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To Catch A Starlet 2 part 8
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
To Catch a Starlet 2: Nelson's Revenge
NEW Chapter VIII: The Dessert of Champions
The sensations of my last intercourse as a woman had simply disappeared
when I realized that Nelson and I both forgot to use the condom. Finding
clothes to fit my full figure was hard enough! Over the course of two days,
I had become a redheaded, big-titted, full-figured teenage girl, and unless
we acted fast, I would be pregnant, too.
Nelson was frustrated, but only because he had promised to get me the
antidote to make me my old self again. Now he wished he hadn't made that
promise, because now he wanted me to have a baby and be his sex object. He
kept trying to reassure me with his money as we walked back to his car.
But I insisted that we go back to Peter's and at least try to get the
antidote. We did, and Peter was still pissed off about my leaving him.
"Why, after binding me and making me slip?" he asked.
"I'll be pregnant with Nelson's baby if you don't," I said.
"You try like the dickens to leave me, then make out with him. You'll get
the antidote on one condition and one condition only: That you become Donna
again and then get pregnant with my baby afterwards. I'll need a lock of
your hair to make some more serum."
As he got my hair sample, he noted that I got my full figure from the hair
of another stripper at the Booby Trap. So that's why he went there so
often, I realized. He gave me the antidote, and I became Marty again. He
was absolutely amazed, as he had said he could not imagine "Donna" as a
man. Hours later, he reinjected me with the full-figured Kellie Martin
serum. When he saw that my hair was not red, I explained to him that brown
was my natural hair color.
It was several days before I was to return to The Booby Trap. I thought
about a lot of things: Would the Booby Trap disqualify me from grand-prize
contention just because my body had changed? Or should I win and become a
featured dancer, doing a few shows a night, making easy money (and taking
some of Nelson's)? The possibility of constant financial and sexual
satisfaction was there for me to take.
In the meantime, clothing was a pressing need. I was in a Catch-22: I
couldn't go out because I didn't have clothes, and I couldn't get clothes
because I couldn't go out. Fortunately, I avoided this Catch-22 by ordering
some stuff from my Playboy catalog, "A Catalog for Men and the Women They
Love". What caught my fancy the most was a black lack bodystocking, as
shown on the body of Echo Johnson, Playboy Playmate of January 1993. I
remembered how hot Kellie's legs were when I removed her stockings during
that romp in the woods on February 26, and thought of how hot my body would
get. I added a couple of extra-large T-shirts and had it all sent as
quickly as possible. In the meantime, I redid my hair in the short red
style.
I spent my showers caressing my body, rubbing my breasts, pinching my
nipples, and fingering my pussy. In my apartment, I was always half-naked
due to the aforementioned lack of clothing. I listened to music, dancing to
it wearing nothing but a sweatshirt (tightly stretched over my bountiful
breasts) and my G-string. I was working on what I hoped would be my final
striptease. I slept in the nude, completely exposed. My nipples and
pussy-lips were in sexual excitement all night long. If and when I became
Marty for good, I would miss being a woman in heat, capable of multiple
orgasms.
Finally, the day of the Booby Trap Grand Amateurs' Competition came.
Nelson drove me there. I got in through the back, not only for the more
direct access to the dressing room, but also to avoid having crowds stare
at my new figure. I had taken off my coat when Alan saw me and said,
"Donna! That's one surefire way of improving your chances of winning!"
"Well, whatever works," I shrugged.
"Are those real?" he asked in wonder.
"See for yourself," I said sweetly, removing my shirt. Now I had nothing
on but my bodystocking. "You know you can't wear that stripping. We
wouldn't want you naked in one fell swoop," he replied. "I know," I
whispered to him, slipping out of it. I was totally naked and hot now in
front of him. He just stared at me, then went to get my outfit.
"We had no idea you'd get bigger tits, Donna," he said as he came back
with it. "The tops may still fit, but tightly."
What he had was a softball uniform, complete with cleats. "Now, in your
act, you just played a big game, and you're going in to the locker room to
change. There'll be a fake locker and bench on stage. We want you to look
all sweated up, especially when you strip, so you've got to put this baby
oil all over you."
I started putting the sweet-smelling, somewhat slippery and shiny stuff
all over my body. It felt wonderful as I rubbed it on my breasts and on the
insides of my thighs. Alan got to rub it on my back.
Next came putting on a royal blue thong bikini bottom, which complemented
my curves nicely. Then came a long-sleeved shirt--the kind that ballplayers
wear under their uniforms in April and October when it gets cool. Alan
wanted it to give my breasts an "uplifted" look, so he asked if he could
hold them. I consented, and those hands felt so good as I stretched the
shirt over my bust. It worked so well! My breasts did look even bigger. Now
I could not see my feet at all.
I had to put the uniform pants on by feel now. Alan had to help me, as
they stuck to my baby oil-covered legs. The uniform top required some
effort buttoning because of my bust. "This was supposed to be baggy, but
then again, your figure should be a winner."
To add to the sweat effect, he had me bundle up in a blanket until it was
my turn to strip. When I finally got on the stage, I was so anxious to take
those clothes off.
With all the sweat and baby oil, I never felt heavier. After tossing my
cap into the fake locker, I began to take off the uniform top. Unbuttoning
it was hard, so when I popped the buttons, it got loud approval from the
fans.
Now came even harder parts--those cleats, socks and pants. I lay on the
bench in front of the locker, sensually bending my legs toward me to take
off the first two. But those pants were really tight! They clung to my
legs. I got off the bench, and finally decided to go to one side of the
stage, roll them down and gracefully step out of them.
I danced to the other side of the stage. I reached for the bottom of that
shirt, stretching and straining to get it off. I had to keep pulling them
up in front, then in back, slowly revealing my tummy. I swayed my legs and
hips while I did this, keeping the guys really hypnotized. When I finally
got to the breasts, I bent over, pulled the shirt over my back, then sprung
back up to make those breasts really bounce! Now I never heard cheers so
loud.
But I didn't care about winning anymore. My pussy and ass were sweaty,
and I desperately wanted to cool them off. I thumbed that thong bikini and
stretched it as I lay on the bench. I kept teasing them like crazy with
those sparkling Kellie-Bellie eyes, making them wonder if I would ever
reveal that queen-size pussy. Then I fastened my bikini to the end of the
bench and slithered down to the other end, and it felt as if it slid down
my ass and legs all by itself. I did some more sexually suggestive
dancing--no getting off the stage this time.
When Alan came out to announce the next entry, he was so shocked to see
me naked. I shut him up by taking the thong bikini off the floor near the
bench and shoved it down his pants. I knew from how hard he was that I got
him excited, too.
I went back to the dressing room and showered. I had just put my
bodystocking back on when Alan came back and told me that I was the
undisputed winner of the Booby Trap Grand Amateurs competition. All I did
was be a hot young woman for a week, and now I had a contract to sign to be
the Booby Trap's newest featured dancer. Oh, my, I was in a jam, what with
that and Peter's demand for me to have his baby!
TO BE CONCLUDED: Now Chapter IX will be the last one! As I said, I have
not written it yet. By the way, Mr. vanCouvering, that idea about
"getting a taste of one's own medicine" will be used in Chapter IX.
Thanks to all for their support.
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