nothing better than corrupt bankers getting sweet comeuppance

I sat at the head of the boardroom table, feeling invincible as always. My name was Richard Carmichael, and I was the top banker at one of the most prestigious firms in the city. I had money, power, and a lifestyle most people could only dream of. And I had gotten away with embezzling millions from my clients for years without a hitch.

But today, the atmosphere in the room was different. The usual respect and deference were replaced with cold, hard stares from the board members. I had been summoned for an emergency meeting, and I could tell something was off.

"Richard, do you know why we called you here today?" Mr. Thompson, the CEO, asked, his voice icy.

I leaned back in my chair, feigning nonchalance. "No, but I assume it's about another big client I've secured?"

Mr. Thompson's lips curled into a sneer. "Not quite. We've discovered that you've been embezzling funds from the company and our clients."

My heart skipped a beat, but I maintained my composure. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Save it, Richard," Mr. Thompson interrupted. "We have all the evidence we need. You've fucked us, so now all of us will get to do the same to you."

Before I could react, a strange sensation washed over me. My skin tingled, my vision blurred, and I felt a peculiar warmth spreading through my body. Panic set in as I realized I was losing control. I tried to stand, but my legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor.

The room seemed to spin around me, and I could hear the board members laughing. My body felt like it was on fire, the heat intensifying in my chest, hips, and groin. I looked down in horror as my once-muscular frame began to shrink and soften. My chest swelled, my waist cinched in, and my hips expanded, taking on an exaggerated hourglass shape.

My clothes felt restrictive, and I could feel my shirt straining against my rapidly growing breasts. I tore at the fabric, desperate to relieve the pressure. As my shirt ripped open, my newly formed breasts spilled out, full and heavy. My pants slid down my now-slender legs, leaving me exposed in nothing but a pair of lacy pink panties that had materialized out of nowhere.

I felt utterly emasculated and vulnerable, the cool air of the boardroom brushing against my new female parts. My groin felt strange, a soft, wet heat replacing what had once been there. I couldn't stop the tears from streaming down my face as I looked up at the board members, who were watching with smug satisfaction.

"Please, stop this," I begged, my voice high-pitched and squeaky. "I'll do anything. Just don't do this to me."

Mr. Thompson stepped forward, a cruel smile on his lips. "Oh, but this is just the beginning, Cherry Pop. From now on, you'll make money the honest way—on your back and knees."

The name hit me like a punch to the gut. Cherry Pop. It was degrading, humiliating, and I hated it. I opened my mouth to protest, but my new compulsions took over. I couldn't resist the urge to strip off the rest of my clothes, feeling the stares of the board members on my naked, voluptuous body.

I stood there, trembling, as Mr. Thompson handed me a skimpy outfit. "Put this on. It's more appropriate for your new job."

With shaking hands, I took the clothing and began to dress. The outfit was a trashy, revealing ensemble that left little to the imagination. The tight, low-cut top barely covered my ample breasts, and the short skirt hugged my wide hips and round ass. I felt exposed, embarrassed, and utterly humiliated.

Mr. Thompson's gaze roamed over my body, his satisfaction evident. "From now on, you'll be available to anyone at a discount price. And don't worry, the board members get a 100% discount, any time they want."

I wanted to scream, to fight back, but the compulsions were too strong. I could feel my body responding to the humiliation, my nipples hardening under the thin fabric of my top, a wetness growing between my thighs. I hated myself for it, but I couldn't stop.

"Please," I whispered, my voice trembling. "There has to be another way. I'll do anything else."

Mr. Thompson's smile widened. "Oh, there is another way. You can go to a men's jail, where you'll be the plaything of every inmate. And no, we can't change you back."

The thought of being in a men's jail, stuck in this vulnerable female body, was terrifying. I had no choice. I had to do this or face a fate even worse.

"Good girl," Mr. Thompson said, patting my cheek patronizingly. "Now, let's get you started. The CEO wants to be the first to sample your new skills."

I felt a wave of nausea as I was led to Mr. Thompson's office. The other board members watched, smirking and whispering among themselves. I knew they would all take their turn, using me until I had paid back every cent I had stolen. And with the amount I had embezzled, it would take centuries.

Inside the office, Mr. Thompson locked the door behind us. He unbuckled his belt and motioned for me to get on my knees. I obeyed, feeling the rough carpet against my bare legs. I could see the bulge in his pants growing as he looked down at me.

"You're going to suck me off, Cherry," he ordered. "And make sure you do a good job. I expect to be satisfied."

I swallowed hard, tears blurring my vision. "Yes, sir," I replied, my voice barely a whisper.

I reached up and unzipped his pants, freeing his erection. The sight of it made my stomach turn, but I had no choice. I leaned forward and took him into my mouth, feeling the weight of him on my tongue. The taste was bitter and unpleasant, but I focused on pleasing him, my head bobbing up and down.

Mr. Thompson groaned in pleasure, his hands gripping my hair and guiding my movements. I could feel his length hitting the back of my throat, making me gag, but I continued, determined to avoid his wrath. The humiliating act seemed to go on forever, each second dragging out into an eternity.

"Good girl," Mr. Thompson praised, his voice husky. "Now, turn around and bend over the desk."

I did as I was told, feeling the rough wood against my breasts. My heart pounded in my chest as I felt him lift my skirt, exposing my wet, needy pussy. I felt his fingers probing my entrance, spreading my folds, and then he pushed inside me.

The sensation was overwhelming. I had never felt anything like it. His thrusts were hard and fast, filling me completely. I could feel every inch of him inside me, stretching me, owning me. The humiliation of being taken like this, of being used as a tool for his pleasure, was almost too much to bear.

But my body responded, despite my shame. I could feel my juices flowing, my pussy clenching around him. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure and humiliation through me, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

"Please, sir," I whimpered, my voice high and desperate. "Please, no more."

But Mr. Thompson only laughed, his pace quickening. "You'll take it, Cherry. You'll take it until I say we're done."

I could feel my orgasm building, my body betraying me. The pleasure was intense, almost painful, and I couldn't stop it. With a final, deep thrust, I came, my pussy spasming around him, my moans echoing in the room.

Mr. Thompson grunted, filling me with his seed. I felt the hot liquid inside me, marking me, claiming me. He pulled out and stepped back, zipping up his pants.

"That was just the beginning, Cherry," he said, his tone cold and satisfied. "You'll be doing this for a long, long time."

As I stood there, my legs shaking, my body used and humiliated, I realized the full extent of my punishment. I would have to degrade myself, submit to the whims of these men, until every cent was repaid. And with the millions I had stolen, it would take centuries.

Tears streamed down my face as I adjusted my clothes, the sticky remnants of Mr. Thompson's climax still inside me. I had no identity, no dignity left. I was nothing more than a tool, a toy for their pleasure. And I would have to live with that knowledge, every single day.

The transformation had stripped me of everything I had once been. My name, my power, my pride—all gone. I was Cherry Pop now, and I would do anything to avoid the horrors of a men's jail. Anything.

As I left the office, the other board members watched me with hungry eyes. I knew they would all take their turn, using me until they were satisfied. My life, my reality, had become a never-ending nightmare, and there was no escape.

The words of Mr. Thompson echoed in my mind: "You fucked us, so now all of us will get to do the same to you." And as the door closed behind me, I knew those words would haunt me for the rest of my miserable existence.

this was available 2 months earlier on my patreon - patreon.com/RavynCrow