TOTAL CORRUPTION 1 by Pika

Disclaimer: The following is fiction. The story’s content does not represent the writer’s beliefs, opinions, or attitudes. This story is intended for adult entertainment only. The characters and events depicted in this work are fictional. The author does not condone or promote unlawful activity as the story describes. By continuing to read this work, you acknowledge that you are an adult who wishes to read works of fantasy and fiction for the purpose only of fantasy. All the characters in this story are adults. They may play different ages for the fictional character they are depicting, but they remain at all times adults.

Feature Writer: Pika

Feature Title: TOTAL CORRUPTION 1

Published: 21.03.2025

Story Codes: Dark Corruption, Transsexual, Bimbo-Tranformation, Young Ones, Gay, Domination

Characters:

• Mr Xavier Percival (65 years old pervert who controls Stepford and president of XP Corp enjoys corruption)
• Mr Bill Harper (45 years old, married, 2 kids, accountant. Moved to Stepford after being offered a job)
• Mrs Steph Harper (38 years old, married, 2 kids, housewife. Reluctant to move Stepford)
• Allison Harper (15 years old, was rebellious but is making new friends and conforming to Stepford)
• David Harper (11 years old curious and adventurous spirit)
• Coach Tyrone (33 years old Allison’s cheer coach has a big black cock)
• Nina (29 years old trans-bimbo whore and Bill’s manager at XP Corp)

Synopsis: Stepford is a suburban utopia of green pristine lawns, white picket fences, clean streets, good schools, safe neighborhoods. Mr Xavier Percival is the founder of Stepford a mysterious man. Stepford hold dark secret under its sterile veneer.

Total Corruption 1

CHAPTER ONE — THE NEW ARRIVALS

Mr Xavier Percival, a man of distinguished age and a certain peculiar charm, stood before the gleaming glass walls of his office, his eyes surveying the pristine town of Stepford from his vantage point in the XP Corporation headquarters. The town, a bastion of his creation, sprawled out beneath him, a tableau of meticulously manicured lawns and gleaming white picket fences, each house a testament to the singular vision he had brought to life. The townsfolk were a collection of families with peculiar desires.

The Harper family had been in Stepford for almost a month now, a relocation prompted by the mysterious job offer extended to Bill by Mr Percival himself. Bill Harper, a mild-mannered accountant of forty-five, had been drawn in by the prospect of a new life in a place that seemed too good to be true.

His wife, Steph, initially skeptical, had been won over by the picture-perfect suburban dreamscape that greeted them upon their arrival. Their children, Allison, a blossoming fifteen-year-old, and David, a naturally curious eleven-year-old, had found the town’s welcoming atmosphere to be a refreshing change from the hustle and bustle of California.

One evening, as the shadows grew long and the air was filled with the scent of freshly cut grass, a sleek, black sedan pulled up in front of the Harper’s new home. The engine purred quietly as Mr Xavier Percival, the enigmatic founder of the XP Corporation and the town of Stepford, emerged from the vehicle. He was a man of sixty-five, yet he carried himself with the vitality and charm of someone half his age. His sharp eyes took in the quaint abode, a perfect fit for the meticulous landscape he had engineered.

Bill, noticing the car, hurried to the door, a mix of excitement and trepidation fluttering in his stomach. He had yet to meet Mr Percival in person and knew that this visit could be the make-or-break moment for his new life here. He opened the door to reveal the impeccably dressed man, a smile as warm as a summer’s day gracing his face.

“Welcome to Stepford, Mr and Mrs Harper,” Mr Percival said, his voice a rich baritone that seemed to resonate with the very air, “I trust you and your delightful children are settling in nicely?”

Steph, caught off guard by the unexpected visit, smoothed her hair and offered a tentative smile.

“Yes. Thank you, Mr Percival. The town is … quite something.”

“Please, do come in,” Bill said, stepping aside to let the man enter.

The living room was a typical suburban space, with plush couches and a gleaming television, yet it felt somehow insufficient compared to Mr Percival’s grandeur.

As they sat down. The conversation turned to the children and their experiences in Stepford. Steph spoke of the kids’ new school and the friends she had made, eagerly recounting tales of Coach Tyrone’s after-school sports club, where they learned not just athletic skills but also the value of teamwork and camaraderie.

“Ah, Coach Tyrone,” Mr Percival said with a knowing smile, “Is quite the … motivator.”

Steph, ever the hospitable host, offered tea, which Mr Percival graciously accepted. As she moved to the kitchen, she couldn’t help but feel his gaze lingering on the sway of her hips, the fabric of her dress clinging to her in a way that suggested she was more than just a typical suburban housewife.

When she returned with the tea, Mr Percival’s eyes never left her, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. As she sat, the fabric of her dress shifted, exposing a hint of cleavage that she hadn’t noticed before.

“Now, Bill,” Mr Percival said, placing his hand on the benchtop counter, his pinky finger slightly bent, “I was hoping you could give me a tour of your lovely home. After all, I am responsible for the design of every inch of Stepford, but it’s always a pleasure to see how my employees’ homes reflect their personalities.”

Bill’s eyes lit up with pride, and he jumped to his feet.

“Of course, Mr Percival. This way.”

The tour began in the living room, which was adorned with framed family photos, a nod to the wholesome life they had left behind in California. They moved through the hallway, Mr Percival pausing to admire the family portrait of Bill, Steph, Allison, and David, all smiling and oblivious to the darker currents that would soon ripple through their lives.

The master bedroom was next, a sanctuary of marital bliss with its king-sized bed and en suite bathroom. Mr Percival lingered, his gaze lingering on the frilly lingerie that peeked out from Steph’s dresser drawer. He took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring slightly as if savoring an invisible scent.

“Ah, the bedroom,” he murmured, “The stage for so many of life’s most intimate moments.”

Steph blushed, her hand moving to her neck as if to shield herself from his scrutiny. She had always been a private person, but there was something about Mr Percival that made her feel exposed as if she were laying bare her deepest desires before him.

The tour continued into the children’s rooms, where David’s collection of action figures and comic books was met with a knowing nod from Mr Percival, “this is my son David” Bill said, his voice proud.

“Ah, the mind of a young man,” Mr Percival mused, his eyes lingering on the posters of muscular superheroes that adorned the walls, ”So full of potential, so ripe for molding.”

“And this,” Bill said, pushing open the door to reveal a space that was a testament to Allison’s burgeoning adolescence, “Is where our daughter Allison spends most of her time.”

The room was a jumble of pastel colors, with a canopy bed draped in sheer fabric that whispered in the breeze from the open window. The walls were plastered with posters of boy bands and celebrities.

Mr Percival’s eyes lit up at the sight of Allison.

“It seems your daughter has quite the eye for beauty,” he said, his tone thick with implication.

Allison blushed and looked down at her feet, feeling the weight of his gaze on her.

“Thank you, Mr Percival,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

With a satisfied smile, Mr Percival turned to leave, pausing at the door to wink at her.

“Keep up the good work at the sports club, Miss Allison,” he said, his voice low and seductive, “Coach Tyrone and I have high hopes for you.”

The door clicked shut behind him, and Mr Xavier Percival’s presence lingered in the air like the scent of expensive cologne. The Harpers exchanged glances, unsure of what to make of the encounter. Bill, ever the optimist, saw the gleaming potential in the town’s leader, while Steph felt a cold knot in her stomach that she couldn’t quite untangle. Allison hovered in the hallway, her cheeks still flushed from the unsettling exchange with Mr Percival.

“How is David fitting into his new school” asked Mr Percival as he sat comfortably in the Harpers’ living room, sipping his tea with the grace of a man accustomed to being in charge.

“He’s doing quite well,” Bill responded, trying to keep the nervousness from his voice, “He is struggling to make friends, and his teachers have told us he is slow to respond in class.”

Steph nodded in agreement.

”It’s not easy for a young boy to adapt to a new place, especially when it’s as … unique as Stepford,” she said, glancing at Mr Percival, her voice trailing off as she searched for the right words to describe the town without revealing the anxieties that plagued her.

Mr Percival leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Ah, the trials of youth,” he said with a knowing smile, “But fear not, for I believe I can offer a solution to your son’s predicament.”

The room grew quiet, the only sound the ticking of the antique grandfather clock in the corner.

“What do you mean?” Bill asked, his curiosity piqued.

“As you know, the XP Corporation prides itself on fostering a strong sense of community,” Mr Percival began, his hands steepled before him, “And as a gesture of goodwill, I would like to offer David a special opportunity. I believe that with some personal guidance, he could truly flourish in Stepford.”

Steph felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as she realized what he was hinting at.

“What kind of guidance are you referring to?” she asked cautiously.

Mr Percival took another sip of his tea, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I’d like to personally mentor, David, one-on-one. I have a keen interest in the development of the town’s young minds, and I’m certain my experience and tutelage would be beneficial to him.”

Bill’s eyes lit up with excitement, while Steph’s remained wary.

“That’s incredibly generous of you, Mr Percival,” Bill said.

Mr Percival waved her concerns away with a flick of his wrist.
“Nonsense. In a place like Stepford, I can assure you, the results will be nothing short of transformative.”

The room grew tense, the air thick with unspoken questions and implications. Allison, who had been quietly listening from the hallway, felt a strange excitement stirring within her at the thought of her brother being taken under Mr Percival’s wing.

“What would this mentorship entail?” Bill asked, his voice a mix of excitement and caution.

“Simple,” Mr Percival replied, “I’d like to spend some time with David, getting to know him, understanding his interests, and helping him to navigate the social dynamics of our little town.”

Steph’s eyes narrowed.

“And what exactly are these social dynamics you speak of?”

Mr Percival’s smile grew broader — his teeth gleaming.

“Ah, you see, that is the beauty of Stepford. Our town is a delicate balance that ensures our residents’ happiness and contentment. I would simply be showing him the ropes, so to speak.”

“I don’t know,” she began, her voice wavering, “It seems a bit … much.”

But Bill was already nodding, his face flushed with excitement.

“Thank you, Mr Percival,” he said, “We’re honored by your offer. I’m sure it will be a wonderful opportunity for David.”

Mr Percival’s smile grew even broader — if that was possible.

“You think it over. When you’re ready I’ll arrange for him to join me at the corporate offices after school sometime.”

With that, he stood, placing his teacup gently on the coffee table.

“Thank you for the lovely evening, Mr and Mrs. Harper. I look forward to seeing what the future holds for young David.”

As the door closed behind him, Bill turned to Steph, his eyes alight with enthusiasm.

“Can you believe it? Our son, being mentored by the president of XP Corp himself!”

But Steph’s expression remained guarded.

“I don’t know, Bill,” she said, her voice low, “There’s something about this town that doesn’t sit right with me.”

Bill looked at her, his excitement dimming slightly.

“What do you mean?”

“Look around you,” she gestured to the windows that framed the pristine street outside, “Everyone looks the same. The women all have … those … exaggerated features.”

“They’re just … curvy,” Bill said, trying to dismiss her concerns.

“It’s more than that,” she insisted, her eyes flashing with something akin to anger, “Their breasts are … massive. And the way the teenagers dress … it’s like they’re all auditioning for a porn movie.”

“Allison’s new friends have her wearing something shorter and tighter every time I turn around to look.”

Steph’s voice grew shrill with each word, her hands gesticulating wildly as she spoke. Bill looked at her, his eyes slightly glazed over. The words she spoke resonated with the whispers of doubt that had been growing inside him since their move to Stepford, but he didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to see the cracks in the shiny veneer of their new life.

“Steph, come on,” Bill said, trying to soothe her, “It’s just a phase. All teenagers go through this.”

But Steph wasn’t listening. She was too busy pacing back and forth, her high heels clacking against the hardwood floor.

“You haven’t seen the way they look at her, Bill. It’s not just the clothes. It’s the way they look at her like she’s some kind of … of …” she couldn’t find the words.

“Some kind of what?” Bill prodded, his voice a mix of curiosity and annoyance.

“Like she’s some kind of prize,” she spat out, “Like she’s a plaything for them to use and discard.”

Bill sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair.

“They’re just being friendly, Steph. You’re overreacting.”

“Friendly?” she scoffed, “The only thing they’re friendly about is their willingness to turn our daughter into one of those … those … bimbo sluts that parade around this town!”

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with accusation and fear. Bill flinched at the harshness of her tone but didn’t argue. He knew she wasn’t wrong. The women of Stepford, with their impossibly large breasts and vacuous expressions, were a constant reminder of the town’s unspoken rules.

“You’re always working late,” Steph continued, her voice trembling, “You never see what’s happening to our family.”

Bill looked down at his hands, which were clutching his empty teacup.

“I’m just trying to provide for us,” he mumbled.

“Provide for us?” she scoffed, ”What good is money if we lose our souls in the process?”

“Steph we have been here a little over a month, I have already been invited to join the country golf club, our daughter is excelling at school and made new friends. One of the most powerful men in town has offered to mentor our son. Stepford is a new leaf for us, escape the crime-ridden neighborhood we were in.”

Bill tried to calm her down, his voice a gentle reminder of the promises that had lured them here.

“A leaf that is slowly wrapping around us and suffocating our children!” Steph shot back, her eyes flashing with anger, “Look at Allison, she’s changing Bill, she’s becoming one of them!”

Bill sighed heavily, setting down his empty teacup with a clink. He knew what she meant. Allison had indeed started to adopt the look and mannerisms of the Stepford teenagers, her once modest wardrobe now replaced with clothes that were a tad too tight and a shade too short. Her grades had improved dramatically and she had become popular overnight, but there was something about the way she talked, the way she moved, that made him uncomfortable.

“And what about you, Bill?” she accused, “You’re never home. You’re always at that office of yours, working late with those … those … “

“Those what, Steph?” Bill challenged his voice a mix of frustration and confusion.

“Those bimbo sluts and chauvinistic men who stare at me when I am at the shops or running errands you call colleagues!” she spat out.

The accusation stung, but Bill knew there was a kernel of truth to it. The women at the XP Corporation were indeed a peculiar bunch. Their figures were as artificial as the town’s perfect lawns, and they all seemed to have an unhealthy obsession with their bodies. It was hard not to notice the way they threw themselves at the male employees, especially the married ones.

“They’re just doing their jobs, Steph,” he said, trying to keep his voice level, “They’re all professional, I assure you.”

“Professional?” she scoffed, “They’re a bunch of brainwashed whores and pigs and you’re going to let our daughter or son become one of them!”

The fight grew heated, the words flying like shards of broken glass, each one cutting deeper than the last. Bill felt his anger rising, but he knew that this was more than just a spat about their new life in Stepford. It was a clash of values, fears and desires that had been simmering beneath the surface for too long.

“You’re just jealous,” he retorted, “You can’t handle the fact that I’m moving up in the world, that I have a future here!”

“Jealous?” she shrieked, “I’m terrified, Bill! Terrified for our children, for our marriage! Terrified of what this town is doing to us!”

The mention of their marriage irked Bill the wrong way — this ungrateful, all my hard work, late nights and sacrifices all she can do is complain — Bill thought.

“I am going to bed” Bill said bluntly as he stood up, his tie hanging slightly askew.

The tension in the room was palpable, a thick, suffocating fog that seemed to cling to every surface. Without another word, he turned and walked out of the living room, leaving Steph to stew in her anger and fear.

xxxxx

The next morning, Bill woke up early, the sun’s rays peeking through the curtains and casting a warm glow across the bed that was still rumpled from their argument the night before. He showered, shaved, and dressed in his usual work attire: a crisp white shirt and a pair of khaki pants. As he made his way downstairs, the smell of coffee filled the air, a beacon of normalcy in the tension that had settled into their home like a dense fog.

He found Steph in the kitchen, her back to him as she stared out the window at the meticulously maintained lawn. She didn’t turn when he entered, and the silence between them was as stark as the black-and-white tiles underfoot. Bill grabbed a mug and filled it with the dark liquid, the quiet clinking of the spoon against the porcelain the only sound in the room.

Without looking at her, he said, “I’m going to work.”

It was a statement, not a question. He knew she wouldn’t stop him, not after what had been said the night before. She didn’t respond, and for a moment, he wondered if she had even heard him. But then he saw her shoulders tense, and he knew she was as aware of his departure as he was of the distance that had grown between them.

As Bill drove to the XP Corporation headquarters, the town of Stepford rolled by in a blur of sameness. The same pristine lawns, the same white picket fences, the same vacant stares from the unnaturally curved women who walked the streets.

The headquarters loomed before him, a gleaming bastion of modern architecture that stood in stark contrast to the quaint suburban facade of the rest of the town. Inside, the air was cool and antiseptic, the hum of productivity a constant murmur beneath the gleaming surfaces and chrome accents.

Bill made his way to his office, his footsteps echoing in the deserted hallway. As he reached his door, it swung open, revealing his manager, Nina. At twenty-nine years old, she was a study in contradictions: a woman with the body of a teenager, her pencil skirt tight and short, protruding duck lips, breasts and ass so large they seemed to defy gravity, and the mind of a shrewd businesswoman. Her eyes, though, held a sadness that belied her youthful exterior.

“Good morning, Bill,” she said — her voice a soft purr — that sent a shiver down his spine.

Her voluptuous frame was like a second skin, her long, blond hair cascading down her back in perfect waves.

“Morning,” he mumbled, unable to meet her gaze.

“We need the Casey accounts looked over before 5 pm today,” Nina said as Bill sat at his desk, his thoughts still tangled with the fight from the previous night.

Her voice was soothing, almost too soothing, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance at her seemingly perfect demeanor. She had always had a way of making him feel like he was the one out of place in Stepford.

“Of course,” Bill mumbled, his eyes never leaving the spreadsheet on his computer screen.

The numbers danced before his eyes, a blur of reds and blacks that seemed to mock his inability to focus.

As the day dragged on Nina noticed Bill was distracted. She sailed over to his desk, her massive fake tits bobbing slightly with each step, her tight skirt revealing a hint of what lay beneath. She leaned over, placing a hand on his shoulder, her long, red nails digging into his flesh just enough to make him flinch.

“Is everything okay, Bill?” she asked.

He looked up at her, the anger from the night before replaced by a weariness that washed over him like a tidal wave. “Just… just a rough night,” he murmured, his eyes flicking to her chest before darting away again.

Nina’s smile grew knowing.

“Ah, the trials and tribulations of marriage,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief that made him feel both uncomfortable and curious, “After you finish the Casey account take a short break and meet in my office after 5 pm”

Bill nodded, not quite sure what she meant but too lost in his thoughts to argue. The day passed in a blur of numbers and emails, the minutes ticking away like a time bomb that was counting down to something he wasn’t quite ready to face.

When the clock finally struck 5, Bill found himself standing outside Nina’s office door. It was a place he had been before, but this time felt different. The air seemed charged with an energy that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He felt like he was a schoolboy again knocking on the principal’s door.

He took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Nina looked up from her desk, her eyes widening slightly in surprise before a knowing smile spread across her face.

“Ah, Bill,” she said, her voice a siren’s call that seemed to echo in the empty corridor, ”You’re right on time.”

Her office was a testament to the power of the XP Corporation, with sleek lines and chrome fixtures that gleamed in the soft light of the setting sun. The walls were adorned with framed certificates and awards, each one a testament to her rise within the company’s ranks. But it was the way she sat, her legs crossed, her short skirt riding up to reveal a hint of what lay beneath, that made Bill swallow his saliva.

Nina’s smile grew wider as she stood and sailed around her desk, the fabric of her skirt brushing against her thighs in a way that made Bill stare.

“Why don’t you have a seat,” she purred, gesturing to the plush leather chair opposite her desk.

Bill felt a strange mix of fear and anticipation as he sat, his eyes taking in the subtle yet undeniable signs of Nina’s seductive intent. Her posture was open, her breasts pushed forward as if begging for his gaze. She sat back down, crossing her legs again, the motion causing her skirt to ride even higher.

“Tell me, Bill,” she began, her voice a soft caress that seemed to coil around his heart, ”What’s really bothering you?”

He took a deep breath, the scent of her perfume filling his nostrils and clouding his judgment.

“It’s … it’s Steph,” he confessed, “She’s not happy here.”

Nina’s expression softened, and she leaned forward, placing her hand on his.

“Bill, I know moving to Stepford can be an adjustment, but trust me, it’s for the best.”

Her touch was electric, sending a jolt of desire through his body that he hadn’t felt in years. He looked up into her eyes, those pools of understanding that seemed to hold the answers to all his problems.

“You know, Bill,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper, “What is she concerned about? This town is perfect, a paradise for families like ours.”

Bill looked into Nina’s eyes, searching for the truth behind her words. Her touch was gentle, and soothing, like a balm to his weary soul.

“It’s just … she’s not fitting in,” he said, his voice tight with emotion, ”She’s so … different from the other wives here.”

Nina’s smile was knowing.

“Ah, yes,” she murmured, her eyes never leaving his, ”The other wives,” she smirked.

“Can your wife not see the sacrifices and long hours you work to support her and your family, why can’t she see the amazing family man I know you are?”

Nina’s voice was like honey, sweet and sticky, coating Bill’s ears and filling his head with sweet nothings that seemed to dull the sting of Steph’s accusations.

Bill nodded, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders.

“I don’t know, Nina. She just … she just doesn’t get it.”

Nina leaned closer, her hand sliding up his arm in a comforting gesture that made Bill’s skin tingle.

“Sometimes,” she whispered, her breath hot against his neck, “… Sometimes, people just need to be shown the way.”

Her touch was intoxicating, a siren’s song that beckoned him closer, whispering promises of acceptance and understanding that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He found himself leaning into her, the scent of her perfume making his head spin.

“Shown the way?” Bill repeated like he was caught in a trance.

“Yes,” Nina said, her hand moving up to caress his cheek.

Her touch was as gentle as a summer breeze, and yet it held the promise of a tempest that could sweep him off his feet.

“Sometimes, all it takes is a little push in the right direction.”

Her fingers traced the contours of his face, and he found himself leaning into her touch, craving more. The warmth of her skin against his sent a shiver down his spine, and he knew that he was on the precipice of something he couldn’t quite name.

“I understand your wife’s concerns, Bill,” Nina continued, her voice a velvet purr, “But the truth is, we’re all here to serve the greater good. The XP Corporation has a vision for this town, and we all have our part to play.”

Bill swallowed hard, his thoughts racing. He knew that Nina was right, that Stepford was a place of order and perfection, a place where everyone knew their place. And yet, the nagging voice of his conscience whispered that there was something not quite right about it all.

But Nina’s touch was like a balm to his doubt. Her fingers played with the collar of his shirt, and he felt his resolve slipping away, like sand through an hourglass.

“You’re working so hard,” she murmured.

Her hand sliding down to rest on his chest.

“Don’t you deserve a little appreciation, a little outlet that someone recognizes what you sacrifice”?

Bill felt his heart race, his mind torn between the comfort of Nina’s touch and the guilt that clawed at him from within. Her hand moved in slow circles, and the warmth spread through him like wildfire, burning away his resolve. He knew he should stop her, but his body seemed to have a will of its own.

“I …uh …. umm … I am a married man Nina and I father of two,” Bill said in a breathless wonder.

“So what?” whispered Nina as she leaned closer to Bill, her breath tickling his ear, “Sometimes, a man needs to remember, what he’s fighting for.”

Bill felt his resolve crumbling like the cookie crumbs scattered on the kitchen counter at home, a silent reminder of the battles he waged with his sweet tooth. Nina’s hand slid lower, tracing the line of his waistband, and he realized he was holding his breath. The office around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in a cocoon of desire and temptation.

Her hand slipped beneath his shirt, her fingertips brushing against his skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He should have stopped her, but his body was screaming for more. The way she moved, the way she talked, it was all so … tempting.

“You know, Bill,” she purred, her eyes locked onto his, “Mr Percival has a special program for wives like Steph.”

The mention of his wife’s name brought him back to reality, but only for a moment. He felt Nina’s hand slip even lower, her fingers teasing the button of his pants.

“What … what do you mean?” he managed to stutter.

Nina’s smile was like a serpent’s, alluring and dangerous.

“A little … makeover,” she said, her voice dropping to a seductive murmur, “To help her fit in, to be a better mother and appreciate what her man like the rest of us.”

The thought of Steph, his Steph, with the same vacant smile and over-exaggerated features as the other women in Stepford sent a chill down his spine. But the warmth of Nina’s touch was too much to resist.

“But … but she’s not like that,” he protested weakly.

“I know she is being an ungrateful bitch,” Nina undoing her blouse her skirt just barely covering her thighs, “But trust me, it’s all for the best.”

Bill’s eyes darted to Nina’s chest, the swell of her breasts spilling out of her lacy bra. He felt a twinge of guilt at her words, but the seductive sway of her hips as she moved closer to him was too much to resist. The warmth of her hand on his cheek was like a brand, searing away the last of his willpower.

“Mr Percival,” she continued, her voice a hypnotic purr, “He knows what’s best for everyone in Stepford. And sometimes,” she leaned closer, her breath hot against his ear, “That means making changes.”

Her hand slid down his chest, her nails digging into his skin as she unbuckled his belt. He gasped, his mind racing with thoughts of his family, his home, his life. But Nina’s touch was drawing him deeper into the abyss.

“Changes for the greater good,” she murmured, her fingers tracing the outline of his erection through his pants, ”Changes that will make her see what she’s been missing.”

“… Oh … the greater good …” Bill repeated as his hands squeezed Nina’s massive tits like they were the last lifeline in a drowning sea of temptation.

His eyes were glazed over, his mind racing with a cocktail of lust and doubt. He had always been a man of principle, but the allure of Nina’s beauty and the honey-covered words were too great to resist.

Her fingers deftly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a chest that was a testament to his recent gym membership. Nina leaned in, her breath hot and sweet against his neck.

“You’re doing so well, Bill,” she whispered, her voice a siren’s song that seemed to drown out the last vestiges of his moral compass, “Just relax and let me show you what you’ve been missing.”

Her hands moved down to his waistband, her fingertips dancing against his skin. His breath came in short gasps as she unzipped his pants, her eyes never leaving his. He felt the coolness of the air against his arousal and realized with a start that she had freed him from his confines.

Nina’s eyes widened with feigned surprise, her mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as she took in the sight of him.

“My, my,” she murmured, her hand closing around him, “You’re quite the man, aren’t you?”

The touch sent waves of pleasure crashing through him, his resolve crumbling like a sandcastle under the relentless tide of desire. He leaned back in the chair, his eyes rolling back in his head as she stroked him with a practiced hand.

“I bet your bitch wife will never suck cock as good as I will,” Nina whispered into Bill’s ear, her tongue flicking out to trace the shell of his ear, sending shivers down his spine, “But she can learn, Bill, she can learn to be a good little slut, just like me.”

Her hand pumped him harder, her grip firm and sure, her touch both thrilling and terrifying. Bill’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, torn between the love he had for his wife and the primal urges that Nina had so expertly unleashed within him. But the more she talked, the more he found himself nodding along, the words slipping into his mind like a snake slithering into a dark crevice.

“Bill ask me to suck your cock baby.”

Nina’s voice was a purr, a siren’s call that he could no longer resist. His thoughts swam in a sea of confusion and need, his body responding to her touch with an urgency that was both terrifying and exhilarating. With a shaky nod, Bill felt Nina’s warm, wet mouth engulf him, her tongue dancing around his shaft with a skill that made him moan with pleasure.

Her eyes never left him, and he could see the triumph in them as she worked her magic, her hands massaging his thighs, her fingers digging into his flesh as she took him deeper. The room around them was a blur, the only focus being the woman kneeling before him, her eyes gleaming with an unholy hunger.

Bill’s hands found their way to her hair, gripping tightly as he lost himself in the sensation. He had never felt anything like this before, the power and the lust, the feeling of being consumed by a force greater than himself. Nina’s mouth was a vice, a heavenly prison that he never wanted to escape from.

As she sucked him off, her hand slipped up to cup his balls, her nails digging in gently, sending jolts of pleasure through him. He groaned, his hips bucking as she swallowed him down, her throat constricting around him. The saliva ran down her chin, and she giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You like that, don’t you?” she asked, her voice thick with desire, ”Do I suck better than bitch wife?”

Bill’s eyes snapped open at the mention of Steph. It was as if a cold splash of water had brought him back to reality, the guilt of his infidelity crashing over him like a tidal wave.

“No, no, it’s not like that,” he protested weakly, his voice strained.

Nina’s grip tightened, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“But Bill,” she said, her voice a seductive purr, “Don’t you want to be the best man you can be? For your family, for Stepford?”

He looked at her, the room spinning around him as he tried to understand the twisted logic of her words. But the feel of her mouth on him was too intense, too overwhelming to resist. He nodded, his eyes glazed over with lust.

“Then if you want to be the best you can be call your wife a bitch,” Nina said, her voice as sweet as honey but as sharp as a knife.

Bill’s hand stilled in her hair, and he looked down at her, his eyes widening.

“What did you just say?”

Nina pulled away, her smile never wavering.

“You heard me, Bill,” she said, her tone playful but firm, “Call her a bitch. It’s what she is, isn’t she? Always complaining, always holding you back.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He had never spoken to Steph like that, never even thought of her in such a way. But there was something about the way Nina said it, something that made it sound so … right.

“But she’s not,” he protested, his voice weak, “She’s just … she’s just confused.”

Nina leaned back, her massive breasts heaving with each breath.

“Confused? Or just a stubborn bitch?” she asked, her eyes challenging him.

The word hung in the air like a noose, and Bill found himself reaching for it.

“Fine,” he said, his voice gruff, “She’s a fucking stuck-up bitch!”

The moment the words left his lips, he felt a strange sense of relief, as if he had just confessed a dark secret he had been carrying for years. Nina’s smile grew wider, and she leaned in to kiss him, her lips soft and demanding. He responded, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her closer.

“Say it again Bill,” Nina whispered into his ear, her breath hot and demanding, “Say it like you mean it.”

Bill swallowed hard, the taste of his betrayal bitter on his tongue.

“My wife is a goddam fucking annoying bitch,” he murmured, the words feeling foreign and wrong as they slipped out.

Nina’s smile grew wider, her eyes gleaming with triumph.

“That’s it,” she purred, her hand stroking his cheek, “Now tell me, don’t you feel better? Like a weight has been lifted?”

Bill nodded, the guilt already beginning to give way to a strange sense of liberation. Nina leaned in closer, her breasts pressing against him, the scent of her perfume intoxicating. He felt his resolve crumbling like the cookie crumbs scattered on the kitchen counter at home, a silent reminder of the battles he waged with his sweet tooth.

Her hand slid back down to his crotch, her grip firm and sure.

“Good boy,” she said, her voice a seductive purr, “Now, let me show you what a good little slut your wife could be.”

“Nina please let me fuck your pussy,” Bill whispered, his voice hoarse with need.

His eyes searched hers for any sign of rejection but instead found only a smoldering desire that mirrored his own. The office was a blur around them, the only reality was the warmth of her hand around him and the heat of her breath on his neck.

Nina’s smile grew wider, revealing a set of perfectly straight teeth that gleamed in the artificial light of the office.

“Oh, Bill,” she murmured, her voice a sweet symphony of seduction, “You’re such a good boy for asking.”

Her hand slid away, leaving him feeling momentarily exposed and lost. But before he could react, she was standing up, her skirt riding up to expose the lacy tops of her thigh-high stockings. She turned to face him, her hips swaying hypnotically.

“But first,” she said, her voice dripping with the promise of something dark and delicious, “You need to know the real me, baby”.

With a dramatic flourish, Nina pulled down her stockings and panties, revealing an unexpected and monstrous surprise. Bill’s eyes widened in shock as he stared at the massive, eight-inch trans-bimbo cock that jettisoned out from her previously hidden manhood. His mind reeled as the implications of Nina’s true form settled upon him like a dark cloud of realization.

“Oh fuck!” whispered Bill to himself, so lost in lust and his own world he stared as his cock got harder than ever before.

He had never seen anything like it, the way the light danced off Nina’s monstrous cock, the sheer size of it, the way it curved slightly to the left. He knew it was wrong, knew it was fucked up but the way Nina looked at him, the power she had over him, the way she had just called his wife a bitch, it was all too much to resist.

Nina strutted closer, her cock bobbing with each step, a silent declaration of dominance. Bill felt his own cock throb, his mind racing with thoughts that were both terrifying and exhilarating. The room was thick with a tension that seemed to coil around them like a living thing, tightening its grip with each passing second. He could feel the heat of her, the raw power of the transformation that had been wrought upon her, and it was intoxicating.

“You like what you see, don’t you, Bill?” she asked — her voice a sweet caress that sent shivers down his spine.

He couldn’t deny it. The sight of Nina’s massive cock, so out of place on her otherwise feminine frame, was a dark fascination that held him in thrall.

“I … I don’t know what to say,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

Nina chuckled, a sound that was both delighted and predatory.

“You don’t have to say anything, baby,” she said, her hand reaching out to stroke his cheek, “Just enjoy fucking my massive trans-bimbo futa cock.”

Bill felt his resolve shatter like a fine china plate under the weight of a sledgehammer. The words she spoke were like a spell, casting him into a trance of desire that he could not resist. He stood, his legs unsteady, and walked towards her, his eyes never leaving her cock. It was a thing of dark beauty, a monstrosity that called to him with a siren’s song.

With a grace that belied her bulk, Nina climbed onto her oak desk, her skirt riding up to reveal her thick feminine thighs. She spread her legs, the fabric of her skirt brushing against his thighs as he approached. The room was filled with the scent of her arousal, a musky perfume that made his head swim with desire. He couldn’t believe what he was about to do, but the allure of Nina’s monstrous beauty was too much to resist.

Her cock stood proud, a beacon of her transformation, and Bill found himself drawn to it like a moth to a flame. He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering over the velvety skin, feeling the heat of it pulse beneath his fingertips.

“Go ahead!” Nina urged — her voice a whisper of temptation, “Touch it. Show me you want it!”

With trembling hands, Bill wrapped his fingers around her cock, feeling the veins throb with life beneath his touch. It was warm, almost hot, and the skin was as smooth as marble. He stroked it lightly, watching in amazement as it grew even larger, a darker shade of pink that seemed to glow in the dim light of the office.

Nina’s eyes closed, a moan of pleasure escaping her lips.

“That’s it,” she murmured, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders, “Show me what you’ve got, Bill.”

He leaned in, his mouth watering as he took the head of her cock into his mouth. It was salty and sweet, a flavor that was both familiar and alien. He felt a strange thrill of excitement as he began to suck, her hand guiding him, showing him the rhythm she liked. His own cock throbbed in his pants, straining against the fabric, demanding release.

Nina’s moans grew louder, her hips bucking as he worked her cock with an enthusiasm he had never felt before. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, a chaotic mix of disgust and desire, of love for his wife and the burning need to please this creature before him.

“That’s it,” she hissed, her eyes snapping open to meet his, “Take it all, Bill. Take it like a good little slut.”

The words sent a jolt of electricity through him, and he obeyed, swallowing her length until he could feel the tip of her cock at the back of his throat. She tasted of power and corruption, a heady mix that had him hooked. He sucked harder, his tongue dancing around the head as his hand stroked the shaft.

Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, guiding him faster.

“You like it, don’t you?” she gasped, her voice a symphony of lust, “You like being a slut for me, don’t you?”

Bill couldn’t answer, his mouth too full of her cock. But he nodded, his eyes never leaving hers, his mind racing with images of what was to come.

With a grin, Nina pulled him to his feet, her own cock glistening with his saliva. She turned him around, pushing him down onto the desk, his legs trembling. He could feel the heat of her, the wetness of her pussy, and the solidness of her cock as it pressed against his ass.

“Now, Bill,” she whispered into his ear, her breath hot and moist, “It’s your turn to get a taste of the real Stepford.”

His cock, bobbing in the air like a divining rod seeking water in a desert of lust. Nina’s eyes widened at the sight, and she licked her lips hungrily.

“You’re so eager,” she said, her voice a purr, “So eager to be a part of us.”

Bill felt a thrill run through him, his body responding despite his racing thoughts. Nina’s touch was like a drug, a powerful substance that clouded his mind and made his body crave more. He could feel his resolve slipping away, like sand through his fingers, as she guided him closer to the edge of something dark and seductive.

She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a small bottle of lubricant, the clear gel shimmering in the soft light.

“This will make it easier,” she said with a wink, squeezing a generous amount onto her cock.

She rubbed it in, her hand moving in slow, sensual circles that had Bill’s own cock pulsing with anticipation. With a flick of her wrist, she spread his cheeks apart, and the cold, wet tip of her cock touched his asshole. He tensed, unsure if he was ready for what was about to happen. But Nina was insistent, her grip on his hips firm as she began to push.

The pain was sharp at first, a white-hot knife slicing through him. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, his knuckles going white on the edge of the desk. Nina’s cock was a relentless force, pushing into him, filling him in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating. He could feel the head of it stretching him open, the thickness of it making him feel impossibly small.

“Relax, baby,” she murmured, her voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves, “Just let it in.”

Her words were a command, and Bill found his body obeying despite the screaming protests of his mind. He took a deep breath and let his muscles go slack, the pressure easing slightly as she pushed deeper. The pain began to give way to a strange, full sensation, a feeling of being claimed, of being transformed.

Nina’s hand found his own cock, stroking it gently as she began to thrust in and out of him. The friction was maddening, sending waves of pleasure crashing through his body. He couldn’t believe he was letting this happen, that he was letting Nina, this creature of Mr Percival’s twisted creation, fuck him. But the more she pushed into him, the more he found himself wanting it, craving the feeling of being filled.

With every stroke, Nina whispered sweet nothings in his ear, a constant stream of praise and encouragement that had him panting and moaning.

“That’s it,” she cooed — her voice a siren’s call that he couldn’t resist, “You’re doing so well, Bill. You’re going to make a perfect little bimbo slut for me.”

The words sent a shiver down his spine, but he found himself pushing back into her, his hips moving in time with her rhythm. He could feel himself losing control, his body responding to her touch in ways it never had before.

The room was a blur of shadows and light, the only sounds were their muffled gasps and the slick, wet sounds of Nina’s cock sliding in and out of him. The air was thick with the scent of sex and something darker, something that seemed to coil around him like a living thing.

Nina’s strokes grew faster, more urgent.

“You like it, don’t you?” she asked, her voice a breathy pant, “You like being my little slut?”

Bill nodded, the word slipping from his lips without thought.

“Yes,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “I like it.”

Her grip tightened on his hips, her thrusts growing deeper, more forceful. He could feel her cock hitting something inside him, a spot that made his vision swim with pleasure. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, a mix of pain and ecstasy that had him teetering on the edge of sanity.

“Look at you,” she said, her voice filled with a dark amusement, “You’re going to love the new you, Bill.”

He didn’t understand what she meant, but he found himself nodding again, his body a slave to her whims. She leaned over him, her massive breasts pressing into his back as she whispered into his ear.

“You’re going to love it when I make you into my little bimbo boy toy,” she said, her breath hot against his skin, “You’re going to love the way the other bimbo moms look at you, the way they want you. You’re going to love being a slut for me, for Mr Percival, for the entire town of Stepford.”

The side door to Nina’s office opens, and a man in a three-piece suit and cigar walks into the office.

“Ah Nina, right on schedule, I see.”

The sound of the door clicking shut behind him echoed through the room, and Bill’s heart skipped a beat as he recognized the voice. He didn’t dare to look up from his position bent over the desk, Nina’s cock still buried deep within him. The scent of Mr Percival’s cigar filled the room, mingling with the heady aroma of lust that had taken over the space.

Mr Percival approached, his footsteps measured and deliberate. He leaned against the edge of the desk, his eyes glinting with a dark amusement as he took in the sight before him. Bill felt a bead of sweat roll down his spine, the weight of the town leader’s gaze like a physical touch.

“I’m so pleased to see that you’re enjoying your orientation, Mr Harper,” Mr Percival said, his voice a rich purr, “Nina is quite the … instructor, isn’t she?”

Bill couldn’t bring himself to speak, his mouth too busy with the task at hand. He nodded, his eyes never leaving the floor.

Mr Percival chuckled, his eyes traveling from Bill’s sweat-drenched face to the monstrous cock that filled him.

“Nina,” he said, his voice a gentle command, “Ms Nina I didn’t say stop his orientation,” he chuckled again, his eyes gleaming with a dark delight.

Nina smirked and picked up the pace, her hips moving with a vigor that sent waves of pleasure crashing through Bill’s body. The sound of their flesh slapping together filled the room, punctuating the silence that had descended like a velvet shroud.

Mr Percival sat down in Nina’s leather-covered chair directly opposite the desk Bill was getting his ass fucked on, his gaze lingering on the obscene sight of the trans-bimbo’s thick, veiny cock pumping in and out of Bill’s tight, previously straight, asshole. He took a puff of his cigar, the smoke swirling around the room like a fog of temptation.

“Bill,” Mr Percival began, his voice a smooth blend of honey and steel, “If you could eliminate poverty, crime, and hunger and provide clothes, healthcare, education and shelter for all would you create that paradise?”

Bill was unable to answer only letting out a slight moan as Nina fucked him, Mr Percival’s question hung in the air like a dark cloud, thick with the promise of something more sinister than the depraved act playing out before him. The cigar smoke curled around them like a serpent, a silent observer of the corruption unfolding within the walls of the school.

Nina’s hips continued to piston into Bill’s ass, her eyes locked on Mr Percival’s, the two of them sharing a knowing smile.

“You see, Bill,” she said, her breaths coming in short gasps, “Until me, no one had the tenacity or courage or ambition to create such a paradise.”

“Let me be clear I am still creating it! Stepford will be a utopia!” Mr Percival said, his eyes gleaming with the pride of a mad artist surveying his masterpiece, “But it requires … certain sacrifices. The purity of the town is paramount.”

Bill’s eyes flickered up to meet Mr Percival’s, his face a mask of pain and pleasure as Nina’s cock plunged deeper into him. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of temptation, unable to find the surface.

“What sacrifices?” he managed to croak out.

Mr Percival took another puff of his cigar, the tip glowing like the ember of a dying star.

“Ah, the sacrifices,” he said, his voice a velvet whisper, ”Conformity, Mr Harper. Conforming to the right community attitudes, the right system of belief that encourages personal growth, Mr Harper I am a simple man with a simple dream, it took me years to realize that all the evils in this world … well,” Mr Percival chuckled, “Well some evils are not evil at all and are just human nature, natural reactions to biology. That’s when it hit me, that we can never have a peaceful society if we deny ourselves certain pleasures, it is unhealthy to do so as well. Depression, mental health and anxiety are rife with people denying themselves primal instincts.”

Bill felt Nina’s grip on his hips tighten, her thrusts growing more urgent. She was close, he could feel it. But he was also aware of Mr Percival’s eyes on him, watching him with a cold, calculating gaze that sent a shiver down his spine.

“In Stepford, we embrace those instincts,” Mr Percival continued, his voice a sultry purr, “We transform the mundane into the extraordinary, the average into the ideal. We create a world where everyone has a place, where everyone is happy and fulfilled.”

The words seemed to hang in the air, a seductive promise that whispered of a world without pain or want. But Bill couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something fundamentally wrong with the picture being painted.

“You see,” Mr Percival said, leaning forward in his chair, “The trans-bimbofication process is a way of freeing the mind, of removing the shackles of societal norms that hold us back. It’s about embracing who you truly are, deep down, underneath all the layers of conditioning.”

Bill felt a drop of cold sweat roll down his back as he struggled to keep his focus. He had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable.

“And the children, Mr Harper,” Mr Percival said, his eyes gleaming with an eerie light, “They are the future of Stepford. We must mold them early before their minds are tainted by the outside world. Coach Tyrone is quite the … educator.”

The mention of Allison’s coach had Bill’s heart racing.

Nina’s hand reached around, her fingers wrapping around Bill’s cock, which was now rock-hard and leaking pre-cum onto the desk.

“You’re going to love it,” she murmured, her breath hot against his ear, “You’re going to love being part of the new world order, Bill.”

Her words seemed to resonate with something deep within him, something that had been buried under layers of fear and doubt. He didn’t know if it was the pleasure or the power of suggestion, but he found himself nodding, a strange feeling of acceptance washing over him.

“Bill just think about the perfect family, the perfect life, the perfect job, the perfect you!” Mr Percival’s words washed over Bill.

Nina’s cock continued to pound into him, the rhythm of their depraved dance echoing through the room like a drumbeat of temptation.

“Imagine a world,” Mr Percival said, his eyes never leaving Bill’s face, “Where your every need is met, where you’re not just accepted, but revered for who you are.”

Bill’s vision swam with images of Stepford, the town’s pristine streets and gleaming buildings, the trans-bimbo women with their vacant smiles and impossibly large breasts. It was a place where he had felt both welcome and out of place, a place that now promised him something he hadn’t even known he wanted.

“Now not everyone goes through the bimbofication process,” Mr Percival continued, his voice low and mesmerizing, “It’s a gift, that I exclusively reward my truest of followers, Bill. Nina was a young college graduate called Greg before she came to Stepford, lost, hopeless and depressed now look at her she has a vision of perfection.”

Mr Percival gestured to Nina with a flourish of his hand, the cigar smoke swirling around his fingers like a dark mist. Nina pulled out with a wet pop, her cock glistening with Bill’s juices. She gave it a playful slap before tucking it back into her tight skirt.

“Thank you, Nina,” Mr Percival said with a smile, “Your dedication to our cause never ceases to amaze me.”

Nina beamed, her oversized tits jiggling with the movement.

“It’s my pleasure, Mr Percival,” she replied, her voice a syrupy drawl.

“Now, Bill,” Mr Percival took out his cock, thick and engorged with excitement, “You’re going to be a good company slut for me? Dedicate yourself to the ideals of Stepford. Help yourself create the perfect family.”

Bill nodded, feeling the weight of his decision. He looked into Mr Percival’s eyes and took a deep breath before leaning forward. His mouth opened, and he took the head of the old man’s cock into his mouth. The taste was unfamiliar, yet somehow enticing. He felt a strange sense of belonging as he began to suck, the feeling of the cock against his tongue and the sound of Mr Percival’s satisfied groans filling his ears.

Mr Percival’s hand found its way to Bill’s hair, guiding him with a gentle yet firm touch. Bill felt a thrill of submission run through him, his own cock growing harder as he serviced the town’s leader. Nina watched with a knowing smile, her hand absentmindedly playing with one of her massive, silicon breasts.

The room was filled with the sounds of Bill’s slurping and Mr Percival’s increasingly urgent grunts. It was as if the very walls of the office were absorbing their depraved actions, holding them in a bubble of perverse intimacy.

As Bill’s head bobbed up and down, Mr Percival’s grip on his hair tightened, pulling him closer, deeper onto his cock.

“Good, good Bill — Bill as your first test of loyalty to me, I need you to convince your wife to let your son spend a few weekends at mine.”

Mr Percival’s words hung in the air, thick with the scent of his cigar and the unspoken promise of what was to come. Bill felt a cold shiver run down his spine, but the grip on Mr Percival’s cock in his mouth was firm, his tongue flicking over the velvety head, tasting the salty precursor of what he knew was to come. The implications of the request were clear.

Bill stopped mid-suck.

”Just to mentor him right?”Mr Percival’s eyes narrowed, his smile never wavering, “Mentor him, yes. But in more ways than one.”

Bill felt his throat constrict around the cock in his mouth as he tried to comprehend what was being suggested. Hi didn’t want to admit the truth about what ‘mentoring’ meant he began to suck harder in denial, hoping to push the thought away.

“It won’t be easy convincing Steph,” Bill mumbled around Mr Percival’s cock, his voice muffled but earnest.

Mr Percival leaned back in the chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

“Ah, the fair Steph,” he murmured, “Such a principled woman. So resistant to change. What could be a thorn in my side.”

“I can get a therapist’s note suggesting that David spend time with an outside influence or get his teacher to speak to your wife saying David is playing up, but I need you to get lock in Steph’s blessing. For my mentorship to be fully effective David needs to be reassured there is no reason not to trust me, if your bitch wife whispers poison about me in your son’s ear it will make things … difficult. I hate to think what I might need to resort to mentor your son,” Mr Percival’s tone was dark.

“I can try Mr Percival!”

Bill’s voice was thick with submission as he pulled away from Mr Percival’s cock, a string of saliva connecting them for a brief moment before snapping away.

“Good little slut Bill, but when we are alone you no longer call Mr Percival. But you call me Master!”

Bill’s eyes widened, a mix of fear and excitement dancing within them. He nodded vigorously, his cheeks flushed with a mix of arousal and humiliation.

The words stuck in his throat, but he managed to croak out, “Yes … Master.”

Mr Percival leaned back in his chair, a self-satisfied smile playing across his lips. He took a long draw from his cigar, the tip burning a bright orange in the dim light of the office. He exhaled a cloud of smoke that swirled around the room, a silent testament to his power and control.

“Good,” Mr Percival said, his voice a purr of satisfaction, “Now, let’s discuss the details of your new role.”

Bill’s mind raced, trying to piece together what exactly that meant. Would he be required to perform these acts again? Would it involve his family? His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Nina’s high, but-heeled footsteps approaching. He managed She leaned against the desk to squeak, her massive breasts straining against out.

”Yes, Master.”

Mr Percival and Nina fucked Bill for at least another hour.

Bill drove home his mind racing, unsure how to comprehend what just happened. The leather of the steering wheel was sticky with sweat under his grip. He had never felt so used and degraded….horned up. As the car pulled into the driveway, the headlights swept across the pristine lawn, the white picket fence standing tall in the darkness like a sentinel to the hell he’d just left behind. The house looked the same as it had when he’d left, but he knew it would never feel the same again.

Steph was waiting for him in the living room, the television playing some inane reality show that she used to distract herself from the eerie silence of the town. She looked up as he entered, the question in her eyes unspoken but palpable.

“How was the meeting?” she asked, her voice a tentative thread.

“it was fine dear I am tired I am off to bed,” Bill’s voice was strained, the words sticking to his tongue like bile. He couldn’t bear to look at her, couldn’t bear to see the trust in her eyes and know what he had just done. He made his way to the bedroom, each step feeling heavier than the last, his mind reeling with the events of the night.

The bedroom was a sanctuary of marital bliss, but now it felt like a prison cell, the walls closing in on him, suffocating him with guilt and disgust. He stripped off his clothes, throwing them into the hamper as if they were soiled with the very essence of Mr Percival’s depravity.

His body was sticky with sweat and cum, a testament to his betrayal. He stumbled into the shower, the hot water scalding his skin, but it couldn’t wash away the memory of Mr Percival’s hands on him, Nina’s cock inside him, the taste of his cigar-laced semen still coating his mouth.

He scrubbed himself until his skin was raw, trying to purge the feeling of their touch from every pore. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape the cold reality of what he had become. A pawn in a twisted game, a man who had sold his soul for the promise of a perfect life.

He climbed into bed, his body aching, his mind racing. He tried to close his eyes, to find refuge in the oblivion of sleep, but all he saw was the gleaming office, the leather chair that had held him captive, the gleaming chrome of Mr Percival’s desk. The image of Nina’s massive, silicone breasts bouncing as she fucked him played on an endless loop in his mind, her eyes filled with a hunger that was both terrifying and intoxicating.

The house was quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the central air conditioning. But in the silence, Bill could hear the whispers of his conscience, the voice of the man he had been before Stepford, the man who had loved and cherished his family above all else.

He turned to his side, his back to Steph, and stared at the wall. The shadows danced in the moonlight, casting eerie patterns that seemed to mock him. He knew he had to tell her, had to confess his sins and beg for her forgiveness. But the words remained lodged in his throat, a lump that threatened to choke him.

The more he thought about Mr Percival’s cock and Nina fucking his ass his cock got hard again, Bill couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of arousal mingled with guilt and fear. It was as if a part of him was relishing the idea of being a part of something darker, something that went against everything he had ever believed in. But he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the task at hand: convincing Steph to let David spend weekends with Mr Percival.

The next morning, Bill waited until the kids had left for school before broaching the subject with his wife. He found her in the kitchen, her eyes red-rimmed from a sleepless night, a testament to the stress that had been building within her.

“Steph, we need to talk,” he said, his voice heavy with the weight of his secret.

She turned to him, her expression a mix of weariness and concern.

“What is it, Bill?”

He took a deep breath, his heart racing.

“It’s about David, and Mr Percival’s offer to mentor him.”

Steph paused, the spatula hovering over the sizzling eggs. She turned to face him, her expression a storm of suspicion and anger.

“What do you mean?”

Bill tried to keep his voice steady, his eyes avoiding hers.

“Mr Percival said that time he was over he wants to help David fit in, you know, with the other kids. Mr Percival said it is most effective to have him stay at his place on some weekends. He says it’s part of the mentorship.”

Steph’s hand tightened on the spatula.

“Bill, you can’t be serious,” she said, her voice a low murmur of disbelief, “You want our son to spend weekends with a stranger he has met once?”

Bill took a tentative step forward, his eyes pleading.

“He’s not just a stranger, Steph. He’s the president of XP Corp, the man who practically owns this town. If he takes an interest in David, it could mean so much for his future here.”

Steph’s gaze hardened.

“I don’t like it,” she said, shaking her head, “There’s something about that man that gives me the creeps.”

Bill’s eyes darted around the room, avoiding hers.

“He’s just … intense, that’s all. He’s passionate about the community.”

Steph turned back to the eggs, the sizzling a harsh counterpoint to the silence between them.

“And what does he want in return?”

“He wants nothing from us but the chance for a better life.”

Bill’s words hung in the air, a desperate attempt to convince Steph of Mr Percival’s benevolence. She stared at the frying pan, the eggs now a crispy mess of yolk and white, the once nourishing meal now a symbol of the burnt bridges she feared lay ahead.

Steph’s grip tightened on the spatula. She took a deep breath, thinking about the argument they had had the night before.

“Fine David I trust you,” she said, her voice tight, “But promise me you’ll keep an eye on him.”

Bill nodded, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

“I promise,” he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek, “It’s for his own good, you’ll see.”

He could feel the tension in the room as he left for work, the unspoken words hanging in the air like a noxious cloud. The drive to the XP Corp offices was a blur, his mind racing with thoughts of what was to come. The gleaming tower stood tall in the center of town, a monolith of corporate power and the source of all that was Stepford.

The lobby was as he remembered it from the interview, a cacophony of chrome and glass that reflected the artificial beauty of the town’s residents. The receptionist, a busty trans bimbo with a vacant smile, waved him through with a giggle, her massive breasts bouncing with every movement.

Bill took the elevator up to Mr Percival’s office, the walls closing in around him with every floor. The doors opened, and he stepped into the opulent space, his heart racing. The scent of Mr Percival’s cigar hung in the air, a constant reminder of the man’s presence.

Mr Percival was seated behind his desk, Linda from HR was bent over moaning like a whore as he fucked her from behind. She was dressed in a tight pencil skirt and her button-up shirt with a plunging neckline ripped open that showcased her massive bountiful tits. Bill had to force his eyes away, his mind reeling from the sight of his colleague being used so blatantly.

“Ah, Bill,” Mr Percival said, not bothering to stop his thrusts, “Good of you to join us. Linda was just going over an HR matter with me,” he chuckled darkly as he slapped Linda’s plump ass.

Bill swallowed hard, his eyes flicking from Linda’s glazed expression to Mr Percival’s intense gaze.

“Steph has agreed,” he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mr Percival’s smile widened, his teeth gleaming in the office’s soft lighting.

“Excellent,” he murmured, his hips pumping into Linda with renewed vigor, “Your loyalty does not go unnoticed.”

The woman moaned louder, her eyes rolling back in her head as she reached a climax. Mr Percival’s grip on her hips tightened, and he pulled out with a wet sound, his cock glistening with her juices. He waved a hand dismissively, and Linda stumbled away, her skirt still around her waist, her breasts bobbing with every unsteady step. She didn’t bother to fix herself, the transformation of the townsfolk’s modesty long completed.

“Now, Bill actually while your here if it isnt to inconvenient could you clean my cock with your mouth, a lot of appointments today and I need it to be pristine, I want to make a good impression,” Mr Percival said as he waved his dick casually in Bill’s direction.

“Yes, Master.”

Bill dropped to his knees and took Mr Percival’s still-hard cock into his mouth, his eyes watering slightly as he worked to clean the cum off it. His mind was in a daze, trying to process what had just occurred. The taste of Linda’s pussy juice on the old man’s cock was surprisingly sweet, a stark contrast to the bitter taste of his humiliation.

Mr Percival leaned back in his chair, watching Bill with a mix of amusement and satisfaction.

“Good boy,” he said, stroking Bill’s hair as he cleaned his cock with eager, if not enthusiastic, strokes of his tongue, ”You’re learning quickly.”

The words sent a shiver down Bill’s spine, but he didn’t dare stop. He knew that his fate and that of his family was in the hands of this powerful man. He had to do everything in his power to please him, no matter how degrading it felt.

Once Mr Percival’s cock was clean, Bill pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He struggled to meet the man’s gaze, his eyes downcast.

“Now, tell me about your little chat with Mrs Harper,” Mr Percival said, his voice smooth as silk.

Bill took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves.

“She … she agreed,” he said, his voice trembling slightly, “David can spend weekends with you.”

Mr Percival’s smile grew even wider if that was possible.

“Excellent,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “I knew you’d see things my way. It is what is best for your family, after all.”

His voice was a smooth caress that seemed to stroke the very fabric of the air, leaving Bill feeling both repulsed and strangely comforted.

“Now, let’s discuss the particulars of David’s mentorship,” Mr Percival said, his eyes gleaming with an almost predatory excitement, “I believe that for this to be truly effective, he should spend not just weekends, but also a few afternoons during the week with me.”

Bill’s heart skipped a beat. He knew he was venturing into dangerous territory, but he had made his deal with the devil, and there was no turning back now.

“I’ll … I’ll talk to Steph about it,” he said, his voice a mere whisper.

Mr Percival nodded, his expression unreadable.

“Oh, no need for that, Bill, the school will inform your wife that your son has stayed back and detention and extracurriculars. We must keep this between us. I wouldn’t want to burden her with unnecessary details.”

He leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin.”

“As you know,” Mr Percival continued, his eyes glinting with a sinister excitement, “Stepford has a unique way of bringing out the best in people. We have certain … procedures, that can help your son become one of us.”

Mr Percival stood up and moved to the bookshelf, his back to Bill.

“They will help him fit in, to become the kind of young man that Stepford needs. And in return, your family will enjoy all the benefits that this town has to offer.”

The silence stretched, the air thick with the unspoken truths that lay between them. Bill knew what Mr Percival was suggesting was wrong, but the allure of the town’s perfection was too strong to resist.

“Yes, Master.”

THE END OF CHAPTER ONE