Trailer Trash

Chapter 1

by BHFun

Tags: #cw:noncon #clothing #dom:male #growth #humiliation #sub:female #transformation #blackmail

This was a commissioned story by one of my Patreons. I release all of my stories for free eventually. If you would like to read the most recent chapters, you can join my Patreon here.

Chapter One

Victoria Maddison exasperatedly sighed as she made her way through the bullpen towards her private office. “Tom, bring me a coffee.” She ordered the man sitting at his desk.

“Uhmm, Victoria, you know we have the same job title, right?” he remarked.

His comment stopped Victoria in her tracks, and she peddled back towards him. Tom visibly held his breath. He had been on the wrong side of Victoria’s rants before. “We are the same, are we?” She started. “I’ve just returned from my third successful house sale this week. What’s your numbers?”

Tom clearly didn’t want to have this fight with the bitchiest woman in the building and turned his head to return his focus to his work, but Victoria wasn’t done. “In fact, how many sales have you made this month?” She continued, “You’re a complete waste of space, Tom.” She paused and then let a slight grin cross her face. “We started here at the same time six years ago. I have my own private office while you’re still slumming it here with the interns.”

Tom grimaced when he heard her insults but chose not to bite back. “Leave him alone, Tori.” A younger voice called out in the cubicle next to Tom’s. The source of the voice was Isabella Phillips, a fresh-faced twenty-year-old new hire who had been heralded as the next big thing by management.

Victoria turned her attention to the slim, pretty brunette. “It’s Victoria, not Tori. Let me give you some advice, new girl.” Victoria spoke with more venom than she had previously. “It would be good for you to remember your place around here and not stick that pretty little nose into places where it doesn’t belong.” The standing woman didn’t want to give the intern a chance at a witty reply, so she headed to her private office before Isabella had a chance.

Victoria closed the door behind her and hung her Louis Vuitton coat on the back of it. She stared out the large window and took in the sights of downtown Silver Springs before sitting at her desk. Victoria was born in New York City and longed to return to the city that never sleeps one day. Her family moved to the wealthy Southern city of Silver Springs, Alabama, when she was in High School. Victoria had made a name for herself in the real estate business since starting with Emerald Estates after graduation six years ago.

After taking her seat, the estate agent prodigy noticed a sealed envelope placed on her desk. Curiously, she opened the letter up and started reading. Her mood improved the further down the letter she read. Her great aunt, Tammy Maddison, had died. That wasn’t the reason for her positive outlook; she wasn’t that heartless. Victoria had never even known an Aunt Tammy growing up, and she never heard the name spoken by either of her parents.

What caused Victoria to smile was that her aunt, whom she had never heard of, had left the young brunette her entire estate in her will. The letter displayed an address in Scrappy Junction, on the outskirts of Silver Springs. Her agency didn’t sell many properties in Scrappy Junction, and Victoria knew little about the area. Still, Victoria could always sell the property if it was in some thuggish community.

With her appointments cleared up for the day and a successful sale under her belt, the fiery woman decided there was no time like the present to check out her new inheritance. She slipped the letter into her back and slipped on her coat again before opening her door. As she stepped out, she saw Tom standing beside her doorway with a freshly poured cup of coffee, but she paid him no mind. “Not now, Tom.” She said dismissively and made her way out of the building.

Once outside, Victoria headed for the parking lot when she heard someone raise their voice towards her. “Vicky, is that you?” She frowned; no one had referred to her as Vicky since high school. She turned around and watched a young man with greasy, shaggy, dark blond hair approach her. The man was wearing the uniform of a well-known fast-food chain and smoking a cigarette.

The unknown man went in to hug the smartly dressed Victoria, but she took a couple of steps back to ensure he never made it that far. “Ugh, my name is Victoria. Who are you, exactly?”

The man took a long drag of his cigarette before replying with a smile. “You don’t recognize me? I’m Andrew Blackwood. We used to hang out at school together.

Victoria raised an eyebrow. She had a large friend circle in High School, and she vaguely remembered an Andrew on the fringes of that group, but she certainly would never associate herself with a greasy lowlife like the man standing before her. “Umm, sure. Look, never talk to me again.” She started with a bitter tone before looking down at the cigarette in his hand. “And you should give up on those.” She remarked dismissively before turning back around and heading to her car. Victoria had always hated everything about smoking; she believed it was tacky and tasteless, and only the dregs of society allowed themselves to succumb to the addiction.

The tall brunette woman found her car in the parking lot and headed towards her new fortune in Scrappy Junction, Alabama.

Victoria plugged the address into her phone and set off on her way. She was heading to an estate called Magnolia Meadows. It sounded like a beautiful, affluent community on the outskirts of town; no one would ever name a run-down shithole Magnolia Meadows after all, right?

As the shadows from the beautifully tall buildings of Silver Springs faded away, it was clear the government budget for road maintenance depleted the further away she drove from the city. Eventually, she found herself angrily navigating a full dirt road, muddying up her nice new white Porsche.

Victoria was directed through the dusty main street of Scrappy Junction, with its wooden rustic town hall and a couple of tiny convenience stores simply named ‘supermarket’. There weren’t many people on the streets, and those who were paid particularly close attention to the luxury car navigating through the town.

Eventually, Victoria found her desperation, and her pretty 25-year-old face contorted into an angry look of despair. While she expected Magnolia Meadows to be some prosperous gated self-contained community, she drove under the large sign into a massive trailer park. There must have been over two hundred stationary trailers on the site. Did her great-aunt used to live in a trailer? Was that the reason her parent had never mentioned her existence?

A large part of Victoria’s consciousness was urging her to turn the car around and forget about her inheritance. However, Victoria was never someone to pass up the opportunity to make some money, and she was confident she could make a tidy profit; she was the best closer in the city, after all.

Parking in the large lot at the front of the site, Victoria stumbled on the gravelly path in her expensive high-heeled shoes towards lot 69. She was careful not to touch anything and ignored any stares from the grotty residents who took an interest in her image.

Fortunately, the trailers appeared to be numbered in numerical order, and she found the lot her Aunt Tammy used to reside in, her heart sinking when it dawned on her that the filthy container now belonged to her. From the outside, it looked as though the trailer hadn’t been cleaned for years, with black and green grime decorating the exterior of the white trailer.

Victoria peered inside the dirty window of the abode, and the state of the interior infuriated her even further. The main coffee table was laced with tobacco ash and cigarette butts, along with various empty bottles of alcohol. Bright trashy underwear was strewn over the floor and the large double bed that dominated most of the small living space. Did one of her family members truly subject themselves to this lifestyle? How was that even possible?

“You my new neighbor?” She heard the distinctly Southern voice echo behind her. Victoria turned around, and a dark-haired man with a dramatically receding hairline stood directly behind her. He was wearing a stained white vest that barely covered her bulging beer belly and ripped jeans that had seen much better days.

She chose to ignore his question and step away from the trailer. “Tammy was a real good time. It was a darn shame when she left. You her daughter?” Simply hearing the man’s voice made Victoria’s skin crawl; how could anyone live in this condition?

“Ugh, no. I better go,” she replied. Despite leaving the Big Apple a decade ago, Victoria made sure to keep her accent, believing it made her appear more cultured and refined.

The unknown man stepped toward her. “If you need help moving in, me and some buddies will be sure happy to help a fine woman like you.” he offered.

“Get away from me, you filthy hillbilly!” Victoria was not prepared to have the man invade her personal space, so she stepped forward, pushing the man backward and sending him to the floor. Before he could react, Victoria raced away as fast as she could in her heels and headed towards the site office.

Back at the front of the trailer park, Victoria found two converted storage containers with a sign indicating that she was looking at the main office. She knocked on the door and made her way inside, spotting a fat man with short, wiry, graying hair reading a newspaper at his large, cluttered desk.

“Are you the manager here?” Victoria asked without introducing herself, stepping over an unknown stain on the office carpet.

The man lowered his paper to peer over the top of it and watched the pretty, well-dressed brunette woman approach his desk. “Well, that depends on who’s asking, sweetcheeks.” He responded in a commanding Southern drawl. “If one of my tenants owes you money for last night, it ain’t none of my business.” He returned to reading his paper.

It took a moment for Victoria to decipher his insinuation, and she scowled in disgust at the crude thought. “No, my aunt was Tammy Maddison. She left me lot 69 in her will.” She responded as professionally as she could; she just wanted to get this over and done with.

Her comment piqued the fat man’s interest, and he placed his newspaper on the table. “Ohh, really? She was a great gal.” He said, looking up as if he were remembering better times. “So we gonna be seeing a lot more of each other then.” He smiled, displaying a significant gap in his mouth where two of his teeth used to be.

Victoria shuddered, stepping up to the desk. “Ugh, no. I plan on selling the property.” She looked around the office with a critical eye. “That’s if I don’t have this site shut down for several health and safety violations first.” She couldn’t help herself; she was just too disgusted that a place like this existed.

The man continued to smile and stood up. While it looked like he was wearing a regular suit when sat at his desk, it was apparent the shirt he chose to wear was far too small for him and displayed a portion of his oversized waist. What was it with the men around here showing off their potbelly stomachs? Victoria thought. “Well, missy. Take a seat, and we can discuss your concerns over a cup of coffee.” He remarked, walking over to his drinks counter.

As Victoria begrudgingly took a seat, the man slipped a powdered substance into one of the mugs before taking both cups of coffee to the table and sliding one over to the estate agent. “The names Cade Travis by the way, but everyone around here calls me Hank. And you are?”

Victoria cleared her throat, sipping the offered coffee before speaking. “Victoria. Victoria Maddison.” She responded in kind. The conversation started with a civil tone, but the power-suited brunette appeared increasingly irate at Hank’s laid-back answers to her concerns. The more she spoke to the self-declared Trailer King, the more determined she was to get this entire park shut down.

“You can kiss your trailer trash empire goodbye, Mr Travis.” She spat out as she rose from the chair. “I will be seeing you in court!” She immediately turned and headed toward the door.

Hank simply chuckled, leaning back in his chair and admiring her shapely derrière as she walked away. “Ohh, I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other again real soon, Miss Maddison.” He replied.

Victoria grimaced at his comment but didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response. She slammed the office door so hard behind her the glass windows almost smashed. She headed back to her Porsche and drove her car away as fast as these damn dirt roads would allow.

Once the asphalt reappeared on the road and the towering buildings of Silver Springs could be seen in the distance, Victoria felt a lot more comfortable. She would have to take a long shower when she got home, she thought. She couldn’t believe people could live in such filthy conditions.

Strangely, a wave of tiredness suddenly hit Victoria. She pondered pulling over, but her phone told her she would be home in ten minutes, so she marched on and sped up in an attempt to get home quicker.

After about three minutes of fighting to keep her eyes open, Victoria’s mind clouded, and she felt a bout of dizziness overwhelm her. Before she could contemplate stopping her vehicle, her eyesight blurred, and she witnessed vague white lights directly in front of her.

Victoria had swerved into the opposite side of the road. Before the oncoming vehicle could react, both cars smashed head-on. Even Victoria’s seatbelt and exploding airbag couldn’t save Victoria from the force of the collision, and she drifted out of consciousness.

Victoria’s eyes fluttered open, slowly awaking from her slumber. It took her a while to adjust to the bright lights around her. She appeared to be in some hospital recovery room, and her body felt tender all over. Sitting up, she noticed that she didn’t feel any pain, but her body felt lethargic and sore.

A nurse walked past the room and witnessed the estate agent readjust herself, and she ran off to notify the doctor. A few moments later, Victoria was joined in the room by an older man with white hair and a full white beard, wearing a doctor’s coat and a stethoscope around his neck. “Ahh, Miss Maddison. I am glad to see you’re finally awake.” He said with a British accent as he approached her.

Victoria noticed the tubes coming out of her arm and tried to recall how she ended up in a hospital bed. “How long have I been asleep? What happened?” She asked, her voice hoarse, as if she hadn’t used it for a long time.

“Take it easy, Miss Maddison.” The doctor suggested. “My name is Doctor Giles, and you were involved in a terrible car collision. You have been in a coma for a little over seven months.”

Victoria’s eyes widened. Suddenly, her memory started to flashback to her sudden tiredness, the dizziness, and the oncoming bright white lights, but then nothing else. “Seven months? I need to get back to work. They can’t survive long without me.” Her voice started to loosen up the more she spoke. Despite her lethargic energy, she attempted to pull at the tubes pressing into her skin before the doctor stopped her.

“Ahh, well, we need to talk about that.” Doctor Giles said as he approached the side of her bed. “A lot has happened while you were asleep. You see, the woman in the car you collided with was the daughter of a US Senator, and unfortunately, we couldn’t save her.”

The brunette patient shuddered; it couldn’t be true. “Oh my god,” she automatically responded. Did she cause the crash? Why was it so difficult to remember?

“When we conducted our initial tests, we found a large combination of party drugs in your system,” the doctor revealed to her. “You shouldn’t have been able to stand up straight, let alone drive a motor vehicle, Miss Maddison.”

Victoria sat in the bed, confused and horrified; that couldn’t be true. “Umm, Doctor. There must be a mistake. I’ve never taken drugs in my life.” She tried to explain.

Doctor Giles couldn’t stop himself from chuckling slightly at her answer. “Yes, likely story.” He responded with cynicism. “The victim’s family immediately sought to sue you for damages. Normally, they would have to wait until you were awake to defend yourself, but the evidence was insurmountable, and Senator Watson is a powerful man.” He continued. Victoria didn’t like where this was heading. “They succeeded in their lawsuit, and the court awarded them $1 million in damages.”

Victoria shook her head; none of this added up. She never took drugs, and she felt fine before she got into the car. Something else must have happened here. “$1 million? How can I afford-” she said before the doctor cut her off.

“After the judgment, your job was terminated, and your assets were seized. Your apartment was sold to cover much of the debt, and your bank account was emptied.” Victoria started to believe she was still in a coma, experiencing a horrific nightmare. None of this could be possible, surely, not while she was asleep.

The white-haired doctor continued delivering bad news. “The remainder of your debt could easily have seen you landed in prison until a good Samaritan chose to give you a second chance and bought the debt himself.” He finished, to Victoria’s dismay. Someone has bought the remainder of her debt? Why?

“Bought my debt? Who?” She had so many questions and didn’t know where to start. Did he mention prison time? Victoria was an educated woman and was sure this wasn’t how the legal system worked.

“Yes, he just arrived, actually.” Doctor Giles said, turning back to face the door. “I will leave you both to discuss things privately.” On his way out, another man arrived and shook the doctor’s hand. Victoria’s eyes widened in horror when she saw the man standing in the doorway.

“Looks like someone pissed off the wrong people,” Victoria heard that confident Southern accent as Cade Travis appeared to revel in her predicament. “We have a lot to discuss, girly.”

“You? You bought my debt? Why in the hell would you do that?” The freshly fired estate agent asked with desperation in her voice. She wanted nothing to do with this piece of shit.

Hank stepped up to the side of her bed, and Victoria attempted to slide further away, not wanting to be anywhere near the greasy loser. “Well, I loves a good investment opportunity.” She said with a toothy grin. “You see, you’s gonna work for me now.”

Victoria’s mouth parted, and she gasped, shaking her head fervently. “Over my dead body. I would never work for you!” She spat out at him.

Hank simply chuckled away and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “See, the thing is, you don’t have many options.” He explained to her, handing her the paper. “This is how much of your debt remains. How much of your debt I own.” He gleefully tells the patient. “Either you come up with a way to pay me now, or you gonna be heading straight to jail.”

Victoria shuddered at the mention of jail time. She wouldn’t last five minutes inside a prison, and it would be difficult to get her life back on track when she got out. “Or you come work for me for two years, and I wipe your debt clean.” Hank offered. After hearing the impossible first option and the unthinkable second, suddenly working for him sounded far more appealing, even if the mere sight of him made her feel sick.

“OK, you win.” The brunette responds in resignation. “I’ll work for you for two years.”

Her response caused Hank to smile widely. He thought it would take a lot more convincing than that. “Ohh, that’s great!” he exclaimed. I will let the doctor know your decision, and we can get you home,” he added.

Victoria raised an eyebrow. “I’m unsure if you were paying attention, but my apartment was sold!” She spoke with resentment. “I don’t exactly have a home to go back to.”

Her comment didn’t deter Hank’s grin, “Ohh, don’t worry about that, girly.” He said, making Victoria extremely nervous. “I got just the place for you to stay.”

“This place is disgusting!” Victoria never thought she would be back in Scrappy Junction after her first visit, much less standing in the center of her great aunt’s filthy trailer in lot 69 of Magnolia Meadows Trailer Park.

“Ohh, you’ll get used to it.” Her new boss replied. His tone sounded extremely mocking. “It just needs a feminine touch, and it’ll be good as new in no time.”

Victoria rolled her eyes, staring at the large bed she would now be spending her evenings in. “I need some new clothes. Those bastards sold everything in my apartment, including all my clothes.” She said with an angsty tone as if they violated her by offloading all of her expensive suits without her permission.

“Don’t you worry ’bout that.” The Trailer Park King consoled her, “You can use your aunt’s old clothes in the closet there. You’re about her size, although she was much more impressive up top.” The man’s eyes lingered on Victoria’s chest for way too long as he spoke. “Tammy always did have great style.”

His leering eyes made Victoria feel uncomfortable and anxious, and she seriously doubted his idea of great style matched the former estate agent’s. “OK, so what will I be doing around here, exactly?”

Hank grinned at Victoria’s question. “I’m glad you asked, pretty girl.” He looked out of the dirty trailer window. “You are gonna be my secretary. I needs some help running this place; collecting rent, dealing with complaints, stuff like that.”

The idea of being anyone’s secretary made Victoria feel uneasy, but becoming the secretary of this slob just felt disgusting. She knew she had no choice, though. The brunette kept telling herself that it was only for two years, and then she could build herself back up. She was a brilliant woman with a silver tongue; she would be just fine.

“Right,” Hank speaks again, placing a piece of paper on the ash-strewn coffee table. “I’ll give you some time to settle in, and then I need you to work through this list. I got over 200 trailers around here and almost half of them are behind on their rent.”

As her grubby new boss left, Victoria sat beside the coffee table and immediately stood back up when reminded of her dirty surroundings. She needed some air and some distance away from the disgusting state of her new home. The brunette woman picked up the piece of paper and got to work on hunting down tenants for their rent.

The first lot on the list was only a couple of lots down from her own abode. ‘Lot 73: Levi & Mary-Lou Jenkins- Owes $180 rent.’ Sounds simple enough, she thought. Victoria headed over to the Jenkins’ trailer in the blistering sun. As she approached, she saw a middle-aged African American man sitting in a rocking chair directly in front of the trailer. “Mr Jenkins? Are you Mr Jenkins?” she called out.

The man looked in her direction. He was wearing a straw hat and appeared to be chewing tobacco. “That depends whose asking, little lady.” He replied back.

“I work for Mr Travis,” she continued, ignoring his comment. “Our records show that you owe $180 in rent payments. I have come to ask for prompt payment.” She says. In her previous work, Victoria found that people responded best to authoritative and professional voices.

“Mr Travis?” The man responded with confusion, still chewing away. “Ohh, you mean Hank? Wow, how’d he get a pretty little thing like you working for him? Lucky bastard. Tell the old man he’ll get his money. He knows I’m good for it.”

The way the man spoke to her angered Victoria. “I’m not a pretty little thing.” She spat out, “My name is Victoria Maddison, and if you don’t pay up now, we will have no choice but to take legal action.” She may have gone overboard, but his condescending attitude riled her up.

Levi raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting her demand. “Legal action? Missy, we don’t take too kindly to threats around here.” He warned her, “Tell old Hank he will get his money. Now get out of here before I get Mary-Lou to mess up your pretty face.”

Victoria gasped, having never been so openly threatened with violence before. Seeing no other option, she turned around and stormed off, hearing the man laughing as she walked away. The rest of the list turned out exactly like the first, with Victoria demanding payment and the tenant trying to flirt with her. Then, when she resorted to the threat of legal action, they ordered her to get off their property. Empty-handed, she eventually headed back to the main office.

“Well, there’s my bright new employee,” she heard the grating voice of her new boss when she stepped inside the office. “Sounds like you had an eventful day. I just had a nice visit from Levi Jenkins. They didn’t like your visit too much.” He said, a grin still on his face.

“These people are awful!” Victoria complained, “All of them. How do you deal with these damn hillbillys!” Her comment caused Hank to raise an eyebrow.

“You’ll never get them to come round acting like that,” Hank looked her up and down. “You look like a lawyer threatening to sue them. People round here don’t like those sorts. You’re gonna need to change your attitude if you’re gonna be of any use to me.” Victoria wanted to retort but kept silent. She knew the alternative to taking this job was jail time.

“Now, go get a good night’s sleep. You can try again tomorrow. I’ve loaded some meals in your fridge while you were working.” He ordered his new secretary. Victoria wordlessly turned around and left the office, happy to be out of his sight, even if it meant having to spend the night in the filthy trailer.

After eating the most bland meal she had ever tasted, Victoria laid down for the night. The bed was surprisingly clean and comfortable compared to the rest of the tiny living space. After the horrific day she had, it didn’t take long for the brunette to drift off to sleep.

What Victoria was unaware of was that Hank had fitted two speakers into the headrest of her bed. At night, as she slept, the speakers would emit subliminal messages completely muted to the human ear but would sink directly into the brunette’s subconscious.

Victoria awoke in her new bed and immediately knew something felt off. She was confused as she looked around her new, confined surroundings, a far cry from the luxury apartment she was used to in downtown Silver Springs.

Stepping out of bed with a weird nagging craving in the back of her head, she tried to put it to the back of her mind and opened up her deceased aunt’s closet, groaning at the sight before her. She was correct in believing that her aunt Tammy had the trashiest fashion sense. The closet was littered with short, revealing crop and tank tops, cut-off denim shorts, and tiny microskirts. There was a multitude of animal print clothing and revealing dresses, and on the floor laid a combination of heeled cowboy boots and stilettos that would make a stripper blush.

Deciding against humiliating herself in those outfits, Victoria turned her attention to the only respectable outfit she owned: the navy blue power suit she wore yesterday. Except the suit had vanished from where she left it. In a panic, the former estate agent searched high and low in the cramped trailer, but the suit was nowhere to be seen, nor were her professional black-heeled pumps. Had someone stolen her damn clothes while she was asleep?

Furious at the invasion of her privacy, Victoria angrily reopened the closet. She knew she couldn’t wander around the site naked and had no choice but to wear one of these trashy outfits.

She settled on a black t-shirt that looked far more respectable before she put it on. It was pretty loose in the chest but tight in the waist and refused to cover her navel. There was font on the front in large bubble letters spelling out ‘Honk For Help’ across the chest. All of Aunt Tammy’s bras were far too big for her, which meant Victoria had no choice but to go braless, the nipples attached to her B-cup breasts slightly poking through the thin t-shirt.

Despite living through the intense heat of Alabama, Victoria never showed off her legs above the knee, but the tight denim cut-off shorts she now wore showed off more than enough leg. The shorts were tight at the back and rose, giving her a slight wedgie from behind. She completed the ensemble with the shortest heels she could find: a pair of cream 3” heeled cowboy boots.

The nagging craving hit her again as she opened her door and exited the trailer. The brunette felt self-conscious and humiliated walking outside, showing so much skin, but she wasn’t left with much choice. She was about to approach the main office when something caught her eye on her outdoor table, causing her to lick her lips absently. Someone had left a lighter and a full pack of cigarettes as if they were presenting her with a gift, and the craving hit deeper.

She stepped over to the pack and immediately slid a long cigarette out. Victoria had always been ardently against smoking and believed anyone who engaged in the practice had a low IQ, but she felt the craving dull as the smoke landed between her unpainted lips. She lit the cigarette and took her first long puff of the toxic stick, and something just felt right inside her. She was halfway through the smoke when the craving ultimately died down, and Victoria had a chance to contemplate what she was doing. She tossed the cigarette on the floor in a desperate fury and coughed; what the hell was she doing?

What the hell was this place doing to her? She had lived her one night, and she was already dressed like a trashy hillbilly while smoking a cancer stick. She absently placed the rest of the cigarette pack in her pocket and headed off to work.

The next few days didn’t go any easier for Victoria. The tenants continued to take offense at her professional approach and made belittling comments about her appearance. Worst of all, every time their primitive antics angered her, she couldn’t prevent the strong desire to take a break and have a smoke; it was as if it were a natural reaction.

After a week in her hapless situation, Victoria followed her new routine of breakfast and shower before fitting herself into one of Aunt Tammy’s ridiculous outfits. She prepared herself to leave the trailer when she spotted herself in the mirror, but something felt totally wrong. The new secretary was wearing a strapless leopard print minidress that almost reached her knees, with matching 4” stiletto heels. She knew she looked cheap, but that wasn’t the reason something felt wrong. Her eyes settled on the makeup desk near her bed, and her heart fluttered. Victoria gasped sharply. ‘Oh no’, she thought alarmingly.

She soon stepped out of her trailer and lit up a new cigarette. Her lips looked a little larger and were now colored a bright, shiny red. A generous amount of blush gave her cheeks some color, and her eyes were liberally decorated with dark eyeliner and orange shadow to match her dress. She thought she looked ridiculous but couldn’t bring herself to leave the apartment without completing the look.

The trashy-dressed brunette tottered down the dirt path towards the main office, hearing a couple of wolf whistles directed her way but choosing to ignore them. A week ago, she would have turned around and given the misogynistic assholes a piece of her mind, but she felt like she was in no position to argue her point in her current outfit.

Entering the office, Victoria heard another wolf whistle, this time from her boss, Hank. He looked her up and down with a hunger in his eyes that made the woman feel uneasy. “My, my. Look at you,” the slob remarked. “I like the new makeup; it damn suits you.”

Victoria rolled her eyes in disgust at his comment, but she couldn’t deny a soft warmth in her chest when he complimented her; it felt good. She shook her head as her mind wandered. What the hell was happening to her?

“I got some office work for ya today,” Hank informed his new secretary. “You good with numbers, yea? I got some spreadsheets I need you to look through.” Victoria’s heavily made-up face scowled at him, but she was relieved she wouldn’t need to traipse through the dirty park communicating with worthless scum. Working in the office felt like heaven compared to that.

She settled into her chair and started her assigned work. Hank grinned to himself, watching the formerly stuck-up, snobby estate agent as she absently lit up a cigarette, dressed in the tightest of dresses and caked-on makeup. Those subliminal tapes were working perfectly. He decided it was time to take it further.

“Hey, girly. I been thinking ’bout why you gettin’ so much trouble with my tenants.” Victoria continued looking through the spreadsheets as Hank spoke. “You see, you just look too plain. You make them feel nervous.” He continued. Victoria shuddered; why was it her job to make his tenants feel more comfortable? If they owed him for rent, they should pay up. “I bet you’ll get a much better reaction if you got yourself some big ole titties, maybe lips too. If you like, I could pay the cost upfront and add it to your debt.”

Victoria couldn’t ignore his crude suggestion. “Excuse me?” She turned around to face him. I am not like those trashy hillbilly sluts you are used to dealing with, Mister!” She said with the same venom she had when they first met. “I actually have standards, and I will not abuse my body like that for you or anybody else!” Her face almost matched the red blush of her cheeks when she was finished.

She turned back to face her workstation when an uninvited voice entered the back of her mind, ‘Hank always has the best ideas’. She groaned out and tried to focus on her work. During her lunch break, Victoria absently started looking through websites of various clinics, for research purposes. Hank grinned silently. He tracked her workstation and could watch exactly what she was looking at through his PC. It was only a matter of time before she asked him the question.

Three Months Later

Trixie stared at her naked body in the mirror. She hated that name, but she couldn’t remember her old name, nor could she think of a new name; she was stuck with it, just like she was stuck with these huge basketballs on her chest. It had been two months since her big procedure, and her round, silicone-filled F-cup breasts had finally healed. Her tits sat high on her chest and were impossible to mistake for natural mounds. If their shape and positioning didn’t give away their surgical nature, the scars underneath each breast confirmed it.

Her lips had equally been ‘upgraded’ from their slight pouty shape to a perfect pair of fat, plump, cocksucking kissers. Trixie no longer needed to use a lipliner to mask the size of her lips; these were the real deal.

Her well-maintained brunette hair was replaced with a wild mess of platinum blond. Her new hair reached down toward her lower back and naturally curled down to the tip. Her face lacked any sign of refinement or professionalism. Trixie was disgusted by her new look, but something in the back of her mind told her it was perfect.

Fifteen minutes later, she was leaving her tiny trailer, wearing the same ‘Honk For Help’ t-shirt she had worn on her first day of work. This time, her enhanced chest filled out the t-shirt more, and her nipples stuck out more prominently. A cheap rhinestone piercing decorated her exposed navel. The trashy denim skirt she wore failed to cover her plump ass, and showed off her bare pussy if anyone dared to look close enough. She tottered on 5” black knee-length stiletto boots and tottered towards the office.

“Trixie! It’s great to have you back. You look super pretty.” Butterflies fluttered in Trixie’s chest as her boss complimented her. The compliments were unwanted, but she couldn’t escape the content feeling they gave her.

Trixie swayed in and headed towards her workstation. “Thanks, Mister Hank.” She replied. The refinement of her New York accent had almost totally disappeared, replaced with a sweet, southern drawl.

The blond secretary was preparing to sit when Hank cleared his throat. “Uhm, are we forgetting something, Trixie?” He asked. She tried to comprehend what he meant, but nothing came to mind. “Where is my good morning kiss?” The fat trailer king reminded her.

Trixie looked confused for a moment until a switch flipped in her mind. Of course, she needed to give him a good morning kiss. “Ohh, of course, Mister Hank.” She replied sweetly before tottering over to her large boss.

The stout man had already unbuttoned his shorts when the trashy blond dropped to her knees and wrapped her huge, inviting lips around his sweaty member. Trixie hated the taste of his cock, but she knew she needed to give him a long blowjob each morning. She had no idea why she knew that, but it felt as natural as brushing her teeth.

Trixie’s plump lips fit perfectly around Hank’s fat member, as if they were designed specifically for this job. Despite the disgusting taste, the blond felt pleasure each time his cock hit the back of her throat.

Working intently on pleasuring her boss, Trixie heard a timid knock and the office door open. She attempted to lift her head to investigate the source of the knock, but Hank placed his hand firmly on her blond-haired head, ensuring she kept sucking his cock.

“Ohh, sorry. If you’re busy, we can come back later.” Trixie heard a familiar voice speak with embarrassment, but she couldn’t quite place where the voice came from.

“Not at all; come on in,” Hank reassured the guest. “My secretary here is just havin’ her breakfast.” He said, patting her head. “What can I do for you two?”

Two pairs of feet scuttled across the room and sat opposite the large man, just a mere feet away from Trixie on her knees with her mouth full. “You called us last week with a proposal, Mr Travis.” The second voice piped up. Trixie’s eyes widened. She recognized the second voice also and shuddered in humiliation. “You told us you were looking to expand your portfolio.”

Trixie’s former colleagues, Tom Hudson and Isabella Phillips, were sitting across from her and talking to her greasy boss. She had always looked down on the pair, especially Isabella, after the first time she was awarded Employee of the Month, breaking Victoria’s 21-month winning streak.

The blond continued to suck the large, fat shaft as the three engaged in conversation, talking about Hank’s new aspirations to own half of Scrappy Junction. Towards the end of their meeting, Tom completely changed the subject, “You know, we used to have a colleague who left us almost a year ago. I’ve heard rumors that she lives here now. Perhaps you know her, Victoria Maddison.”

“Victoria?” Hank replied. Trixie repeated that name in her mind. It sounded familiar, but she had no idea where she had heard it before. Wait, Victoria, were they talking about her? Trixie’s eyes widened at her revelation. Hank decided to move the conversation on at the same time. “I don’t know no Victoria. Maybe you mean Trixie here. She used to be some pompous city bitch before she learned her place, right Trixie?”

The large man firmly grabbed Trixie’s hair and slid her off his cock; her lips still formed an O shape, and her mouth felt strangely empty. She craned her neck up at the two well-dressed estate agents. “What are yous looking at?” She venomously blurted out.

Tom laughed and was about to dismiss the suggestion that this piece of surgically enhanced trailer trash was the once mighty Victoria Maddison, but something about the look in her familiar blue eyes told him it was true. He covered his mouth in disbelief.

“Wow, ugh, it was nice to meet you, Mr Travis. We will do some digging and let you know what we find.” Tom spoke, not taking his eyes off the slutty bimbo on her knees. “Come on, Isabella, let’s leave them in peace. I can’t wait to tell the guys.”

Hank took hold of Trixie’s platinum blond hair and pushed her mouth down on his cock again. “It was nice t’ meet you. I can’t wait to do business with ya.” He grinned, clearly enjoying his secretary’s juicy red lips on his shaft. Trixie felt humiliated when she heard her two former colleagues leave the building, her mouth still pleasuring her boss.

A few moments later, Hank groaned, and Trixie was rewarded with several streams of cum shooting down her waiting throat. The blond cocksucker immediately started swallowing the salty substance, her boss’ hands giving her a helping hand and keeping his cock deep down her throat.

Trixie swallowed every drop, and Hank eventually pulled her head off his shaft and smiled down at her, admiring her perfectly bold makeup; that waterproof makeup worked wonders. “Wow, Trixie. You are a natural cocksucker.” He complimented her as he recovered.

The blond secretary reached into the pocket of her tiny denim microskirt and pulled out her cigarette packet. She lit a single smoke and took a long drag, her long, bright red fingernails visible as she pulled the cigarette from her mouth. “I seriously hate you, Mister Hank.” She growled up at him, taking another drag. His compliment gave her a pleasant, content sensation; she had truly become trailer trash.

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