Part 1-8
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Part 9-29 + additional materals
Bob raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Really, Lola? You sure about that? It doesn’t look to me like you really, uh, mean that. Especially if you want tha-"
"Alright, fine!" Steve cut him off, a frustrated blush coloring his cheeks. "I’ll do it, but only if you let me through after. No bullshit!"
Bob's grin widened, and he stepped to the side, motioning for Steve to follow him. "Deal," he said simply, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Let's take this to the utility room. More private." He turned and started walking, leaving Steve standing there, his mind reeling with a mix of fury and confusion.
Steve hesitated for a moment, every instinct screaming at him to turn and run, but he knew he didn't have much choice. 'I need to get to my body,' he reminded himself, swallowing hard as he reluctantly followed Bob down the corridor. His legs trembled beneath the high heels, but his pussy was wet and it annoyed him. 'But what exactly does he want?!' suddenly went through Steve's head.
"Hey, what exactly am I supposed to do?" he called out to the guard, who just chuckled in response.
"Nothing that you wouldn't do, sweetheart." he said, glancing over his shoulder. "My wife is such a prude when it comes to anal sex..." his words trailing off.
"Oh, fuckin' hell..." Steve murmured, trying to sound casual. 'Great, fucking great...' Steve thought, clenching his jaw. He had never done anal in any of his girlfriends, preferring pussy and of course never ever though he would have to do that in man's body.
'God, what the fuck am I doing?' he thought, following behind Bob into the darkened utility room. 'I need to get my body back... but this... this is fucking insane.'
Bob, standing in the doorway, grinned as Steve reluctantly stepped into the dimly lit room. The smell of bleach and dust filled the air, and the flickering fluorescent light overhead did little to calm Steve's nerves.
"Alright, sweetheart," Bob said, stepping forward. "Turn around and go to that table over there." He motioned to a rusted metal table next to a line of washing machines.
Steve shot him an irritated glare, trying to suppress the unwelcome rush of arousal he was feeling at the mere thought of doing and walking slowly over to the table. "Fine, whatever..." he grumbled when stopped next to the table and suddenly felt the guard's hand on his shoulders, squeezing lightly and sending a goosebumps all over her new body.
Steve crossed his arms over his chest, turning his delicate face at Bob. "Just get it over with, alright?" he snapped, but Bob sharply turned his head back.
"Face forward," he ordered, and then took Steve's tender little hands and forced them down so that Steve's chest was not covered by them, causing Steven to stumble and gasp as he tried to stay upright.
"What the fuck, Bob?!" Steve hissed angrily, feeling how Bob's hands slowly moved down along his slender body down to Steve's hips, squeezing them roughly through the fabric of the skirt.