Escape Route

I climbed inside the car, ready to flee. I looked down at my transformed body and sighed. I was wearing some elaborate and slutty lingerie that showcased my boobs and shapely legs. I adjusted the seat, getting closer to the now massive steering wheel. With my high-heeled shoes I revved the car and took a look around. The villa was quiet, nobody had noticed me going out. My escape plan was going perfectly, so far. 

Yet, I hesitated. 

Leaving would have meant going back to the real world. Where I would have to explain what happened to me, how I went from male stud to busty female after being lured into a trap in the guise of an all-paid vacation. Was I strong enough to face the anguish, the doubts, the mocking of resurfacing as a woman in my old life? What about the urges? My captors made clear that I was now a horny slut. What was I going to do once free? Fuck all my male friends? Just the thought was making me wet my panties, but how feasible it was?

Maybe I didn't think it really through. There was no way that people will take at face value that I was George Turnbull and I was thinking about running away with no documents, money or even clothes. Who would even believe my story?

Perhaps staying was a defeat, but it was safe. I was completely taken care of. I just had to think about looking pretty, shake my ass and get fucked by rich patrons. Maybe one of them would even choose me as his wife and anyway they promise me and the other they 'enhanced' (they referred to our changes as enhancement) to take us around the world. Meanwhile I was living in luxury and having a great time. This new body of mine was built for sex and everything felt out of this world.  

"Fuck...I can't leave," I whispered in my high-pitched voice.

I went out of the car and back inside. Nobody had even noticed me leaving. Not even ten minutes after my return, I was on four, getting fucked. As the patron kept on thrusting inside me, I realized that I made the best possible decision by staying.