Abby Winters Peachy - Genghis Khan's Guide To Karmen Abby Winters Excellence

This is a sequel to this.
A wave of pleasure emanates from your lips. You moan softly, and quietly.
It is the night before you are sent into your new home. A week after those amazing tests, Doctor Grey came in for one final session to gauge your desperation; you have been forbidden from sexual contact ever since. You are forbidden to wear anything; not that you mind – wearing clothes makes you feel itchy, and you feel clean, now that you have no hair on your legs or on your pussy. Your hair is a glowing golden colour; they are long enough to tickle your nipples every time your hair brushes on your tits.
The nurses seem excited when they come into your room to administer the drug; they talk about being like you, finding a home of their own. They seem quite horny, too; one night, one of the big-breasted nurses came in, secretly fingering herself. She let you taste the wetness from her pussy – it was so arousing that you pushed her down onto your bed and licked all her pussy juices up; you were quite surprised and aroused when you tasted semen from a man flowing out of her pussy.
"Oh, that was from one of the interning doctors," she tittered. "Everyone's on a crazy fuckfest these days. But you're the most lucky- ooooh oh yesss. OH YES OH YES FFFUUUCCK"
You had a vague sense of what she said until she came. She gushed, just like you did when when Doctor Grey administered the test to you, and after that amazing orgasm, she returned the favour.
You've been given a new name. Betty. It sounds nice, but echoes of your past memories from before the lab still come forth at times. The first time you fell in love. The time you gave that presentation about the dangers of pre-marital... something. That time you got your college degree. That time at the club. The vague memory of waxing and shaving your pussy and getting ready for your first time. And the vague memory of going to the doctor, thinking you had something wrong with yourself.
What's wrong with myself? you think. Nothing much. I just need to cum.
The memories slip by; they momentarily flow into your mind and slip out. All you feel is desire. A desire to serve a man. A desire for pleasure.

The morning comes, and you have some real food for once. Eggs and bacon.
You've been so famished recently. You vaguely remember being rather petite; but you notice your abby winters youporn rather perky tits today. You stare at them as you sit up, They are pale; your nipples are erect and tender.
"Eat, Betty," the nurse says. She winks at you; you realise you still remember that night.
You finish your food, and lie down on your bed, imagining all the pleasure you can have with the man of your dreams. Imagining that penis you desperately want in all of your holes.

Doctor Grey appears shortly, with a man in a suit. They lead you to the back of a van at the loading bay of the building; you're still not clothed, nor offered any clothes.
It is the dead of winter; you feel cold. But the back of the van is warm. You clamber in, and notice the man next to you; he is naked, but his cock is flaccid.
"Betty, meet your new owner," Doctor Grey says. "You shall only call him Master, and nothing else."
Master nods at Doctor Grey. He speaks, with a rather British accent. "Doctor Grey, thank you for your services. You sure Betty here has completed her transformation?"
The leather seat feels warm on your butt. "Yes, Betty has completed her transformation. She will no longer need the drug. She will, from time to time, remember who she was. If that happens, give me a call and I will send down pills."
"Now Betty, you are not allowed to pleasure or touch me while we get home. Nor are you to touch yourself unless I say so," Master says. "If you do touch yourself, you will be punished."
The ride to the Master's house is long.

You reach Master's mansion in the evening. It is big – the van stops at one of the loading bays, and the back door opens.
You are ushered into a room with five beds. It is large; natural light streams out of the windows, which offer a view of the mountains; abby winters marigold three other women sit at their beds. One is clad in an uncomfortable linen dress; the other two are naked. A smell – of arousing strawberries – emanates from the room.
You are offered dinner; dinner is a satisfying steak, salad and fries.
"Hi, I'm Esther," one of them says. She, like you, has beautiful blond hair; but her skin sports abby winter pics a copper tan. You notice her wetness dripping down her bare legs and her erect nipples on her sizable bosom.
"I'm Betty," you say. The room is warm; warm enough to be comfortable. You imagine your finger – hell, any finger – in your warm pussy; you imagine the waves of pleasure that accompany your touch, down there.
The other naked girl turns around and introduces herself. She is a beautiful redhead, sporting round, perky tits, fair skin and a lovely, hairless pussy. "I'm Sammy," she says.
The girl clad in her uncomfortable linen dress keeps quiet. She is also a red-haired girl. "Wendy's not allowed to talk," Betty says. "She touched herself."
You notice her i love abby winters biting her lips, trying not to make a sound. A silent buzzing emanates from her dress. All of a sudden, it stops; Wendy's expression of pleasure quickly contorts into pain as she is suddenly denied of her orgasm.
"Master is controlling her pleasures with a remote-control vibrator," Sammy whispers quietly. "Poor Wendy."
You return to your bed, trying not to touch yourself. You know you are being watched, but you don't mind.
In fact, it is vaguely arousing.

You wake up to cries from Wendy's bed. Screams. Screams of pleasure, of orgasm. The buzzing has intensified; it sustains for an hour. Two hours. Three hours. The pleasure turns to pain, and the pain turns to pleasure. The strawberry smell – of Wendy's wetness, presumably – flood the room.
You have this desire to help her out, but you don't dare to. You simply go back to sleep, dreaming of dreams of cock and tits, of your first love, of sex, of the tests you were given.
You touch yourself, only briefly; but you find that you are sore. You feel empty; wet; aroused.
Oh, how you want cock.

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