I've tried something new here -- I hope you like it.
Please do vote and send me comments -- both of those help me decide which stories to write further chapters for.
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Honey found herself "there" once again, wherever "there" was.
Her clothes were along the lines of most of her outfits when she was transported -- although sometimes they were more erotic or kinky. Always high heels -- shoes, strappy sandals or knee-length boots. Always a skirt or dress, never trousers or jeans. Always a low-cut top -- sometimes with a bra, sometimes without one. She was relieved that this time they were smart-sexy, rather than slutty-sexy.
Honey never remembered how she got here -- she just suddenly was. It was as if it were a dream, although she knew it wasn't one. She remembered her "real" life perfectly, exactly what she had done up until she arrived here, who she had spoken to, what she had eaten, even which TV programmes she had watched.
It was as if someone had just flicked a switch and she was magically transported here. She knew she would remain here for a few hours and then she would, just as suddenly, be transported back "home", to real life.
The strange thing was that when she was here -- wherever "here" was -- she was aware of and remembered her life here and "back home" and yet when she was where she thought of as home, she knew she had no memory of her time here.
She knew the visitors would appear soon and she knew that for some reason that wouldn't bother her here, even though back home she would have been completely horrified if she did some of the things she did here.
Of course, Honey had her fair share of attention at home. At 38 years old she was a very attractive woman. Chestnut hair and brown eyes and a figure that used to be athletic but then filled out -- and now was even more sexy than it was when she was younger. Her legs were a little on the plump side but that just seemed to make them look even better when her calves were thrust out by a pair of high heels. Her meaty thighs now seemed as if their sole purpose was to look good adorned by stocking tops and suspender clips. And her breasts were not just large, they always seemed to be just about to fall out of her bra, a quality which ensured that males from 18 to 80 (and a few females, too) found themselves quite unable to remove their gaze from Honey's deliciously plump titties.
The man with the clipboard appeared in front of her. He often appeared when she was here, but not always.
"Good morning, Honey. How are we today?" he said, while making some note or other on his form.
"Fine, thank you," said Honey -- and she was fine. She was always well looked after when she was here. It was just that ... things worked differently here.
"Is there anything you need? A sandwich? A coffee or a glass of water? A glass of wine?"
"Just a water would be good," Replied Honey and the man made a quick call on his phone to order it.
"Now, a few questions if you don't mind," The man said, sitting on a chair just in front of her. Honey remained standing. Sometimes there was a chair or a stool or something -- but not today.
Honey heard the curtain behind her rustle and wondered who it would be this time. The visitors varied and ... "Sorry -- could you repeat that?" she said, realising that the man was waiting for an answer.
"Of course," he replied. "You know the drill by now. I have to run through the form and when we are done you are free to go back home whenever you want. But the questions do take a bit of concentration to answer."
Honey tried to put the rustling of the curtain and the wondering who was visiting out of her mind so she could concentrate on answering the questions.
"Basics first. Full name, date of birth and address, please"
As expected, as soon as Honey started answering she felt the hand. She never knew where it would start -- this time it lightly traced her right leg from her ankle, over the bulge of her calf, the back of her knee and under the hem of her skirt to her thigh.
"Concentrate please." Said the man with the clipboard, "We have a busy day here today and we'd like to process you quickly, if possible."
Honey never knew exactly how she was "processed". She just seemed to be asked lots of questions, often very similar but with just a slight difference, enough that she really did have to concentrate. And, of course, there were consequences if she got the answers wrong -- and the man with the clipboard was very good at spotting any inconsistencies in her answers. Seemingly innocent questions, devised so that you really did have to concentrate on them.
Honey tried to clear her mind and concentrate on his voice. "Honey .." she started but was immediately interrupted.
"Name and address to be spelt out, please." he said.
Of course, that meant Honey had to concentrate that little bit harder -- and so it was a little later that she realised the hand was gently rubbing her slit over her panties and another hand was gently cupping her right breast. She hesitated -- but a stern glance from the man with the clipboard brought her mind back to the spelling while the hands continued their fondling.
The hands were urgent, lacking finesse -- but still enjoyable. She wondered who today's visitor would be.
"First section done -- that wasn't too difficult, was it?" he smiled.
Honey knew that she would have a minute or so while he checked her answers before he started on the next section. She knew the sections would get more difficult as they went on and she would really need to concentrate so she tried to block out the feelings the hands were starting to encourage.
One breast was now hanging loose, eased out of her blouse and bra. The hand stroked and cupped it and teased the nipple. The other hand worked her panties to one side of her pussy lips and started easing a finger inside.
She looked over her shoulder with trepidation. "Oh no!" she cried. The hands belonged to Brian, a neighbour she used to babysit when he was younger. He always stared at her breasts and tried to look up her skirt, even then. Now an even hornier 20-year-old, he probably thought he was in some fantasy dream and didn't question how he came to be groping his babysitter of a few years ago.
"Hi Honey," he stuttered, his hands not stopping their fondling and groping. "Haven't seen you for a while. You OK?"
That was the trouble with visitors transported here. They seemed to think it was perfectly normal to take all sorts of sexual liberties with the sexy, shapely, sexily dressed woman in front of them. It was only Honey who was embarrassed. It was as if she took on their embarrassment and added it to her own.
"Concentrate!" she told herself. "Just let them have their fun and they will move on."
It wasn't that Honey minded them taking liberties with her body. Here she was perfectly fine with any sexual activity they might desire. It was just the distraction to her concentration that irritated her. That and the embarrassment.
It was more than embarrassment, really. It was a sort of shame or humiliation that she would let people do these things to her. That she would actually enjoy them doing these things to her.
Although no-one had actually told her it was a rule, Honey somehow knew that once the owners of the hands were satisfied, they would move on. They didn't seem to be allowed to stay beyond that. It also seemed to be a rule that Honey could suggest they didn't do things or that they limited what they did -- but couldn't actually do anything to stop them.
And so, when Honey felt an erection brushing against her thigh, she opened her legs to allow it to slip between her soft, nylon clad thighs -- and then immediately clamped them shut over them. It didn't always work, sometimes they wanted to rub their erections against her pantied bottom or use her bum cleavage to rest their erections along and masturbate themselves this way. Sometimes they just plain wanted to slide their erections slowly into her moist pussy. But often she was lucky and she could excite them much more quickly this way, allow them their release and allow her to concentrate on the questions. But it did increase her sense of humiliation/shame. She would blush, stammer, look away, plead with them not to go too far, maybe just play with themselves while they looked up her skirt or fondled her breast, but nothing more.
It never worked, of course. In this world, her visitors saw nothing whatsoever wrong with fondling a sexy woman and even doing whatever popped into their minds to satisfy their swollen erections. And in this world, erections were always ... extremely erect.
"Now, which family members?" the man with the clipboard said, "Just choose three."
Honey tried to block out the tingling feeling which was gradually growing throughout her pussy and even her thighs. It didn't help that the erection between her thighs was now prodding urgently at her pussy lips.
"Well, my husband, of course," said Honey, wondering why he didn't just get on with it and push that thing into her pussy. "We have been married almost 19 years and we love each other very much." She was now trying to push her body backwards, willing the throbbing erection to enter her pussy. If she could only get him to orgasm, he might leave her alone to concentrate on the questions.
"My mother. We can talk about everything. And I think my nephew for the third. He's growing into such a handsome young ... oh! ... man." The hesitation was because that teasing erection had finally decided it wanted to slip into the moist, warm bed which was Honey's pussy.
The man with the clipboard raised an eyebrow but didn't comment on the hesitation.
As if by magic, Honey's husband, Frank, her nephew, Billy and her mother, Betty were all standing next to her. As with Honey, situations which would horrify them were quite mundane in this strange world and Billy uttered "Oh, stockings." And almost absent-mindedly started fondling his aunt's legs.
"Hello dear." Said her mum and gave Honey a big kiss right on the lips, "Father Liam sends his regards." Even in this world, Honey was a little surprised to find her very religious mother slipping her tongue into Honey's mouth and moving her hand around Honey's one still-enclosed breast.
After what seemed a very long time, Betty broke off the kiss and noticed the young man fucking her daughter's pussy. "Didn't Honey used to look after you a few years ago? It must be lovely to fuck her now -- I can only imagine how horny you must have been having her around. I'm awfully sorry but we may not be here for long -- would you mind if we jumped the queue? You are welcome to use me if you want. I'm not as young or as pretty as my daughter is but I do think my breasts are even bigger than hers -- look."
