She felt something rolling along her skin and, as it rolled, it left behind a pricking sensation that almost ignited her sensitive skin. Whatever it was, it was turning her on all the more.The sensation rolled up her inner thigh, then vanished. A moment later it landed on her arm, starting at the wrist and moving slowly towards her armpit – leaving an erotic, fiery trail behind it. This continued for a few moments – the device leaving Sandy's skin only to reappear elsewhere, sometimes just teasing her for a short time, other times lingering, scratching at her skin and driving her wild with desire. Each time it touched her she gasped in lust at the sensation. Each time it left her she whined in frustration.The pricks of pain seared through her hypnotized mind, reinforcing her helplessness. With each prick, Sandy felt more and more exposed. With each prick she felt more and more aroused. When the device finally landed on her breasts – accompanied by a loud clap of thunder – tracing. ..sexy. She blushed at that thought. Sexy? Howhad that ever been possible? How could she ever have felt sexy as a girl?She wasn't a she. She was a he. He was a man. A strong man. A man whocould fight what was happening to him. He saw a light at the end of thetunnel. More than a metaphorical light. A real light, the outside world.He kept crawling. Ignoring the bounce of his faux breasts as they moved upand down with his movements. He couldn't wait to rip them off, climb thefence, or the wall, or whatever it was, and get back to his deluxeapartment in the sky. He began to laugh. A real laugh. Not a giggle likehe'd been programmed to do these past few months. A proper laugh. He waswas happy. He was nearly free.He slammed against the vent and popped it out, sliding out and down to theground. His bare feet hit the grass and he savoured that feeling. Afeeling he hadn't felt in all too long. All those months in heels. Damnthose heels. He'd never have to wear them again. He started to run to.
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