Part 1-8
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Part 9-29 + additional materals
As Steve stumbled down the plant corridor in his tight mini skirt and high heels, he could feel the eyes of the workers on him. The clicking of his stiletto heels echoed against the concrete floor, drawing attention from every direction. He cursed under his breath as he tried to walk normally, but it was impossible.
“Hey, sweetheart! Where ya goin’ in such a hurry?” a burly man in a stained overalls called out, laughing.
Steve shot him a glare, gritting his teeth. "Ain’t none of your fuckin’ business, asshole!" he shouted in annoyance.
Another worker, this one younger and wearing a baseball cap, whistled as Steve passed by. "Damn, look at those legs! You workin' the floor today or what?"
"Fuck off, creep!" Steve shouted, feeling how his cheeks flushing with warmth, while his nipples were stiff, erect, and visible through the top, his heart was racing, and there was a strange, unwelcome warmth pooling between his shaking, bruised thighs. 'What the hell is wrong with me?' he thought, trying to ignore the tingling sensation that spread through his body with each catcall.
As Steve neared the entrance of the main building, he spotted a familiar face standing at the security desk: Bob, the guard who had been at the plant for years. Bob was a big guy, usually friendly and always ready to share stories about his kids and fishing trips.
Bob's eyes widened as he saw scantily clad woman stomping toward him with an aggressive stride. His gaze traveled up and down, lingering on hard nipples poking through a tight top. She tried to open checkpoint door with two hands and again. "Whoa there, missy! Where you going in a rush?" he asked, standing up as she approached, blocking her path.
"Hey, Bob! Fuck off, man! I gotta get the hell inside" Steve demanded, rolling his eyes as he tried to push past him. Bob only stepped in front of him and, hands on his hips, looked stern.
"Just what do you think you're doing here dressed like that? This is private property. How the hell did you even get in here? And how do you know my name?" Steve raised his hands and take a couple of steps back, crossing his arms on his chest and tapping one stiletto heel like a nervous girl.
'Great,' Steve thought, annoyed. 'This guy's even dumber than I remember.' But he didn't have time for this. He needed to get in, find his body, and fix this whole mess. "Course I know your name, dipshit. Everyone does. You’re always hangin’ around, ain’t ya?"Everyone knows you. You’re, like, always here, and stuff."
Steve clenched his fists, feeling the unfamiliar sensation of his manicured nails digging into his palms. 'Think, Steve, think,' he told himself, trying to come up with a plan to get past Bob. He knew he couldn't just tell the truth - it would sound insane.