Discovering Myself - Sex Stories

Discovering Myself

... Mark decided to provide a demonstration. “I see you need a demonstration,” he remarked casually, taking a sip of his whiskey.

He called the stewardess back to the bar, his gaze locking onto hers with an unsettling intensity. “Take your shirt and bra off for me, now,” he commanded.

The change in the stewardess was immediate and disturbing. A vacant expression washed over her face, her actions seemingly disconnected from her own will. With robotic efficiency, she removed her top and then her bra, standing exposed behind the bar. She was a decent-looking woman, probably around 30, with long brown hair and striking eyes. Her breasts were slightly larger than my own original size.

Mark’s next instruction was even more horrifying. “Now - listen carefully,” he said, his voice cold and commanding, “go lock yourself in the lavatory. I want you to masturbate as your life depends on it, but you will not be able to cum until you hear the captain's voice, prepare the cabin for landing.”

A horrifying realization dawned on me - Mark was responsible for the bizarre changes and overwhelming sensations I had been experiencing. Fear clenched my heart.

“Go now,” he instructed the stewardess.

She moved quickly, almost mechanically, rushing toward the lavatory. I watched her go, my mind racing with terror and questions. How was this possible? What kind of power did Mark possess? The situation was spiraling into a nightmare, and I felt utterly powerless.

Mark's smug chuckle ...

... sent shivers down my spine as he remarked on the stewardess's forgotten top. "Oh, look what she forgot... Was in such a hurry she forgot her top..." The casual cruelty in his voice was chilling.

Frozen in fear, I struggled to comprehend the situation. His control over the stewardess, and his implications about my own changes, were too much to process. "Y-you did this to me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as I looked down at my transformed body, a mix of fear and disbelief coursing through me.

“I did,” he replied with a self-satisfied grin. “I know you like them.”

His admission only added to my turmoil. “W-why are you telling me this?” I managed to ask, my mind racing for answers.

“I want you to know,” he said, his tone dark and resolute. “I want you to know there is nothing you can do about it.”

The helplessness of my situation was overwhelming. “W-w-what are you going to do to me?” I stammered, my whole body shaking.

“Anything I fucking want,” he responded, his words firm and menacing. “Any more questions? I got one sip left…”

In a desperate attempt to understand his motives, I pressed on. “Why would you do this to me? Why make me aware? Why not just make me compliant?” The questions tumbled out, each one underlined by a growing sense of dread.

“Because,” he said softly, pausing dramatically before finishing his whiskey, “where’s the fun in that?”

His response left me breathless, my heart pounding in my chest. If this was a dream, it was ...