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— Yeah, baby, like that, now turn your chin a bit to the right… stop. Freeze. Perfect, — the photographer’s voice sounded soft and businesslike at the same time.
Olivia Brown, now better known through her OnlyFans as Liv Overflow, froze.
"Baby. Freeze. Perfect" — it darted around in her head while the hand braced against the couch slightly clenched the upholstery fabric with fingers tipped with long, glossy polish, as if looking for something to hold on to.
— Mark… — she breathed out without changing her pose. — Could you not call me baby?
— What? — Mark Levin replied, clicking the shutter. — What are you talking about, babe?
"Is he fucking with me? Why are all photographers such... assholes?" — she thought with anger mixed with sadness and shifted her gaze slightly to the side, somewhere past the camera lens, somewhere back to that filthy basement room where she had woken up about a year ago and, for the first time in her life, felt that damn heavy and so wrong weight on her Breasts.
Back then she, or rather he, still used to the name Charlie Kramer and sure that this name would stay with him for the rest of his life, tried to scream, to call for help, to struggle, but instead only quiet air came out of his throat.
"Easy, girl, your vocal cords are still healing," that creepy old man said back then, Doctor Elias Kramer, too brilliant and too insane. The man who created her body in a "test tube" and at the same time the one who first called her "girl." At the time Charlie was sure it was some kind of joke, mockery, but soon, when the shock faded and the doctor step by step began running tests and talking about the female body, and Charlie more and more started to understand that he could no longer ignore the constant itch between his legs that made everything inside clench while his nipples got hard like wood, then he realized this was no joke. And when the first period came, it became the final nail in that coffin of femininity which, by some strange coincidence, lined up with the cops showing up.
They did everything fast, as if it couldn’t have been done earlier. But all of Charlie’s hopes that the scientists could put his head back onto his body turned out to be nothing but empty dreams. All the technology and research was destroyed during the raid on the lab by enraged people Elias had experimented on.
The only thing the feds could do was give Charlie new documents, sending him, or rather her, into an adjacent department that handled hiding criminals who decided to testify or witnesses whose lives were in danger. Yeah, unfortunately everything fell under a “classified” label. Even the witness protection staff were sure Charlie was just an ordinary young frightened woman who needed to be hidden from some abusive maniac. No one even suspected that she was a man who just yesterday ran a massive furniture showroom and thought the hardest thing in life was counting quarterly sales.
— Baby, hey, what’s wrong, you spaced out there? — Mark said, the photographer turning his head and looking from Olivia to the point her gaze was fixed on, — You thinking about the... curtain?
— I… — Olivia blinked, like surfacing from water, and instinctively squeezed the inside of her thigh with her hand, immediately realizing how stupid it looked, — No. Stupid pose… — she breathed out, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks.
Mark tilted his head slightly to the side, looking at her over the camera.
— Stupid? — he dragged out with a faint smirk. — Liv, with the way you look, any pose can be called anything you want, but definitely not “stupid.”
Olivia lowered her leg, her brows knitting.
"I should’ve stayed a sales clerk in that store the feds shoved me into," she thought, but then immediately cut herself off with another thought: "yeah, right, so that instead of aiming for the director’s desk like before, I’d end up under that desk with that asshole’s dick in my mouth?! So that people would come to the store not to buy furniture, but to stare at these huge dumb Tits I can’t hide no matter what? Or so that every time I bend down for the lower shelf, some lady whispers behind my back ‘what a cow,’ and the men ‘oh I’d totally fuck that…’? Hell no! At least here everything’s honest, and the money’s better!"
— Get on all fours, — Mark said, cracking his neck joints as if it were the most ordinary work request, like “a bit closer to the window.”...Full story (15 700 characters - 3 parts + add. images) is open to subscribers here or on Patreon