A Chance Encounter Leads To Changes

He Makes Me Feel Like a New Woman

Chapter 1: A Chance Encounter Leads to Changes

Emily briefly looked up from her phone as she saw the blonde woman walk into her subway car, then immediately did a double-take, conscious that she was staring. She didn't often see women dressed like that, especially not in Boston in late January. The blonde who had just walked in was wearing a ruffled black skirt that was shorter than anything Emily had seen anyone wear in public, paired with hot pink fishnet stockings that ended in a lacy band on the blonde's thighs and black stiletto heels that had to be at least six inches high. She also wore a short coat made from hot pink fake fur that didn't cover anything below her ribcage, and under that a black mesh top. A rhinestone choker and hot pink plastic hoop earrings completed the ensemble.

This wasn't just slutty, this was a caricature of a stripper. Who would wear something like that in public? Wasn't she cold? Emily tried not to judge sex workers, but couldn't she wear something decent on the subway and then change when she got where she was going? A glance around the car showed Emily that she wasn't the only one who had noticed.

Emily didn't notice the man who was with this blonde until after a moment, when the blonde started rubbing her body against him suggestively and whispering in his ear. Later, she wouldn't remember exactly what this man had looked like, only the vague impression that he was unremarkable. Maybe this blonde wasn't a stripper then - maybe a prostitute? Emily realized she didn't know anything about prostitutes in her city, but it seemed impossible that this was normal -- how would she not have seen anything like this before?

Emily was still wondering what relationship this blonde had to the man when she saw the blonde reaching down to stroke and caress the man's cock through his pants. This had to be too much -- she looked around the car to see who else was outraged but only saw some twenty-something guys pointing and remarking excitedly and everyone else ignoring them.

Emily watched the blonde lock eyes with one of the guys in the car and bite her lip suggestively. She saw the strange woman rub her ass on her male friend's crotch, lean back against him, and put both of her hands behind her back to reach back to his pants. Her hands came forward again to pull a small bottle of some clear liquid from her pink coat and put a thick dab onto one hand. Was that hand sanitizer? She put the bottle back in her pocket, rubbed the clear liquid on both hands, then reached her arms back behind her again.

Emily couldn't clearly see what happened, but she saw the man push his hips forward against the blonde, heard an obviously sexual moan escape her lips, and understood exactly what was going on.

Emily looked back around the subway car in shock, a slight gasp escaping her mouth. Wasn't anyone going to do anything? These people were clearly fucking in public, without any shame or respect for whoever else might be on the car. All she saw were blank stares and some approving nods from the young men in the car. The blonde reached up to grab onto the overhead rail, her pink faux fur coat moving up until it didn't cover her body at all. She was gasping and moaning in what Emily thought was an exaggerated show of pleasure.

When Emily saw the man grab the blonde by the hips and start obviously thrusting against her she audibly scoffed. She fixed a scowl onto the man until he met her gaze, and then she rolled her eyes and looked back at her phone. This was the absolute limit of how much confrontation Emily was capable of. She could hear the blood rushing to her ears, drowning out every other sound. She pitched her head forward, hiding her face behind a curtain of her lavender hair.

After what felt like an eternity, the blood stopped rushing to her ears and Emily realized she could still hear soft moans coming from the blonde. She hesitantly looked up and saw the man staring directly at her with a smirk on his face. He beckoned to her with a single crooked finger. Later Emily couldn't be sure why she stood up and went to him. The best she could figure was that she was scared and responded by obeying. Wasn't that how people responded to trauma and fear?

"What was that look?" the man asked.

"What look?" she responded, immediately feeling herself deflate at the impossibility of lying to this man. She knew he could see right through her.

The man just stared at her, tilting his head slightly.

"I just think what you're doing is wrong and inappropriate," Emily blurted out, her ears warming again.

"You think it's wrong that I'm giving her what she wants? Do you think women shouldn't experience pleasure?" he responded. He looked down and Emily followed his gaze to see his hand under the blonde's skirt, rubbing her clit. As Emily watched the blonde had a shuddering orgasm, her legs twitching and her head pitching forward as her breathing became intensely fast and then slow. One of her hands slipped from the overhead rail, slick with what Emily now realized was lube, but she caught herself again quickly.

"Of course that's not what I mean! But you shouldn't be doing... that... to her here. You're just degrading her and using her."

"Doing what?" the man asked, "Giving her what she wants? Tending to her needs?"

Emily was getting angry that the man hadn't stopped thrusting his hips while they were talking. "You shouldn't be fucking her in public like this! This is wrong!" She glanced around the subway car, wondering why nobody else was saying anything.

"Well, look." the man said, grabbing one of the blonde's thighs and lifting it up. The motion rearranged her skirt, and Emily now had a clear view of the blonde's glistening pussy and the man's cock thrusting in and out of her asshole behind it. She could also see that the blonde wasn't wearing a bra, and could see her hard pink nipples poking through her mesh top now that the coat was out of the way.

"What we're doing," the man continued "wouldn't even be considered sex by a good Catholic girl. This is just two people having fun in a way that doesn't hurt anyone."

"What are you talking about? This is illegal and wrong and..." Emily lost her train of thought watching the blonde's body rocking back and forth. Those tits are too big to be real, Emily thought. But they looked so soft while they bounced. Wasn't that how you were supposed to tell natural breasts from implants?

This girl was stunningly beautiful. Her hips and breasts were all soft curves, but her arms and legs and abs were thin and slightly muscular. Emily felt ashamed of her own inferior body, conscious of her small breasts and bony hips. She was also skinny, but without the strength or curves of this blonde. Why would someone who looked like this prostitute herself in public like this when she could easily be a model?

Emily didn't think of herself as someone who was attracted to women, but she saw the blonde's pussy glistening and smelled her wetness and felt herself becoming aroused. How could she be this turned on by this misogynistic, disgusting display?

"What's wrong?" the man asked, his smirk deepening, "is it wrong that I'm giving my little Fuckdoll" he pulled on the blonde's hair, as if to show Emily that Fuckdoll was her name "a good time?"

"No!" Emily shouted out, feeling unheard and alone, "it's wrong that you're taking advantage of her!"

"Fuckdoll," the man asked the blonde, "do you want me to take advantage of you?"

"Yes Master," the blonde replied in a breathy voice that would have sounded pornographic even without the display she was putting on, "I want you to use me and I want everyone to see!"

"So," the man continued, looking directly into Emily's eyes, "what's the problem here?"

"The problem is that you're a pig!" Emily replied, finding herself angry that the man hadn't stopped thrusting his cock in and out of Fuckdoll's asshole while they were talking, and for some reason just as angry that the blonde was audibly building towards another orgasm. How could she keep her balance like that, on those stiletto heels with one leg up? Sure she was holding onto the overhead rail, but still? Emily thought she would break an ankle if it was her. Emily shook away the thought of herself in Fuckdoll's place, embarrassed that she found it arousing.

"And," the man asked.

"And..." Emily repeated, somewhere between a question and a placeholder for a thought she hadn't finished.

"And you're jealous because you're not getting fucked like she is," the man said. He pulled his cock out of the blonde's ass with a soft pop, and she collapsed to the floor of the subway car with another shuddering orgasm. "Why don't you get off here with me?" he asked, holding his hand out to Emily as the car slowed, "this is my stop."

Everything in Emily's brain screamed that she should run away while she took the man's hand and followed him onto the subway platform. When she saw the blonde, who she now knew as Fuckdoll, crawling on her hands and knees after them she felt a sense of weary resignation.

"Let me see your tits," the man said.

"Fuck you, you disgusting pig," Emily replied, "I'm not some cheap slut for you to just..."

"No!" he interrupted, "I didn't ask you to show me your bra. Take the shirt and bra all the way off."

Emily looked down and was horrified to see that she had lifted up her sweater and shirt to show the man what was underneath. She bit her lip in frustration as she felt herself remove her coat, then lift her sweater and shirt over her head. She threw the clothes in a heap on the dirty floor of the subway platform. She couldn't stop herself from reaching back and unclasping her bra, then throwing it onto the pile of clothes on the ground.

She heard a stranger passing by say, "nice," and snap a picture on his phone. Her cheeks flushed with humiliation, and she desperately wanted to cross her arms in front of her small breasts and hard nipples but somehow couldn't.

"Not bad," the man said, "I mean obviously not up to Fuckdoll's level, but you have potential." He looked down at Fuckdoll, who was on her knees with her arms wrapped around his legs. She stroked his cock with one hand. Fuckdoll kissed the cock, gently at first, then more intensely, and finally she pushed her face down onto it and audibly gagged as it disappeared entirely into her mouth.

"Let's see how you look with your arms over your head," he asked. At this point they both knew she would obey.

"What about down on your knees?" he asked. She dropped to her knees in front of the turnstiles as another trainload of people rushed by them, feeling a fresh flush of shame as men looked down approvingly at her and Fuckdoll on their knees in front of this man. It was only Fuckdoll sucking his cock, but Emily was sure people passing by would think they were both servicing him.

"You've sucked cock before, haven't you?" he asked.

"Well, I mean," Emily was uncomfortable with the question, but when she looked back into the man's eyes she knew she had to answer honestly. "I've had two men put their penises in my mouth: my college boyfriend Alex and an RA named Raymond I had for a class in undergrad. I never let either of them do it more than once and I let them know how disgusting I thought it was."

"I see," the man said, "so if you think oral is too degrading you probably haven't had much anal."

Emily sputtered and scoffed, looking for the right words to tell the man how disgusted she was by the whole line of questioning. She made the mistake of looking into Fuckdoll's sultry blue eyes, caked in eye shadow and mascara and looking sideways at her past Fuckdoll's mouthful of cock. Emily had heard the phrase "fuck-me eyes" before, but she never really understood what it meant until she saw Fuckdoll beckoning her into a world of cocksucking and sodomy with just her eyes.

When Fuckdoll took the man's cock out of her mouth to breathlessly tell Emily, "it's SO good. You'll love it," Emily felt an intense surge of emotion at the erect cock that was pointed right at her face. She wasn't quite sure whether she was disgusted or aroused at the idea that it was pointed right at her. If he ejaculated at that moment, it would spray her right in her face. A second later Fuckdoll took the cock back into her mouth and the feeling passed.

"If you want some of this cock," the man said, ignoring Fuckdoll as she gagged and moaned into his cock, "I'll meet you back here on Saint Patrick's Day, and you can have it if you do exactly what I tell you..."

*****

What a piece of shit.

Emily was awake in her bed, staring angrily at the ceiling.

How had she let this man get to her? Why had she taken off her clothes for him? And why couldn't she stop thinking about his cock? She ran it over and over in her mind -- that sound his cock made when he pulled it out of Fuckdoll's asshole, and the way it glistened with lube. Why couldn't she stop thinking about what it must have tasted like, and how it would have felt in her mouth? And why was she touching herself now thinking about this piece of shit?

*****

Emily was back at work in the library. She knew she could bury herself in her work when times were tough, and her job as a research librarian at a university kept her busy enough to ignore personal drama. That's how it had been when she had to move out because of all of the drama with her old roommate, Ethan. That's how it had been when she broke up with Mark. This was such a smaller issue than those, she could surely forget about this.

But sitting at her desk, she felt herself squirming and becoming uneasy thinking about the man and his glistening cock. She thought about the moaning noises Fuckdoll made when she sucked on his cock and thought it had to be an act. It had to be, right? There's no way a woman could enjoy sucking on a man's cock. Or was his gorgeous, perfect cock somehow different?

Emily's pants were too tight, and she had to open up the top button to loosen them. She would be mortified if anyone saw her like this, but the way her pants were pressing on her labia was too stimulating and made it hard to concentrate. She just had to loosen them. Was she on her period? Was this some kind of swelling? These pants hadn't been too tight when she put them on this morning.

*****

"Emily! What the fuck!?!?"

Emily was shocked back to awareness of her surroundings. When had she pulled her pants down past her hips? How long had she had her hand in her panties, rubbing her clit? Was she thinking this whole time about that man's cock and how he told her she could suck it if she followed his instructions?

"Tell me this isn't what it looks like," her co-worker James said, "tell me something."

*****

Emily was walking around the city, lost in thought. She couldn't believe she had been caught masturbating at work. She was humiliated that she had been given the rest of the day off and told not to come back until the following week. Had she been drugged the night before? That would explain why she had taken her top off for that pervert and listened to him instead of calling the police.

How long was this going to take to wear off? And why did her thoughts keep wandering back to him and his instructions? And why was she so fucking horny? She glanced down, hoping the wetness she was feeling between her legs wasn't visible to people passing by.

She wandered aimlessly until her feet stopped. She looked up in shocked disbelief to see she was at the door to a body piercing parlor.

No. Absolutely not.

The man had told her to get her tongue pierced, but she wasn't going to do that. He had also told her to get breast implants and to do... other things. This wasn't happening.

But... she thought to herself, she had friends in high school who had their tongues pierced. She didn't think less of them, did she? Of course she hadn't kept in touch with them, but it's not a character flaw or anything.

She wondered if it might have been a fear of disapproval from her family that stopped her from piercing her tongue in high school. She didn't remember any specific conversation, and she couldn't remember wanting her tongue pierced, but that wasn't really the point. Was this really any different from dying her hair lavender? Her body was her own, and she could do what she wanted. If she wanted her tongue pierced, she could get it pierced. She was doing this because she wanted to, and not because any man told her to.

She reached out to the door, full of pride at her self-determination. Then she felt a fresh wave of warmth and wetness between her legs, and was ashamed to know it meant she was excited to be one step closer to sucking the man's cock.