If you like my art, sketches, stories, transformations you can find more like this here (thanks to everyone for the support, it's very important for me): www.patreon.com/greentg

...

- Maybe enough?

I couldn't believe I was doing all this of my own free will, instead of grabbing Gibson right now and claiming that I was actually an American CIA agent in the body of prostitute Angela. I really wanted to do this, besides, I already had reasons because Gibson met with an Arab terrorist and on the basis of this I could call the police.

However, I was well aware of the situation I was in. I was completely in the wrong position. Even if I managed to knock out one with my hand-to-hand combat techniques, I'm afraid that against other men who were definitely stronger than me now, I would not have coped. Therefore, there was only one thing left for me - to continue playing the role of Angela, and with difficulty and a sense of humiliation I pulled these belts over my naked body, having roughly figured out how to do it.
Coming out of the bathroom there were still these people and Gibson ordered me to take off my bathrobe to see "what I did"

- Um, what's wrong with you, baby? You are not yourself today. Just do your job, what am I paying you to ask questions. Yes, but we need our help. Joe, help the lady put on her clothes, huh.

- Sure boss, no problem

I didn't like this at all. What the hell for sexual pleasures Gibson asked to help his sixes. And why doesn't this bearded man leave? What the hell is Gibson doing with his prostitutes every Tuesday? Fuck, I signed up for this myself. I won't tell anyone about this when this mission is over.

The man helped. Yes. It was creepy and scary at the same time, when I was tightened with belts and absolutely could not move. They even put a gag in my mouth so that I couldn't utter a word. Of course, I knew that Gibson was a pervert, but I had no idea how much

When I was completely "dressed" in this "clothing" I experienced only pain and humiliation. My shoulders were tense from how tight the straps were on my arms. My legs were tightly bound so that if I still had a member, it would have shrunk into a cake. I looked at Gibson, who all this time was looking at me and thinking about what would happen next. There were many thoughts in my head about what would happen and I didn’t like any of them.

- So so so. I now, I think it's time to talk, Mr. undercover agent from the CIA.

My eyes widened and I tried to say something and get out, but I couldn't even get up!