell you otherwise you are only allowed to wear a certain uniform. You will change into it as soon as you get home, whether or not I'm here. This is your uniform," and he pulled a covering cloth from off the coffee table. She didn't think those items could be called a uniform, but he continued. "There are leather cuffs for your wrists and ankles, and a leather collar for your neck. You will also wear stockings and high heeled shoes no shorter than four inches. Other than those items, you will wear nothing else unless I tell you. The cuffs and collar lock on, as you can see. Each day you will come home and lock them on. I will hold the key, of course. You may put them on now."

He paused, and with a deep breath she moved to the table and began. They went on easily enough and the locks were clearly of a high quality as they locked smoothly and solidly. She started with the ankles, then her wrists, then finally the collar. She felt tears forming in her eyes as the last lock clicked shut. She was wearing a collar like some kind of animal.

"Now, regarding the sleeping arrangements. The master bedroom is, of course, mine now. You will not enter that room unless you are following orders or given specific permission. Your room is now the bedroom next door." He reached over to a side table and picked up something she saw only briefly before he approached her with it. Reaching up to her neck, he clicked the leash onto her collar. The shame of this nearly floored her, and her mouth dropped open. "Come pet, I'll show you your room," and he actually tugged at the collar. She had no choice but to follow him. She was still in a state of shock that seemed to only build by the minute. She was stripped naked, "dressed" in a couple leather straps. Her breasts were now huge, not to mention decorated with gold rings, and swayed with each step. Between her legs her shaved pussy also glinted with jewelry. Her room was another shock. Newly installed hooks and shelves surrounding the room displayed every imaginable type of sex toy, in a wide variety of color, sizes and shapes. In the middle of the room, rather than a bed, was just a five-foot long by three-foot wide by three foot high metal cage with a padded base.

She couldn't hold it in any longer. She just started to cry and she slid down to her knees, no longer having the energy to stand. Wordlessly, he simply tugged at her leach, guiding her on all fours into the cage. Even through her tears she heard the lock click shut.

The week went by very quickly for Maria — primarily because she remembered so little of it. Each morning she would wake and have perhaps a moment or two of dizzy forgetfulness and confusion before she remembered her situation. Then her humiliation would wash over her, made very real by the tight confines of her cage and the leather straps around her neck, ankles and wrists. She would have to wait to be unlocked before she could relieve herself, shower and dress. Foxx would send her off to work with a wicked smile. Work, to a degree, was a bit of a refuge. She was back in her own world and could distract herself by throwing herself into the tasks of the day. The company was doing very well financially, and she pushed aside the frustrations as much as she could to take pride in that. It didn't help with one major sale this week that the client drew no small amount of obvious pleasure in every glance he stole down her top. But she wouldn't let herself believe it affected the sale at all.

She was still not used to her enlarged breasts, but at least she stopped bumping them into things. Word was certainly getting around, as the stares increased, and she was noticing employees on her floor that normally didn't make it out of their own departments — all hoping to get a glance at the boss's new tits. What didn't help was the clothing that Foxx was allowing her to wear to the office. While the new pieces at least fit, they were a good deal tighter and lower-cut than she would have chosen even with her original figure. Her new D cups were showcased, displayed and showed-off with low V-necks and form-hugging sweaters. And without a bra, every brush of fabric or cool breeze returned her nipples to a state of rock-hard arousal — something that was not missed by any man in the room with her. As well, all her longer skirts and all of her dress pants had disappeared. She was limited to skirts that were tighter and shorter than she was ever able to feel comfortable in, especially with the slits cutting high on some of them. It made her aware each time that she had to sit or lean over than panties were another item she was forbidden.

And the end of the day, she'd have to face the walk home. Her stride had a new wiggle to it due to her high heels and her unencumbered breasts bounced, wiggled and swayed in a way that seemed to give no end of pleasure to every man that passed her on the street. And with the constant sliding of her pierced nipples against the inside of her topthey were kept diamond hard which invariably added to the swarm of eyes drawn to her. All she could do was feel her face heat up with embarrassment, hope that no-one she knew saw her bouncing down the sidewalk, and try to get into her building as quickly as possible.

Once home, she would follow her rules and strip down to the heels and stockings and re-lock herself into the straps and humiliating collar. Foxx was nearly always there to welcome home and ogle every move she made around the apartment in her "uniform." After about an hour, he would lock on her leash, lead her to her room and her cage and lock her in. She would invariable fall asleep and not wake until morning. She knew he was using his Master PC software on her, as she remembered no dinners, but she did not wake up hungry. Not to mention that she was "sleeping" about 11 hours a day. Given her past experience, she knew to fear what happened in those missing hours, but she didn't dare ask. After seeing herself on that tape, not knowing seemed immensely preferable.

The routine changed near the end of the week. He called her at work just before the end of the day on Thursday. "Tell your assistant you're taking a long weekend, and that you won't be in tomorrow." He offered no other explanation, and he simply hung up. She let Deb know on her way out. Once home she kept waiting for more information, but she didn't dare ask. Rather than offer up anything, Foxx instead put her to bed early as usual, locking her into her cage by 8pm and shutting out the lights.

She woke up in a haze, stretching and feeling the heat of the sun. Slowly her mind cleared and she opened her eyes, realizing she shouldn't be able to stretch in her cage. She gathered her bearings and realized that she wasn't in her room at all, but stretched out on a blanket on the living room floor, stark naked in front of the balcony door, the bright sun pouring over her body. She scrambled up onto her feet and shied away from the expanse of glass. Sleeping on the floor, however she got there, seemed to have given her muscles an all-over ache. She looked around to see if Foxx was home, and to get her bearings. She figured that he must have something planned if he'd wanted her to take today off. There was no sign of him. She couldn't unlock her collar or cuffs without him and she didn't want to shower with them on so she curled up in front of the television to wait for him. She started flipping around the channels, looking for Regis, a rare weekday morning pleasure. She couldn't find it, which confused her. In fact, there seemed to be nothing on but sports. Suddenly her eyes widened. What the hell were sports doing on TV on Friday morning? A quick check of CNN confirmed her fears. It was 2 o'clock on Sunday afternoon. She cursed out loud. She got up and started to look around the apartment — for some kind of clue or just to relish being alone in her home for once. She still wasn't daring or stupid enough to venture into "his" bedroom. Her room she was familiar with, and the third bedroom had been converted into a dressing room, where her clothing was kept — he refused to allow anything but her cage and the sex toys in her room. Returning to the living room, she finally noticed one significant change. The artwork that had hung on her walls was gone and replaced by some new photographs varying from 8x10's scattered on the shelves to large framed pieces — and they all featured her. Her jaw dropped open as her wide eyes shot from one to the other. In some she was posing seductively in tiny scraps of lace lingerie, in others she was completely nude. They just seemed to get worse and worse. She was featured her in her uniform of leather restraints, in a tiny leather bra top and skin tight latex skirt that didn't even cover all of her ass, in a sequined thong clearly baring her tattooed flesh and sheer skin-tight top. One rather artsy shot featured just her breasts, with a sparking chair dangling between the rings that pierced her nipples. As she spun around the room taking it all in her hands went instinctively to cover her breasts and pussy, a lost reflex while faced with all these images of depravity. And of course in each one the expression on her face showed a slut who was loving the way she was displayed, dripping with lust — the phrase "making love to the camera" stuck in her mind.

She had no sooner sunk down onto the floor in a lump than the door opened and Foxx returned.

"Ah good, you're up, and just in time," he smiled, "and do you like the way I've decorated?"

"Oh no, please, take them down, please — I look like such a whore in those pictures," she begged.

"Of course you do, pet, that's what you are now. Best get used to it. Besides, we need the place properly decorated for the party tonight."

"What? What party? Oh please, you can't let anyone see those photos. Please, I'm doing what you want, don't show them."

"Maria, you're being a good girl, and in return I've not shown the video or the photos to your family, friends or people from work. Don't you worry about our party tonight at all. Besides, some of our guests you've already met," his smile and the look in his eyes showed he was barely holding in his laughter, just loving how low he was bringing her. "Now, let's get you ready." He brought her to the washroom and unlocked her collar and cuffs. She was to shower and perfume her body. He had taken advantage of his powers to eliminate any need to keep herself shaved.

Once clean, dry, perfumed, she applied make-up and made her way to the dressing room as commanded. What little clothing he had chosen was laid out on a small table and he was there to assist her in getting into it. A corset was the first item to squeeze into. Once it was buttoned around her she had to hold on tight as he drew the laces tighter and tighter, drawing in her waist and forcing her breasts up and together. They looked like tight fleshy balloons barely contained by the black silk of the corset, which was cut just low enough that her nipples and their gold rings peeked out for all to see. Wrapped so tight, she needed Foxx's assistance to get the fishnet stockings he had chosen on, and they were carefully adjusted to straighten the seams at the back of her legs. Stiletto heels were slid onto her feet, with heels that were at least five inches tall. They also had an extra feature in that the leather straps actually locked them onto her feet — tiny silver padlocks hung from the sides. Her cuffs were returned to her wrists and her neck wrapped in her collar and locked on as well. Foxx smiled as her showed her some of the last items she would be "wearing." He had her spread her legs and bend forwards, resting her head and hands on a chair. The corset kept her back straight and she was mortified to have herself so exposed as he moved behind her. She had little doubt he could take in every inch of her this way. She shuddered when she felt his touch on her ass cheeks, and she moaned as the touch became even more intimate — his fingers her sliding over her shaved pussy lips and even across the tight rosebud of her ass.