This choice: A cheap prostitute in a motel room • Go Back...Chapter #5A cheap prostitute in a motel room by: Clockworange   Martin felt himself get slapped in the face.
"Wake up, bitch. I ain't got my full hour yet." A gruff voice grumbled above him. Martin blinked his eyes open, adjusting them to the dull, milky yellow light in a room wholly unfamiliar to him. Standing before him was a man in his mid-40s with a scraggly beard and a protruding gut. He stunk of stale beer and his eyes were bloodshot. He wore only a greasy white t-shirt, and Martin gasped when he saw the man's fully erect penis at attention.
The man heard Martin's gasp and chuckled. "It sure is big, isn't it?"
"What is going on here? Where am I?" Martin stammered, clutching his throat as he heard a gravelly female voice come out. He felt sharp nails digging into his throat with cold fingers attached to them. Why were they cold? And, more importantly, why was Martin shivering? He was lying in a hard bed inside what appeared to be a cheap motel room. There was a small television, a closet with no clothing, and a woman's plastic vinyl purse tossed on the floor next to the bed. The bedsheets were pulled back, and it was just him and the seedy man inside the room.
Martin's back felt much better, as if he had never injured it. His body seemed more lithe and sensitive to the touch, not carrying the baggage of age that he had been so used to enduring as of late. His body felt lighter. He was even more light-headed, shaking from more than the cold it seemed. His crotch felt itchy for some reason. Then, he looked down and shrieked! His fears were confirmed when he saw another person's body where his own should have been.
He didn't have any time to examine it closer, as the man in front of him began to lose his patience. "I fucking hate whores. Come on, I'm waiting. Get over here and suck my cock!"
Martin's eyes grew wide, understanding now what type of woman he found himself now resembling. He wanted to hurl. He wanted to go back asleep and pretend this was just a bizarre dream.
"Dumb, lazy skank. Fine. Spread your legs, I'm going to enjoy this even if you aren't."
The man climbed onto the bed and forced Martin's legs apart. The formerly old businessman saw his new breasts bounce wildly as the man flipped him over in bed. Martin was now on his hands and knees, looking down at the pillows such that long, blonde hair dangled into view. He pulled on the hair, still believing that the yanking feeling coming from his head was still part of some hyper-realistic lucid dream or something.
Suddenly, Martin felt the tip of the man's penis brush up against his... vagina? It was a horrid, electrifying feeling, and he couldn't help but let a quiet moan escape from his throat.
"You like that, don't you?" Chuckled the man. "Tell me how much you want it. Beg for me, bitch."
Martin didn't say anything, too terrified to move or respond to the contrary. What is happening? Why was he suddenly in the body of some strange woman being fucked by a gross man?
He yelped out in pain as the man began pushing his full length into him. Martin could feel the man's dick throbbing inside of him, filling him up in a moment as horrifying as it was erotic. His body responded of its own accord, clenching its vagina around the cock, trying to keep it inside. After penetrating him for the first time, the man withdrew and started pumping quickly.
Martin felt the woman's breasts bouncing against each other, causing a flapping sound to parallel that sound of the man's balls slapping against his ass. The man grabbed his hips and held him in place tightly, continuing to pump his disgusting cock inside of him. What was even more disturbing was the feeling of pleasure that her body was sending to Martin's mind. She was a whore, and she was loose enough to enjoy it.
Before long, the man thrust inside of Martin one last time. His cock gave a spasm, erupting forth a load of sticky white sperm inside the woman's vagina. Martin felt a warmth spreading inside him, feeling her cunt as it clamped down on the man's quickly deflating penis. He pulled out, not caring about letting some stains get on the bedding. He was breathing hard, the sweat trickling down his fat and unwashed face.
Martin remained in a doggy-style position, sobbing quietly as he felt the man's jism seeping out of his new vagina. While he did get some degree of (unwanted) pleasure from the act, he wasn't close to orgasm by the time the man ejaculated inside of him. He felt humiliated, exposed, and confused.
"What the fuck?" Murmured the man, pulling up his boxers which he had thrown on the floor. "Ungrateful bitch, you should be thanking me for such a great fucking. Are you still crying? You're worthless, I want my money back."
The man stepped into his jeans and shoes and walked over to the nightstand next to the bed. Snatching up a wad of bills, he put it in his pocket and looked over Martin's prostrate figure once again.
He licked his lips, wiped his forehead with his t-shirt, and chuckled. "But you do have some great tits and ass. Maybe we should do this again some time. See ya around." He turned and left the motel room. Martin heard the roar of a car engine outside the room, listening to rumbling of the vehicle until it faded away.
Martin swept the blonde hair out of his face, deciding to get up and examine his surroundings. Glad to be rid of the unpleasant man who had apparently been in the process of his 'transaction' when he awoke in the young prostitute's body.
Stumbling over to the bathroom, Martin grimaced as he felt the man's jism continue to leak out of his vagina onto the carpet of the motel room. He retrieved some tissues and wiped his privates as clean as he could. Still in shock to see a void with two fleshy lips where his penis should have been. His crotch began to itch again, and Martin scratched at the savage annoyance until the burning subsided once again.
Wiping the tears from his eyes, he looked blearily into the mirror. The woman was very young, in her early to mid-twenties. She had a mane of long blonde hair which tickled Martin's back and shoulders. Her body was thin, almost anorexic-looking, with a visible rib cage, thigh gap, and thin arms and legs. Nevertheless, her breasts seemed too round and full to be real, as Martin guessed that she must have had implants at some point in her short life. She might not have been 'turning tricks' for a long time, since she didn't have many tattoos, piercings, track marks, or bruises. Martin did notice that she had a nose piercing and a barbell on her tongue. She also had small tattoos on her back including a tramp stamp with the name "Apryl Pleasures" tattooed in italic lettering. Her fingernails were painted in alternating green and white. The nails were long but chipped as if they had not been cared for recently.
The woman's arms and legs were shaved smooth, and her vagina was trimmed in a 'landing strip' pattern above the labia. Her face was smooth, with cheekbones slightly visible, and her makeup looked old. In addition to implants, it appeared to Martin that her ass had received some surgical 'enhancements' as well, appearing too firm and curvy for such a skinny young woman. Her feet were small and petite. Martin shivered as he felt how cold the tiled floor of the bathroom was.
He walked back into the bedroom, sifting through the woman's vinyl purse to see what more he could find. Her name was, indeed, Apryl Pleasures, age 24, height 5'4'', weight 90 pounds. According to her driver's license, she lived in an apartment complex not too far away from here. Her face, which was now Martin's face, frowned back in the photo on the identification card.
He found a number of items inside Apryl's purse. Condoms. Lipstick and gloss. Loose change. Tampons. A cell phone. Makeup and nail polish. Birth control pills. And $17 in cash. No debit or credit cards. Martin sighed; a woman like Apryl probably couldn't establish good credit anywhere, much less a savings account at a bank.
On the floor was Apryl's bra and panties. They were both thin, black, and lacy, and the panties were almost see-through. Sighing, Martin found he had no choice but to put her underwear on for the time being. Finding it difficult to fasten the straps of her bra, hooking it through the clasps in the back after a few minutes of struggling. The panties slid up his thighs and rested snugly over his new snatch.
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He then looked at himself in the mirror with underwear on, his view obstructed by the long, blonde hair flayed over his face.
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Martin felt exhausted and wanted to go back to sleep. He found a bathrobe and put it on in an attempt to cover up. But a certain craving was occupying his mind and making him shake all over. It was stronger than the itchy sensation in his crotch, which had returned yet again with a passion. He searched through the purse until he found it: a half-empty pack of cigarettes. It made sense, considering why her purse and clothing smelled like that. For some reason, though, Martin couldn't smell it that well. Perhaps Apryl's nose was used to it?
"She smokes?" Martin asked himself. He had never smoked. Not even in the military when he was younger. But his new body evidently did. He slipped a cigarette out of its pack, retrieving a lighter and heading outside for a smoke. He didn't know how to hold the cigarette or the lighter, but her body was urging him on, jittery in anticipation of the smoke filling up her lungs for another time.
He stepped outside the room, still only wearing the woman's bra and panties and the bathrobe. Does anything significant happen at this time?
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