" ah... ah...suck it...suck my dick...suck it, you filthy...fucking...hardcore...slut...."
The Broker sits back in his chair, his head tilted up to the ceiling with a broad, satisfied grin on his face. A young woman scarely out of her teens is on her knees beneath the desk. She's dressed like a secretary, or at least a slutty interpretation of one - pair of shiny, needle-thin high heels are strapped to her feet, her legs are constrained within a pencil skirt that hugs her beautiful backside, and her tits spill out of a frilly cotton blouse. She has dark, red-brown skin and copper-coloured hair tied up in a bun, which bobs up and down as she works her plump lips up and down the Broker's shaft.
She moans softly but deeper than you'd expect, while her mouth makes wet, smacking noises. She looks like she's done this before.
"Aww yeah..." the Broker groans. "I'm draining your power. I'm sucking it all away. Now you're stuck in that slut body. Now you're stuck as my slut secretary forever."
The secretary removes her mouth from around his cock. When she speaks, her words sound as flat as if she's reading from a script, and have a distinctive accent. "No, master. Please. I do anything."
"Anything, eh?" the Broker cackles triumphantly. "In that case... bend over."
"Anything for you, master," she drones in a bored, monotone, dutifully bending herself over the desk. As the Broker pulls the skirt down over her hips, her eyes fall on you, going suddenly wide. "Hayir! Bırakmak! Stop! Stop!"
The Broker merely sees that as encouragement, enthusiastically plunging himself into her. She screams in frustration, trying to fight him off, but he merely holds onto her hips and rides. Then, suddenly, she changes. Her sultry face seems to slough off her skull into a collection of angry jowls. Her breasts are sucked back into her blouse as they deflate rapidly. Her skirt is torn to shreds as her slender legs swell to become muscular and hairy. A large, flaccid penis pop out from inside her -his- body.
The Broker has gone completely stiff, his face a mask of perfect horror as he stares at the burly, middle-age Eastern European crossdresser he is currently penetrating. A weak moan of anguish escapes his mouth. "Never...ever...do that."
"Look!" Hardcore roars, jabbing a finger at you, still unable to move by the weight of the man pinning him to the desk.
The Broker notices you and quickly pulls out of his bodyguard. "Who the hell... Well don't just stand there! Grab him!"
Hardcore leaps over the desk, bearing down on you. He must have forgotten about the stiletto heels. As his foot hits the floor his leg collapses out from under him, and you take the moment to turn and run.
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