Date: Fri, 25 Apr 2003 22:46:54 +0000
From: marcia st.denis <marciatv@hotmail.com>
Subject: Jenn's Hunger - Chapter 8

Jenn's Hunger (Hard Time Sex- Prequel)

Copyright by Marcia St.Denis and Jennifer Stewart.

This story is a prequel to an earlier story called Hard Time Sex and was
begun soon after we finished our earlier collaboration. Unfortunately, it
has been more than a year since I have been able to reach Jennifer to get an
OK from her to publish this final version of the story. Since I have not
heard back from her, I am sending it in for your enjoyment just as I
finished it.  I only hope that my interest in perversely exciting characters
and situations has not gone too far for her to be happy with it. My primary
wish is that our many fans will derive great pleasure over many readings. It
is why I write trannie erotica in the first place: as a gift to you.

I hope I speak for both of us when I say that we write our stories for your
pleasure and we hope they bring you many moments of release and contentment.
Feel free to share our story with any other story site but please attribute
it to us. And finally, please write if you enjoyed it for I would love to
hear from my fans. Thank you.

Email me at:  marciatv@hotmail.com


Chapter One - Freshman Blues

Jeremy Stewart stood looking out his dorm window wondering if he was going
to make it. He felt incredibly lonely and completely forgotten. He was
miserable and wanted desperately to cry. But he knew that his roommate might
walk in at any moment and the only thing worse than feeling this miserable
would be to show anyone his weakness or let anyone know how he felt. He had
imagined college would be a lot different than he had found it: more
exciting with a campus full of talented, sensitive people like him. Instead,
he had found it to be rather uncaringly cold and anonymous and he was
terribly unhappy. Not only was he feeling lost on campus but he also knew
there was no going home. Regardless of how horrible it was at school, there
was no future at all for someone like him back in the dusty farming
community he came from. He had spent a lifetime dreaming about getting away
from the confines of his quiet little backwater and the last thing he wanted
was to go back with his tail between his legs. He was alone.

Yet he knew he was an extremely imaginative and creative artist with a
promising future as a designer and he knew he would just have to stay in
design school and hone his talent. He figured that there were plenty of
reasons why he was ignored and overlooked. He was diminutive and quiet and
certainly not the kind of boy that attracted lots of female attention. At 5'
4" he was slim and blessed with a smooth, luminous complexion. Not only
didn't he ever need to shave his face but he had no body hair either, just a
small tuft above his penis and it was extremely light and short. His face
was remarkable for its softness. One would almost call him pretty rather
than handsome.

Although he was loathe to acknowledge it, he knew he was actually very
attractive to a small portion of the school. He had drawn a lot of
speculation within the gay community, who saw him as a darling little
addition to the landscape. But although Jeremy knew he attracted attention
from some of the more aggressive gay boys he was generally oblivious to the
looks and the comments his presence elicited throughout the community since
no one ever seemed to approach him to get acquainted and he was far too shy
to introduce himself to anyone he thought looked interesting. As a result,
he had spent the first month of school alone and totally isolated without
anyone to talk to or do things with. His only solace was his almost
compulsive masturbation in spite of his embarrassment at needing to do it so
frequently. Every day when he awakened he vowed to stop yet, within hours,
and usually after one of his women's fashion classes, his overwhelming
sexual hunger forced all other thoughts out of his mind and, like a junkie
looking for a place to shoot up, he would have to find some hidden corner of
campus to pull his cock out of his pants and quickly make himself spurt out
his desperate loneliness and need in the form of long, thick ropes of white
sticky cum.

He would start by slipping his delicate hands into his open fly and snake
out his long, hard prick. He thrilled at the thought that he would dare to
expose himself in a public place and the ever-present risk of being spotted
by other people only served to elevate the eroticism of what he did. As he
made a circle with his index finger and thumb, he loved the feeling of
complete abandon he felt as he let his fingers slip down over the glans. He
shivered at the feel of the inevitable lubrication of his pre-cum being
smeared over the head of his penis. It felt so good, this initial encircling
of his desire-crazed cock. Jeremy was convinced that being circumcised made
him more sensitive and he swore he could feel every single cell of his
larger than average sized penis more acutely than uncut boys. That must be
the reason he needed to cum so frequently!!!

Smearing the pre-cum over the top of his prick and down over the glans
allowed his hand to travel that much more rapidly and smoothly over the
super-sensitive skin. He would often take out a pair of women's smooth satin
panties that he carried with him to slip over the top of his cock so he
could feel the cool sensuous smoothness of his favorite fabric. As he
stroked himself into a harder, hungrier state of sexual need, he would think
of the lovely, revealing lingerie or the feminine sexiness of the clothes
he'd seen and handled earlier in the day in his previous classes and catch
his breath as he imagined that he was humping his cock up and into its soft
smoothness. Imagining himself buried in the softness of its folds he would
feel a heightened sense of urgency in his almost desperate need to cum. The
prospect of releasing his pent up, white-hot, creamy desire would send his
fingers into a paroxysm of frenzied activity and within minutes he would
sense the building explosion coming. When he finally allowed himself to
shoot out his come and feel it pulse up and through his hard hot column of
flesh he would look down so he could thrill to the sight of his slippery,
sticky jizm spew out of the tip of his angry looking red cockhead and fly
out onto the ground or into the confines of the panties. He also loved the
feeling of tightness that overwhelmed him as his hairless ball sac would
shrivel to a hard little ball and his penis head would grow in circumference
just moments before he blew his load. When the cum began to boil in his
ballsack and then begin its climb up his cock, he would reach down with his
free hand and lightly tickle his balls in order to milk out every last drop
of his sweet nectar.

After his last convulsive shudder of release, he would feel faint with the
shame of what he had done and the overwhelming need that pushed him to do it
and all he would want to do was to lie down and sleep. But, just as always,
instead he forced himself to look around in fear that he had been spotted
and, with the glazed look of a sexually satiated boy, he slowly made his way
back into the hallway or onto the path that he had left in his desperate,
almost frantic, search for another cum. His dark brown eyes gave him the
look of a startled doe. His wide sensuous mouth, small aquiline nose and
high cheekbones gave his face a decidedly feminine allure, while his long
shapely legs and delicate ankles combined with his long thin fingers made
him appear thin and feline and graceful, much the same way fashion models
looked. In fact it was noted by more than a few that his mannerisms had a
grace to them that few boys possessed.

Jeremy had barely turned 18 when he went off to art school. He was in his
second month at the New York College of Fashion and Art and his mood that
afternoon matched the weather outside: gray and morose. He knew no one other
than his roommate who ignored him completely and the loneliness pressed in
remorselessly. Every night he had slipped into his satin pajamas, washed and
moisturized his face, slipped into the softness of his eyelet edged sheets
and jacked off to the thought of various girls and ladies wearing the
dresses and/or lingerie he had designed. After choking back his cry of bliss
at shooting his spunk out into the soft, silky crotch of his pajamas and
then enjoying the feeling of his sperm growing cold and sticky on his cock,
balls, stomach and thigh, his thoughts would once more turn to his desperate
loneliness and he would find himself crying himself to sleep, But quietly of
course for it would have been a disaster if his roommate Tony had heard him.

Tony was a macho Latino type who got up at six every morning for a five-mile
run and three nights weekly worked out in the gym. Jeremy's 120-pound frame
looked puny beside Tony's magnificent physique and he felt intimidated just
being in the same room. Most nights, Jeremy was asleep before Tony even got
home. They rarely saw each other, let alone talked or did things together.

Jeremy was a talented artist with a keen and vivid imagination but, as yet,
he had not had the kind of classes where he could display his innate
ability. In fact, he felt as if he had made a disastrous start at school and
now all he wanted to do was quit and go home. Yet he knew that path led to a
dead end.

All during his adolescence he had thought that he wanted to go into the
fashion trade, designing women's clothes. He had always had a love affair
with the soft fabrics of women's clothes and he knew how to get the most out
of them when draped on the human body. He wanted to pursue that interest in
school. He had first displayed his interest and abilities at the tender age
of 6 when, one day while he was busy drawing, he had been vaguely aware that
his mother was sewing an evening gown for a local Kiwanis holiday ball.
While she was trying it on, but before it had been finished, he had looked
up from his drawing paper and suggested that she alter the way it came off
her shoulders. It was a simple suggestion but it transformed the gown from
being rather common to being truly stunning. From that moment on his mother
would always turn to him for advice on any designs she was thinking of
sewing and she made sure she took him shopping with her whenever she went
into town to look for something new to wear. Within a few years all of her
friends and their daughters were coming over to seek out his advice on their
clothes as well. Jeremy had a great eye and a great sense of style.
Instinctively, he knew what looked good and what didn't and more
importantly, he knew what alterations to make to turn a nice outfit into a
spectacular one. He had a love affair with the female form going and he
could make any woman become as sexy as she wanted to be with just a few
simple suggested modifications or additions to an outfit. He loved feeling
important and needed. He had also grown to love the feel of the fabrics as
they slid through his hands and invariably he would have to surreptitiously
reach down to adjust his hardening penis as he worked with his mother or her
friends. By the time he was 9 he had learned how to wrap his penis in a
piece of satin or in the silky back of a pair of panties or slipped into one
of his mother's stockings so that his hand would slide effortlessly over his
glans as he masturbated his way to another orgasm. Things became a little
more difficult after he had reached puberty and he started to leave puddles
of cream in the articles of clothing or the fabric. He quickly solved this
little problem by stealing what he needed off the clothes lines he passed on
his way through back yards while going to and from school.

Very quickly he learned how to design and sew lingerie and had mastered the
engineering complexities of the bra.  While making lingerie for his mother
and her friends, it was the easiest thing in the world to make a few little
skimpy panties for himself. Although he used them primarily to drape over
his cock to masturbate into it wasn't long before he discovered the thrill
of wearing them beneath the rough pants boys had to wear. Throughout his
teen years he wore women's panties whenever he felt he could get away with
it and even this little quirk had a silver lining: he knew first hand what
worked and what didn't work in the way of design, construction and materials
used for maximum comfort and beauty in women's lingerie . By the time he
graduated from high school he knew nothing could stop him from becoming a
successful fashion designer.

Tony, on the other hand, was going into computer graphics and made it clear
that he thought Jeremy was a fag. He told Jeremy that he was embarrassed to
bring his friends to the room because Jeremy always left his designs and
half-sewn dresses and blouses and skirts in plain view. Tony loved
tormenting the poor boy by asking when he would be modeling his latest
creations and by repeatedly announcing with mock fear that he was looking
for a room change as he was afraid Jeremy might try to sneak into his bed to
ravish him while he was sound asleep. This made Jeremy feel totally mocked
and miserable but he was helpless to know how to respond and simply tried to
avoid being in his room until it was time to go to bed. Every day he sat in
the student lounge or the library studying and sketching and he would only
get his sewing out when he thought Tony wouldn't be around.



Chapter Two – Something New

One day in early October, as he sat reading a stack of back copies of Vogue,
he became vaguely aware of a middle-aged man standing beside him.

"Excuse me. Sorry to disturb you, but my name is Rod Walker," the man spoke
in a friendly tone of voice.

"Hi."

"Are you Jeremy Stewart?"

"Yes I am. Is there something I can do for you?" Jeremy replied looking up.

"I think I know you. Didn't I see your photos in Modern Teen?" the man
asked.

"Oh. That was a long time ago. I thought I had changed enough so that no one
would recognize me." Jeremy had been chosen by the editors of the teen
fashion magazine when he was just 16 to model some clothing as a promotion
to try to interest kids from rural areas to take out subscriptions.

The man smiled and said, "You have. You're better looking and I'd like you
to model for my magazine."

"Oh yes? What is it?" Jeremy was excited.

He had enjoyed the Modern Teen gig. There was a time when he had become a
real exhibitionist and had loved posing and vamping for the photographer, a
domineering, masterful man. Jeremy had easily fallen under his control and
his body had moved fluidly as the man snapped out his commands. Jeremy had
also liked wearing the new clothes, a line of summer mix-and-matches for
teenage boys. It was that experience, combined with his lifelong love affair
with women's design and his innate love of material and style, that sparked
his interest in runway fashion shows and modeling. He had become interested
in women's fashions because of the range and variety of styles and colors
they offered and had fallen in love with runway modeling because of the way
the clothing moved and looked on the model's rather androgynous bodies.

"Well, it's a monthly which appeals to people with a specialized interest in
clothes. I'd like to feature you in the primary photo spread for that
month," the man replied.

"Oh, that sounds interesting... but what is the magazine."

"It's similar to "Playboy". We do stories, cartoons and photo features."
Jeremy was intrigued. His exhibitionist streak was flaring up.

"Does that mean I would have to pose nude?"

"No, not quite. You would wear clothes all the time but some of them would
be revealing. You see, I think you have a special kind of sex appeal that
our readers would respond to in a strong way. We pay very well, by the way."
Rod noticed Jeremy's eyes light up when he told him. Another starving
student he thought. He had him hooked.

"Are you interested?"

"Definitely. But, is that all there is to it? It sounds too easy and when
would I start?"

"Well, to be completely truthful, I should also tell you that you would be
required to wear women's clothes."

"What! Forget it! I design them, I don't wear them" Jeremy lied.

"Well, there's no harm in it you know. You actually might learn something
about how the clothes you design fit and how comfortable they are. But,
whatever you decide is okay. Suit yourself. Here's my card in case you
change your mind." Rod handed Jeremy his card and left. He was in no doubt
that he would hear from Jeremy within two days. All his "discoveries" made
it into his studios eventually, and almost always attracted by the money.

And, true to form, Jeremy called Rod the following morning. He had thought
long and hard about being seen by others while wearing women's clothes and
he had finally decided that it really didn't matter what anyone wore, it's
what they are inside that matters. He had also thought of a myriad of things
he could do with the money. To begin with he could get the first and last
month's rent for his own apartment and escape from Tony. Last night had been
the last straw. Tony and one of his moronic friends had been in the room
when Jeremy came in. They had teased him unmercifully about his feminine
looks until, by ignoring them and pretending to be asleep, they had given up
and left the room.

Jeremy didn't hesitate to announce, "I'll do it if you give me an advance."

"Sure kid. Can you come over at two, day after tomorrow?"

"Yes. I'll be there."

As Jeremy thought more about what he had agreed to do he got more and more
sexually excited and found that he was masturbating 3 to 5 times a day.
Nothing seemed to prevent his thoughts from dwelling on the look and the
feel of those clothes on his body and the men who might be watching in the
wings during the photo shoot. He did it four times on the morning of the
shoot itself in an attempt to empty his body and his mind of the allure that
women's clothing had on him. The last session was just after his design and
manufacture of women's support garment class and he almost ran out of class
to his favorite janitor's closet to whip out his prick and take the pink
satin tap pants from his pocket to drape over and wrap his tool in. As he
slid his hand up the shaft for his first stroke his eyes closed and his
breathing quickened. He could see in his imagination just how sensual he
looked in a periwinkle corset and panties with high heels and stockings and
the photographer had taken his massive cock out of his own pants and was
slowly jacking it off while shooting pictures of him. Jeremy groaned out as
he came the painful cum of a dry orgasm. This time he thought he'd made sure
his penis wouldn't betray what was in his mind right in the middle of the
shoot. It now hurt to even get hard let alone cum.

The studio was on the nineteenth floor of a downtown office block. A young
and extremely beautiful female receptionist with a breathtaking figure told
him to take a seat while she minced into an inner office on what had to be
5" open-toed black patent leather heels to announce him. Her makeup was
perfect, as were her painted toe and fingernails. Jeremy noticed her raw
sexuality but only in passing. He took far more interest in what she was
wearing and couldn't help but critique her outfit mentally as she moved past
him. He decided that her gray, raw silk skirt was cute as it sculpted her
tight little butt perfectly but, at what he guessed was 7" above her knees,
it was about an inch too short. And if she were determined to wear it as
tight as it was then she ought to wear a thong under it and not the high cut
briefs she had on whose lines marred the perfect symmetry of her round
buttocks. The gossamer thin, extremely décolleté purple blouse was very sexy
he decided, as it showed off the delicate lace of her black shelf bra
beautifully and molded around her obviously silicone enhanced D cup tits
nicely. Jeremy decided that it was clear Rod had good but not very subtle
taste in females just as he came out and ushered Jeremy into his office.

"This is going to take about three hours. Can you stay that long?"

"Yes."

"Splendid. This is Jean. She's our receptionist and make-up artist. She'll
be a big help. First let's sign some papers and then we'll get started."

Five minutes later Jeremy was following Jean's tight and voluptuous ass into
a dressing room containing little more than a clothes rack, a sink and a
dresser with a large oval mirror above it. On the dresser were pots and
vials of cosmetics, tubes of lipstick and mascara, eyebrow pencils, sponges
and balls of cotton. The sight of all that feminine warpaint was
intimidating but the smell was completely new to Jeremy and totally
intoxicating. His mother had never worn much in the way of cosmetics and
Jeremy knew just from the smell that he was going to love everything about
makeup. Jeremy stood there transfixed by it. Jean told him to undress and he
removed all his clothes down to his underpants.

"Briefs too, and put these on." She handed him a pink satin thong. "Go on,
you'll like them."

Blushing he removed his underpants and stepped into the silky panties
pulling them up over his quite large penis and testicles. He had always
hated exposing his genitals to strangers and felt incredibly self-conscious.
In high school his smooth and tiny body set against a large set of genitals
had always been the occasion for joking and abuse. But Jean did not seem to
care one way or another.

"Have you ever worn a bra?"

"No way! Of course not!"

"Oh well, there's always a first time for everything. Put this on."

She held out a pink satin and lace underwire and heavily padded full cup
bra. He held the alien garment in his hands unsure of what to do with it.

"Here, let me help, you silly boy. Hold out your arms ... that's it."

She slid the straps up his arms and over his shoulders then fastened the
hooks behind his back. Then she slipped two silicone breast forms into the
cups. He looked in the mirror surprised at how little it had taken to make
him look quite feminine. His body was hairless and his skin smooth and soft.
He put his hands on the bra and felt the curve of his breasts. His penis
stiffened and within seconds a wet spot appeared at the front of his thong.
He was mortified and tried to immediately hide his crotch from Jean's eyes
but she just smiled knowingly down at the young boy.

"Feels nice, doesn't it?" Jean said with a hint of a smirk. "You like it
don't you, huney?" She casually slipped her fingers through his long hair
and brushed it back and up, then let her finger tips lightly caress his
cheek and jaw.

Reaching down to his satin encased penis she heightened the sensual appeal
of the garments by lightly scratching his cock and glans with her long
painted nails.
He was about to faint. No one in his entire life had ever touched his penis
other than him and he thought he was going to cum right then and there in
spite of having tried to drain himself all morning. He leaned against the
wall to steady himself while a soft moan escaped his lips.

Jean leaned in with him and brought her glistening red lips to his ear and
whispered, "From this day forward you will never be the same huney. Welcome
to the overwhelmingly sensual world of being a bitch. You will soon discover
the power you hold over men. Use it to your advantage babydoll. Never let
them win. You are here to use them for your own pleasure and happiness.
Never forget who has control. Never let down your sister bitches. Do you
understand sweetie?"

"Yes, Jean, I understand but please stop so I don't have an accident.
Please?" he begged.

Jean stepped back and surveyed this lovely creature standing before her and
smiled wickedly. "You really are hooked aren't you dear sweet little boy?"

"Yes. It feels a bit strange but really actually very nice."

She helped him put on the matching garter belt, slipping the garters inside
his panties, and then the sheer nude nylons which she attached to the lace
covered garter straps and the satin ribbon-tipped stocking tabs. On top of
it all she had him put on a peach colored satin shortie robe that came to
the tops of his thighs.

"Sit at the dresser and let's see how pretty we can make you look."

In less than an hour from when he walked into the office, Jeremy sat there
looking somewhat stunned at the vision that was reflected in the mirror. By
the time Jean had finished putting make-up on him, he had been transformed
into a stunningly pretty girl who, with crimson lips, a soft wavy
black-haired wig and a large dark beauty spot just below the left corner of
his mouth, oozed drama and sex appeal. Jeremy gasped at his image when he
looked in the mirror but couldn't help pouting his lips and giving his image
a sexy little kiss. He smiled, totally transfixed at what he had become.

"Wow! That's amazing!"

"Not really. I've just enhanced your natural beauty."

Jean looked thoughtful.

"You are very pretty you know. Wearing male clothes can't hide that. Put
this dress on and you will see what I mean."

She held out a shimmering red satin sheath and a sheer bolero style jacket
with large turned back cuffs held together with large rhinestone clustered
links. As she helped him slip the dress over his head and down his body, he
trembled in response to the cool, soft sensuous touch of the fabric on his
skin. His heart was beating fiercely and his breath came in quick, short
pants. He had never felt anything so wonderful or so sexy. But then, he had
never really known what feeling sexy was like, as he had never dated. Nor
had he ever had a crush on anyone either. He had masturbated furiously since
puberty but never with the thought of sex in his mind as he really hadn't
found anything that sexually aroused him other than the clothes and the
fabrics themselves. Certainly not women. Yet, there was no doubt about his
body's response to this new situation. His penis throbbed in his panties
which were now quite wet. He was shocked at his thoughts and feelings. He
felt overwhelmed and somewhat lost. He loved looking like a highly sexed
bitch and he instinctively knew he was made to be used and to use men for
his pleasure and theirs.

Jean sensed his confusion and his pleasure and whispered in his ear, "You're
a girl at last ... Hmm? You always knew it was there didn't you doll? Your
feminine side has been hidden away all these years and now we've let it out.
Doesn't it feel delicious?"

Something was certainly happening to him. He was quite literally shaking
with excitement as she zipped up the dress and slipped the silky sheer coat
on him. And he nearly fainted from the incredible pleasure he felt as she
slipped onto his feet a pair of 4" high, sharp-toed, ankle-strapped Charles
Jourdan heels

"I can't understand what's come over me. The clothes feel amazing and I
feel... different... inside, I mean. And these shoes make me feel like I can
conquer the world... or at least most of the men in it. Tee hee"

"Most T-girls begin a bit earlier in age than you by trying on their
mother's or sisters' clothes. Some though, like you, discover their
femininity later and often by accident. Then, it's like the lid coming off a
pressure cooker. And once the genie is out of the pot she never ever gets
back in. I guarantee you that from this moment on you will always want to
dress as a woman Jeremy. Believe me. You make a far better looking, hotter
girl than you do as a boy. So, if you take my advice, don't fight it, just
be who you need to be and revel in the fact that you are far sexier than the
vast majority of genetic girls. You can easily pass as a woman anywhere you
go at any time of day or night."

Just then, they were interrupted by Rod who wanted to know if Jeremy was
ready.

"Isn't he gorgeous?" Jean asked.

"You've done a great job, Jean. He's perfect."



Chapter Three – The Shoot

For the next two hours Jeremy walked, spun, and vamped until every facet of
his ambiguous beauty was photographed. It was a powerfully sexual experience
for him and, if truth be known (which Jeremy was glad it wouldn't be), he
had nearly cum on two different occasions as his clothes rubbed up against
his straining cock. He was a natural exhibitionist and he found it very easy
to move and vamp for Rick's camera. Rod had made him remove his dress slowly
and sensuously during the shoot and then try on lots of different
combinations of lingerie, including at one point, going without panties of
any kind. It surprised him that he wasn't in the least embarrassed by his
straining hard-on and, in fact, derived a huge amount of pleasure in
exposing it to the camera and the people watching him in the room. Soon he
was down to a beautiful yellow lace bra and a long-line, very high garter
belt that started above the waist and ended down over his hips to cover half
of his ass cheeks. He wore matching yellow lace-topped stockings and on his
feet were the most delicate strappy pale yellow high heels. All of these
were peaking through a lovely crotch length, sheer chiffon, ruffle and
lace-edged black peignoir held together by a satin bow at the neck. On his
feet were a pair of black, open toed PVC pumps with 6" heels and a short
platform toe.

He thrilled to the realization that Rick had a pants-ripping boner as he
took roll after roll of pictures and watched him through the lens of his
camera. Jeremy felt like he was slowly and sensuously seducing this man as
he slowly took off the peignoir and then his panties to expose his own
straining 8" penis. He could hear Rick take a sharp intake of breath as he
slowly began to jack himself while looking up into the lens of the camera
and let the tip of his tongue slip out of his parted lips to wet them. He
continued making love to the camera and to his own cock until he had to
squeeze off an amazing orgasm just before exploding.

"Oh God... That was close. I can't afford to upset these guys. I can't cum
right in front of all these people...  I want to be invited to come back and
do this some more. Jean was right. I'll never be able to go back to being
Jeremy the Design School student... This has completely changed the entire
way I think."

Rod had called a break. And while Rick left the room to get more film, Rod
handed Jeremy a peach colored, satin shoulder wrap to keep warm. Jean was
called in to repair his makeup and as he sat in front of Jean, in the
privacy of the changing room, with his eyes closed, luxuriating in the
glorious feel of it all, he heard Rod say through the open door, "You like
wearing women's clothes, don't you kid?"

Jeremy blushed to the roots of his hair. "Yes, they feel really different. I
feel amazingly free and cheerful and happy and light. Why do you ask?"

"Well huney, I couldn't help but notice that from the moment you took off
your dress your penis has been erect and trying to break free from the
confines of whatever you were wearing or if it was free of any panties, it
kept spewing tiny little drops of pre-cum everywhere. And that last scene
was really hot. We want to see more of that kind of modeling. You got a
great future in this business kid."

Jeremy blushed a deep crimson, as he hadn't noticed that he was leaking so
much pre-cum. He wanted to melt through the cracks of the floor from
embarrassment. Rod laughed softly at his look of complete horror and tried
to relieve some of Jeremy's discomfort by reaching down and squeezing his
shoulder and saying, "You look real good in them. Here, look at these and
tell me if I am lying to you."

Rod spread out some prints from the early part of the session and Jeremy saw
himself perched on the desk in the red satin sheath and black patent pumps.
Nobody would ever mistake him for a male. Even he thought he looked pretty
and sexy. He looked at others. There he was in a black satin full slip
kneeling on the satin bedspread a la Lana Turner and another, lying on the
bed in a pink corset trimmed with black lace, his penis standing stiffly to
attention.

"What do you think?"

"It's amazing. Except for my hard penis, I look just like a girl."

"No you don't. You look like a beautiful, sexy woman. It's better than we
had expected. If you're not too tired we'd like to do one more session."

"I'm fine and I'm enjoying this."

"Well, we'd like to try something different. We'll give you an extra $500."

"Wow! Really? Why so much? What do you have in mind?"

"We'd like you to do some posing with a partner, just to create a contrast."

Jeremy assumed it would be someone like himself, also wearing women's
clothes so he agreed without giving it too much thought.

After Rod left the room, Jean, who had been as silent as a ghost throughout
the conversation, got up to close the door. She turned and looked at her
charge. She had been doing makeup and wardrobe work for Rod for many years
and she had discovered during the course of the morning that this young boy
was perhaps the most perfectly natural tgirl that had ever come through
Rod's hands. She had grown increasingly fascinated by this pretty young
man's natural femininity and sweet natured demeanor, not to mention the
incredible size of his penis attached to his tiny 120 lb. frame. He moved
like a woman, he talked like a woman, he smiled and pouted and teased like a
woman. He was just so perfect. And Jean was reacting in a way she hadn't
expected. It threw her off guard and now that she was alone with this
beautiful young boygirl she was finding it very hard to hide her deepest
hunger. She felt like it was plainly visible in her eyes and her face and in
the little tremble of her fingers.

She walked up behind the seated young thing and slowly began to fix his wig,
decided she should change his look and took it off. She then proceeded to
run her fingers over his scalp. He had never had his scalp massaged and
quickly fell into a kind of stupor. His limbs felt languid and he relaxed
the way he would after having shot a huge wad of cream out of his cock. He
was hornier and more excited than he had ever been in his life. Although not
normally excited by women, Jeremy's penis hadn't really softened after the
stimulation of the first portion of the photo shoot. He glanced down at the
huge tent created in the diaphanous folds of his pretty peach peignoir and
smiled to himself at his brazenness. He suppressed a giggle and Jean looked
at him in the mirror and inquired as to the reason for his merriment.

"Well, it's just that I've never been a girl before and this is all so new.
And here I am barely dressed with my penis sticking up and a large wet spot
spreading out from the tip and the most beautiful woman I've ever met is
rubbing my head and it is all so overwhelming. I don't know what to think...
I never knew I could feel this way."

"And what way is that my sweet young thing?"

"I don't know... I feel so sexual... so loose... so deliciously relaxed. I never
thought I'd look or feel so sexy... either as a boy OR as a girl. And yet, I
feel like it is all so natural. I feel like I never want this moment to
end... Does it have to end, Jean?"

Jeremy was looking up at Jean into the mirror with a pleading in his eyes
she had never seen on anyone before. Not that she was innocent about tgirls
or their needs. She had been part of Rod's group for years and had seen more
than her share of pretty little girlieboys and in fact, she had developed a
very real, very persistent and very demanding sexual hunger for pretty young
trannies like Jeremy. But this boy was different. He not only had her pussy
leaking juice down her inner thighs and had her nipples poking out through
the multiple layers of her bra and purple blouse as she watched him become a
sexy tease for the camera but he had her heart racing from the powerful
combination of his beauty, innocence and his obvious emotional confusion.

Had she known better, she'd almost think she was falling in love with this
little beauty.

"Impossible!" she thought to herself. "I'll seduce him and play with him
until he bores me just like I've done for years with every other sexy slut
who's come through our doors."

Jean had unconsciously started to push the back of Jeremy's head up against
the V of her thighs and the pressure was causing her to feel the urgency of
a cum creep up on her. Jeremy watched her in the mirror as she closed her
eyes and felt her fingers starting to push his head back against her
pudenda. He was entranced. This was the closest he had ever come to watching
a woman have sex and it fascinated him. He was also becoming highly aroused
by the smell of her sex as it filled his nostrils.

Jean had started humping her cunt up against his perfumed head and she was
getting so close... so close... Yes!!!! Oh, there it is... There's my sweet cum...
Unh!!!!! Oh fuckkkkkk... The throbbing of her release almost overwhelmed her
and she had to hold onto Jeremy's head by digging her fingers into his hair
to keep from collapsing in her euphoria.

Jeremy had felt her pussy throb rhythmically as she orgasmed. He had never
felt anything like it before. Yet it felt surprisingly close to his own
rhythmic pumping when he shot his wad. It was so exciting that before he
realized what had happened he felt his own cock explode and looked down in
wonder at the huge wet puddle he had left clinging to the inside folds of
his wrap.

After he had recovered a bit and while Jean was watching, Jeremy lifted the
hem of his peignoir up and glanced down at the mess his cum had left all
over his pretty feminine clothes. He watched in fascination as Jean reached
down from behind him and let her long nailed fingers scoop up the bulk of
his cum and then sweep it up quickly to her parted lips. He couldn't believe
that this stunningly beautiful woman would want to taste his seed. His heart
did a little flip in his chest as he realized just how much he had fallen in
love with her over the course of the morning. This last act of hers
confirmed for him that she must truly love him too.

He closed his eyes and smiled to himself and felt happier than he had ever
felt before in his life.

Jean leaned down and whispered into his ear, "Oh babydoll, your love juice
tastes better than I had imagined. I want more and I swear we're gonna have
fun together if you'll let me get my fill. Will you sugar? But that'll have
to wait. We need to get you ready for your next scene. OK? Don't fall asleep
lovergirl. We need to work together."


Chapter Four – Jeremy Looses His Innocence

After drinking some orange juice and looking at more prints, Jean gave
Jeremy's lips one last coat of lip gloss and he was asked to slip into a
pale blue satin chemise with a built in bra that barely covered his naked
bottom. He pulled on a matching thong and slipped on a light blue, mid-calf
length dress in silk with a pastel floral pattern and a back slit that went
up to his mid-thigh. He was not wearing stockings and slipped white patent
strappy sandals on his feet. His penis throbbed inside the thong. He went
back into the studio after an encouraging hug and kiss from Jean. He was
surprised to see two very big men wearing dressing gowns. One was a German
who was introduced to Jeremy as Kurt. He was over 6 feet tall and must have
weighed 220 pounds. He was extremely blond and wore his hair in a short
flattop the way athletes do. His eyes were the deepest blue Jeremy had ever
seen and he couldn't help but wonder if they were fake. Kurt was
unbelievably good-looking.

The other man's name was Brad. He was a black American, with a shaved head
and a body like professional wrestler. He was even taller than Kurt and he
had muscles that could only be the result of years of serious workouts in a
gym.

All through school Jeremy had hated jocks. They were the source of much of
the abuse he had taken and their confident displays of machismo made Jeremy
feel inadequate. Instinctively, he felt dislike and fear in front of these
two men but when they looked at him with obvious admiration mixed with
another expression that he later came to spot in all men as lust, he
remembered Jean's words and felt his confidence return.

Rod quickly got down to work.

"Jeremy, this is going to be a boy/girl thing ... just simulation. Let the
guys lead you and just respond naturally. You're a beautiful girl leading on
a couple of randy guys. Play off them. Tease them. Make them go crazy with
longing and need. Keep them on edge. Make them grovel. Be a woman, doing
what a woman does naturally."

Jeremy felt awkward when a nearly naked Kurt began by embracing him from
behind. He felt the German's warm breath on his neck as he leaned his lips
down to Jeremy's pale shoulders and lightly kissed them. Jeremy was even
more disconcerted when he suddenly felt Kurt's bikini covered and rapidly
engorging cock press up against his soft ass and try to rub up and down his
ass crack.

"Jeremy, cover Kurt's hands with your own and close your eyes. Make like his
kiss is burning your shoulder... that's great sweetie... now turn in his arms
and slip your arms around his neck... good... pucker your lips and turn your
head to the side... yes, that's it... now, simulate a kiss ... fabulous ..."

Jeremy soon relaxed and began to ad lib, much to Rod's approval. After ten
minutes with Kurt, Brad replaced him. Jeremy found it easy to imagine he was
a hot little girlie plaything being man-handled by these two brutes and
traded back and forth at their pleasure. He found that he loved the thought
that he was a girl and he was soon craving the feeling of the guys' arms
clasping him to them and their hands roaming over his clothed and lithe
body. He liked their bodies too and ran his hands over their firm, muscular
physiques. He reached in with his lips and licked the salty sweat off of
their pecs and nibbled their nipples and stuck his tongue in their belly
buttons and wherever his lips touched them he left a trail of lipstick
stains.

It was Brad who was told to remove Jeremy's dress and thong, releasing his
pink but very stiff 8" penis. Jeremy was now feeling very comfortable with
his nakedness as these two men clearly were worshipping him and because his
penis had been exposed during the earlier photo shoot. He had learned that
exposing his cock was the essential criteria of modeling for a T-girl
magazine. There was an extra element this time. Posing with the two men in
such an intimate way had aroused him and he soon felt reckless. The cocks of
the two guys had gone from being limp to being completely hard to going back
into a semi-limp state, depending on the situation they were in but he
couldn't help but notice that Brad's large black cock was swelling and
stiffening to a size he had only imagined was possible on a human being. Sex
was in the air and it was infecting Jeremy. Rod had told them to pose on the
bed. Jeremy lay on his back and Brad crouched over him bringing his face
close to Jeremy's. Jeremy could feel Brad's enormous fat, heavy cock resting
thickly on his thigh. Brad's pre-cum was dripping down through his stocking.
His mind was fuzzy and his throat dry. Brad hovered over Jeremy, their lips
barely an inch apart. Brad's warm breath fluttered over Jeremy's cheeks.

Jeremy could not remember who made the first move but in the next instant
their lips were crushed together and Brad's tongue was thrust into Jeremy's
mouth. Jeremy had never been kissed before, certainly not by a man, but he
was in the arms of a master and Jeremy's arms instinctively snaked up and
around Brad's huge shoulders and neck and his thighs opened and came up and
around Brad's tight waist so he could pull this big black brute closer to
him. Brad had fucked scores of lady-boys, some unwilling but most anxious to
be speared by his magnificent ebony rod. Jeremy was easy to take. Brad
expertly manipulated every erogenous zone of the sissy's body, quickly
turning his aroused and excited being into one suddenly consumed by an
intense desire to be impaled and fucked hard and impregnated.

When Jeremy became aware, through the mist of passion, that Brad's hard fat
cock was pushing into his anus he panicked and began to scream and struggle.
This was unexpected. He hadn't really thought about how males made love but
this was more than he had bargained for. He frantically tried to avoid the
cock but the head easily entered him and the moment it did his own penis
exploded in an orgasm that was painful in its force. Jeremy had never cum so
much in his life and the cum was pooling on the stomach of his blue chemise
and staining it. At the same time, Jeremy went limp from the overwhelming
pleasure of his orgasm.

Brad had been totally unconcerned by Jeremy's struggles and cries. He liked
it when pretty young men who liked to dress in bras and corsets and panties
and stockings wriggled and squirmed as his cock thrust into them. This cute
little white boy was especially hot and his ass was very tight. He thrust
hard and fast sinking the full length of his 11" organ into the soft buttery
asshole of the moaning Jeremy. Brad had been glad to accept Rod's invitation
to do the photo shoot. It had been more than a month since he had had a
piece of sissy ass. And he especially loved pretty, delicate, white sissy
ass. Rod had said this one was cute and it was a bonus that the guy was a
virgin too. Brad was soon ready to cum. He always came quickly the first
time in every session but he was unconcerned. Rod had promised him and Kurt
that they could have the sissy as long as they wanted. So he let his orgasm
go with six deep, quick thrusts, slamming his cock deep into Jeremy, filling
him with his warm, thick, sticky semen that coursed up and back down
Jeremy's rectum and squirted out of his anus which was stretched tightly
around Brad's ebony shaft. He pulled out of Jeremy leaving the now
well-lubricated butt hole for Kurt.

It had happened quickly, too soon for him to take in the full import of what
Brad had been doing to him, so that when Brad ejaculated Jeremy was still
getting his mind around the fact of being penetrated. At first he was
outraged at having his body so quickly and completely violated. He had
instinctively tried to move away from the cock entering his body. Then he
had squeezed his anus hard to try to expel the intruder. But Brad's weight
and strength overwhelmed him and after the third or fourth thrust his anal
muscles involuntarily relaxed and he sensed more than felt Brad's hard cock
plunge deep into him. He ineffectively pushed against Brad's hips as they
pounded against his groin and cried out.

"You bastard! ... Uuuggghh! ... Oh God!... Please...Uggh ... STOP! ... MMmmphh...Oooh
Jeez!!"

Brad gripped him in a bear hug as his massive body strained and shook in
orgasmic spasms. Sperm flooded into Jeremy. He felt a looseness and
slickness around the intrusion in his anus. He lay still, stunned as the
realization crept over him that he had just been impregnated. As Jeremy lay
under the gasping Brad, the last drops of semen entering his body, he looked
at the stiletto sandals on the end of his upraised stocking covered legs.
How feminine they were. He became conscious of the soft satin of his chemise
with its spreading wet cum stain and the stiffness of the built in bra
against his chest. Unconsciously he placed his hand on Brad's shoulder and
noticed the beautifully manicured fingernails shining with scarlet polish.
As these feminine images and sensations fused in his confused brain he felt
a deep current of desire spread through his body. Brad was pulling out of
him and the withdrawal of the stiff, thick cock was opening up an emptiness
inside him that he subconsciously resisted. A little gasp escaped him as the
tip of Brad's cock popped out of his tight anus.

Something had turned inside his brain when Brad ejaculated inside him.
Resistance had gone and was replaced by softness and a distinct desire to
yield. He felt profoundly feminine. As Kurt mounted him he spread his legs
and gathered the big German in his arms drawing him close. His anus opened
expectantly and a deep purr of contentment passed from his mouth as he
strained up to kiss Kurt's deliciously thin, hard lips and as he felt Kurt's
thick ramrod plunge easily into his relaxed rectum, slick with Brad's semen.

Kurt thrust with the energy of a powerful man trying frantically to release
his pent up sexual energy and Jeremy was the willing receptacle. His
hitherto unsuspected voracious sexual appetite had been now released and was
consuming his body in a rising fever of desire.  The strength of his sexual
hunger frightened him. He dug his nails into the flesh of Kurt's sides and
wrapped his silk covered legs around his waist and let the talons of his
high heels dig cruelly into the ass flesh of his stud. The cock inside him
seemed hardly big enough to assuage his desire though in reality it was 8"
long and almost as thick. As he strained to increase the sense and effect of
being penetrated, Jeremy was half aware of the sounds of copulation: the
rhythmic slapping of their bodies; the wet, squishy sound of Kurt's cock
plunging in and out of his slippery love passage; the rasp of Kurt's heavy
breathing and of his own moans and startled cries as the pounding cock
inside him touched off a fresh wave of desire; of the creaking of the bed as
it strained and shook under the stress of Kurt's powerful thrusts.

Sitting off on the side with Jean next to him watching all this hot action,
Rod was surprised at the rapid change in Jeremy. He had rarely seen such a
finely developed, raw sexual appetite in a hitherto completely innocent
young boy. His cock was hard and he was watching for an opportunity to have
a go at fucking Jeremy himself. He looked over at Jean and saw her dilated
eyes and the glistening drops of perspiration on her upper lip and he heard
her rasping, heavily charged breathing. He glanced down and saw her thighs
clenching rhythmically and he knew this young girlboy was something truly
special.

Jean had been his receptionist for a long time and was pretty jaded by it
all by now. It was a truly rare little thing who could break through Jean's
cynicism and get her worked up into a frenzy of lust merely by watching.
Normally, Jean had to be worked on pretty hard for anyone to break through
her ice-queen, show-me-what-you-got, bitch hardness. Jean was a taker, not a
giver. She knew her power over weak, horny men. And she used it to her
advantage. Fully.

That is what made her such a good dominatrix and the star of his other
publication. And here she was, experiencing her own sexual paradise at the
mere sight of this copulating, sexy little girlboy. He could tell she was
about to cum and he reached down and gently spread her thighs and slipped
his hand up between them to reach her incredibly wet gash. He lightly
pinched her clit and was just about to begin rubbing it when she convulsed
and gasped and clamped her thighs shut around his hand and groaned out her
lust and desire and need and release.

As Jean slumped in her chair, Rod turned back to focus on the hot fucking
that was taking place on the bed in front of him. He made sure that Rick was
getting it all on film as he knew the studs would not let him in on the
action until they had satisfied themselves. Brad was hard again and stroking
his huge black dick impatiently. As soon as Kurt had pumped his cream into
Jeremy, Brad replaced him. Rod seized his chance and kneeling beside
Jeremy's head, he pushed his stiff dick between the sissy's scarlet painted
lips, groaning as he felt Jeremy suck hard and energetically rub the
sensitive tip with his tongue.

Jeremy had ceased to be a thinking person. He was reduced to being a
mindless, sexually rutting animal. As Brad's massive erection reamed his now
well-lubricated rectum and Rod's swollen member oozed pre-cum onto his
tongue, he had become a completely sentient being. His mind had been
gradually shut down as his partners stimulated every erogenous zone in his
body and threw every sexual switch. He was completely aroused. His body
hummed with desire and his sexual seismometer shot off the Richter Scale.
Kurt and Brad had unknowingly unleashed a nymphomaniacal appetite, which had
hitherto lain dormant inside this conventional but effeminate young man.

Jeremy was so intensely aroused that he found it hard to breathe and panted
for breath as his body strained against Brad's thrusting hips to keep the
plunging cock deep inside his ass. He had progressed through a kaleidoscope
of contesting emotions from shock and pain at the first penetration, to
curiosity and wonder at the tightness and strangeness of the cock in his
anus, to dismay at the emptiness he felt when Kurt withdrew after
ejaculating, and then at the renewed joy that coursed through him when Brad
thrust into him a second time. When he felt Brad cum inside him it was as
through the pleasant sensations of femininity that he had felt when he put
on these wonderful clothes were being internalized. He instinctively moved
against Brad's jabbing cock in a way that increased the sensations Brad was
getting and these thrusts were bringing Brad to a quicker orgasm than he was
accustomed to on the second fuck. This bitch was really something!

Jeremy also exhibited an unsuspected talent for sucking cock, bringing Rod
to a quick but explosive climax which deposited heavy globules of thick
semen on Jeremy's tongue until he pulled out to deliver the rest of his load
all over Jeremy's painted face.

Jeremy was initially appalled at the pungent taste of cum and tried to spit
it out but Rod rammed his cock back into Jeremy's mouth until he was forced
to swallow it. The strong taste remained in his mouth as Brad continued to
fuck him and slowly it blended in with all the other sexual sensations
pulsing through his body. Brad had noticed Jeremy swallow Rod's cum and
decided to give him a taste of his too. He pulled out of Jeremy's ass just
as he was about to shoot his load and placed the tip at the opening of
Jeremy's ravenous lips. The little slut ate down his spunk in one gulp and
tried to lick up every last drop on his deflating cock.

When Kurt fucked him a second time he too came in Jeremy's mouth. Jeremy
accepted this third gusher with total abandon. When he felt Kurt's cock
swell and explode he reached down to his own stiff cock and stroked it just
enough to spew his own load all over his already wet chemise. Semen is an
acquired taste and Jeremy seemed to be acquiring a taste for it fast. He
wanted to bathe in it, to wallow in it, to drown in it.



Chapter Five – His New Life

Brad and Kurt were temporarily satiated and needed a rest. They left to get
some supper while Jean took the confused and over-stimulated Jeremy back
into the dressing room for some girl-talk and tenderness. Jeremy's
over-wrought emotions spilled out in a flood of tears as Jean hugged his
trembling body. She knew that if she wanted to take advantage of him, now
was the time to do it before he came down off his sex high.

She sat him down on the yellow and peach velour lounge that was there for
the models' use to rest between photo shoots. His breathing was still coming
in short pants and Jean noticed that his cock was still straining inside his
dripping wet thong. In fact, his entire body was dripping with the
accumulated sperm of the three men who had repeatedly violated his mouth and
rectum. As Jean quietly whispered in his ear to soothe and calm him, her
hands slipped in the sticky slickness of all that male spunk and its nutty,
erotic maleness hit her nostrils full force. It had a texture and an odor
that had never ceased to fascinate and stir her to the core of her being. It
thrilled her every fiber the moment she touched or smelled it and she could
feel her passion rising and her pussy dilating and beginning to ooze more
its own love juice... juice that was doing its usual magical job of
lubricating her cunt. Today was no different from any other time since she
had discovered men and their cocks at the tender age of 12. Her uncle and
her daddy kept her satiated and happy for many years before she became
serious about taking her sexual pleasure whenever, wherever and with
whomever she wanted. And today, she desperately wanted this young and sexy
creature.

She leaned down and began to slowly and languidly lick the cum off his face
and neck and chest. She found it deliciously sensual to be licking it off of
a gorgeously provocative girlboy like Jeremy. It turned her on to work for
Rod because she had developed a strong penchant and preference for soft
young things like this. Jeremy wasn't quite there yet physically, as he
lacked the large, perfectly shaped heavy breasts of a shemale which Jean had
grown to crave to meet her need for sucking, chewing, pinching, slapping and
biting. But what this little girlie-boy lacked physically was more than made
up for by his total descent into femininity and his soft girlish mannerisms.
Jean ached to make him hers.

She pushed him down onto his back on the chaise lounge and reached down to
his satin covered cock to free it from its silk and lace prison. The moment
it escaped the confines of his thong, Jeremy was vaguely aware that it grew
even larger than his normal 8". He was still groggy and unclear in his mind
as to what exactly was happening to him but somehow he knew that this state
of mind and being was what he was born to seek out in his daily activities
from this moment on. He felt completely reborn. Deep inside his very essence
he knew that he had become who and what he was destined to be the rest of
his life. And that he was performing acts of pleasure that he had been put
on this earth to perform. He had become the essence of the perfect female:
seeking only to please and give and in so doing, receive. His descent into
subservience was total and all-consuming.

All he could think of was performing whatever acts were asked of him in
order to please whomever he was with. He had lost all sense of himself, of
all that had happened, of whom he was with or where he was. But he knew this
was the most important day of his life. He knew he would never go back to
being Jeremy the boy student. He knew, deep inside, that he had become the
woman he had been destined to be/ And he knew that his only goal from now on
throughout his life would be to give: give himself pleasure, give others
pleasure, and give happiness wherever he could.

As Jean's cunt enveloped his throbbing cock, his mind crossed over into the
final erogenous zone. He had never felt such an all-consuming, total
pleasure. He had never thought anything like this was possible. After years
of fucking his satin or silk covered hand or humping the soft folds of
women's clothing, to feel this incredible silky smooth hot wet glove slip
down over his cock took him into another realm. This was so different from
the pleasure he got from being fucked in the ass or the mouth. This wasn't
anything like the pleasure he felt from having his hand (or anyone else's)
wrapped tightly around his penis and jacking it. This was mind-numbing and
he bucked back against her driving cunt with all his being.

" Ooooooo babydoll... Oh sugar... Unh... Yeah... Oh FUUUUUCK!!... That's
soooo good sweetie... Mommy needs that... You are sooooo hot baby... C'mon
dollface, give it to me... That's right... Fuck back hard... Oh yesssssssss...
Fuck hard... Faster baby... Faster... Pleeeeeease!!!!! Oooh shit, Mommy's
cumming... Ooooooo, can you feel Mommy cum? Can you feel me pulse and throb
and slick your hard girlcock with my goo? Mmmmmmmmmmmmm... I love you so
much sugar."


Later, after a warm bath, some kisses and lots of womanly advice Jeremy felt
better. Talking to Jean had helped him sort out his feelings. He recognized
that he wanted to be a girl, that he had loved sex with Brad and Kurt, and
that he wanted to do it again. But he also knew that he had fallen
desperately in love with Jean and that he had so much to learn and that she
would be his perfect teacher. He was too timid to broach the subject of his
future and how he wanted to spend it in her shadow, at her feet, worshipping
her.

Jean dressed him in a diaphanous pink silk floral print dress with a halter
neck and a mid-thigh length flared skirt. For the next hour Jean taught him
how to apply make-up and they tried different looks on him. The feminine
attention and the mental imprint of the sex he had just enjoyed made him
horny yet again. His anus had not returned to its customary tightness and
this gave him a sense of being `open' and he thrilled at the anticipation of
being filled up. His penis had become hard again and was straining against
the thin fabric of his new white panties. A lump was developing in his
throat and he began to pant slightly. Jean sensed what Jeremy was feeling
when Jeremy asked,

"When are Brad and Kurt coming back?"

"They should be here any minute and I know they'll be pleased to see you
looking so pretty for them. You know, if you're going to continue to dress
as a girl you should have a girl's name."

"I never thought of that. What do you think I should call myself?"

"Well it will make things simpler if it starts with a `J'. What about
Jennifer, or Jane?"

"Jennifer... I like that. I'll be Jenn."

Jeremy heard the outside door open and jumped up excitedly.

"That must be them."

"Yes, now before you rush in there, turn around and let me see how you
look."

She flicked the soft blond bangs of his new wig, dabbed perfume on his neck
and gave him a kiss.

"Off you go ... Jenn."

Jenn returned to the studio to find the studs talking to Rod. The three men
looked appreciatively at the pretty girlboy in his silk dress and white
stiletto sling-back sandals. They wasted no time. Brad gathered Jeremy in
his arms and Kurt, positioning himself behind Jenn, pulled his cock out of
his slacks and raised Jenn's skirt. The studs were hot again, having
compared notes over supper they had realized what a superb fuck Jeremy had
been. They returned to the studio with the intention of fully exploiting the
erotic potential of this gorgeous boy.

Jenn was shaking with sexual tension. This time he wanted to be fucked and
as each second passed his passion soared higher and threatened to get out of
control. He returned Brad's kisses vigorously and he gasped with sheer
delight as he felt Kurt's big phallus impale his anus. The intrusion brought
Jenn to a glorious climax as his ass was filled with hard male meat and
Brad's tongue probed his mouth. His stiff cock spasmed and spurted another
huge load of cum into his panties.

The two big-cocked men fucked Jenn hard for more than two hours, taking
turns in his anus and mouth, fucking him on his knees, on his back, against
the wall, and bent over a chair. Jenn sat on each stud's cock riding the
stiff poles, screaming with pleasure as the men smacked his buttocks urging
Jenn to ride faster. Jenn cried and gasped as the cocks thrust into him and
he mewled contentedly when the cocks spurted streams of semen into his
mouth. The pungent taste was now so strongly associated with his pleasure in
the sex act that he swallowed the ejaculate eagerly. Both men came twice
before leaving. Jenn spent the night in Rod's bed.

It was clear to all of the people who had witnessed the day's activities
that Jenn had become a sex addict and immediately, Rod started exploiting
Jenn's need. From that day onwards, Jenn never returned to school. Why
design dresses when he could wear them and get all the men he wanted and
needed? And better yet, was that Jean had quickly taught him that they would
pay him to dress up all sexy and slutty for them and they would pay more to
get at his tight little asshole.

Over the following two weeks Rod photographed and filmed Jenn with a
procession of studs while he fucked the pretty T-girl in his own bed at
night. Unbeknownst to Rod however, was the fact that Jean was fucking the
pretty little thing every day when she had him to herself in the dressing
room, which she had declared off-limits to Rod and to any of the male
"actors" brought in to fuck her pretty little girlboy. Jenn was torn between
loyalty to Rod for everything he had done for him and given him and to Jean
whom he idolized beyond thought. Rod gave him his womanhood and his freedom
to fuck men until he was numb from the excitement of taking cock and
drinking cum but Jean gave him tenderness and love, warmth and the softness
and pleasure of girl to girl sex.

Rod built up Jenn's wardrobe, bought him jewelry and cosmetics, took him out
on the town and to parties where Jenn could often find several paying
partners. His reputation as a fantastic lay was spreading and it was not
long before he was receiving invitations to parties in his own right. Yet
during this period, like a cub who doesn't stray far from the den, Jenn may
have frequently over-nighted in other men's beds but he would always
eventually return to Rod.




Chapter Six – The Perfect Masochists' Mistress

Jenn couldn't get enough sex. Any thought of working a regular job for a
living went out with his maleness. Now that he was a t-woman, he knew the
power he held over men and their money. Getting enough cash to live on and
to buy the life he wanted and needed was almost too easy. Jean was right.
Men were there to be used. He delighted in torturing them as they came under
his spell. He loved the fact that with men, when the little head got hard,
the big head went soft. It was so much fun to realize that he could get
anything he wanted from them once he got them horny enough. What was even
more fun was that they LOVED being manipulated by Jenn-the-bitch and giving
him everything he asked for. He had become so popular that he had a
scheduling problem and in order to get put higher up on the appointments
list he had taught them that gifts of money, clothing, jewelry, trips or
anything else of value would be most favorably looked upon.

And he exploited to the max the simple biological fact of male stupidity in
the face of their all-consuming lust. He was "earning" more than a $1000 per
night. He bought a large condo with a view of the river and asked Jean to
move in with him. She jumped at the chance to spend more time with her sexy
little Jenn, whom she had grown to love and think of as her own creation.

Within 6 months of Jenn's coming out, Jean had taken him to her plastic
surgeon and Jenn had had his 34C implants put in and had begun his hormone
shots. Not strong enough to take away his ability to get hard and cum his
usual copious amounts of thick creamy white jiz but just enough to keep his
doe-soft skin smooth and blemish free and keep his downy peach fuzz
completely off his body. He was the most beautiful girlboy she had ever
seen.

In fact, it was all Jean could do to keep from touching him whenever she
passed close to him. She knew she was infatuated like she had never been
before. She knew that the power she normally lorded over her lovers was gone
in the face of this young goddess. She got wet every time she caught even a
glimpse of her lover. She couldn't get over his flawlessly smooth skin or
his rich, luxuriant, naturally wavy tresses, now died a gorgeous strawberry
red, and cascading down to the tips of his upturned nipples.  When they took
their bubble baths together she swooned every time Jenn asked her to wash
his body. His perfect, high pointing, full and rounded 34C tits with their
2" wide, dark brown aureolas and ˝" long, fat and juicy nipples begged to be
suckled and bitten. His slim tapered waist that flared naturally out to his
boyishly lean hips and tight round buttocks was impossible to stay away
from. And his cock, which still hardened to its full 8", was the most
beautiful thing she had ever seen or sucked or fucked.

But best of all was that Jenn's transformation had brought out the bitch in
him: A complete and total dominant bitchiness and disdain for men that only
matched her own yet seemed entirely natural and thus all the more convincing
to his needy masochistic clients. They were so perfectly matched that it was
beyond her wildest dreams. She had despaired of ever finding another woman
who took as much pleasure in using and abusing men as she did. And to find
her perfect match with a gorgeous and always horny cock to stuff her pussy,
ass and mouth was heaven on earth.

Although Jean was Jenn's mentor in makeup, feminine deportment, sex and her
mocking cruelty towards men, it was Jenn who took the lead in choosing their
wardrobes and did all the shopping for clothing, shoes, accessories and
jewelry. Jenn's taste was impeccable. He had an unerring sense of style that
was both blatantly sexual and breathtakingly feminine. Jean had never known
anyone who could see the possibilities of combining various elements of a
wardrobe into something fresh and new the way Jenn could.

And Jenn was a real clothes' horse. In fact, he put to shame any other
shopaholic female that Jean had ever known. Their closets were overflowing.
It was as if, once his ability to wear the clothes he adored so much as a
young boy and fledgling designer was given sanction, he went crazy in the
doing. If he didn't go shopping every day before his first customer Jean
knew there was something wrong, took his temperature and put him to bed...
without sex that day!

His taste ran towards two separate but related themes:  the extremely
feminine but very whorish look and the delicate, flowing, super feminine
look. The first and most often worn look was very similar to the wardrobes
Julia Roberts wore in Pretty Woman or Erin Brockovich with lots of low cut,
open bodice, tight blouses and stretch tops that showed off his new tits and
their encompassing bras... and short, butt enhancing, dripping-with-sex,
skirts... shortie halter tops or strapless bandeau topped dresses. And
always there were the high heels: sandals, pumps, slip-ons, mules, ankle
boots, thigh high boots, platforms, wedgies... Hundreds of pairs of heels
overflowed their closets.

The second and more private look had flowing slit-up-to-mid-thigh skirts and
open necked gauzy blouses, elegant cocktail dresses from Versace or Escada
with body enhancing cuts. Just for fun there were a few open-bottom,
multi-gartered girdles and some hobble skirts. Jenn was as aware of fashion
and what made a woman sexual and alluring just as a man is aware of
breathing and needing to inseminate women. (One of his favorite outfits was
a skin tight, red leather pant with tiny bolero-styled, single clasp, black
satin jacket (worn with only a demi-cup bra to let everyone see the size and
shape of his tits). He knew that if he wore this outfit, Jean would have him
on his back and his cock in her mouth or pussy within minutes. And then
there was lingerie, lingerie, lingerie and more lingerie.

He kept his working wardrobe with its reliance on butter-smooth leather and
glossy PVC, studded collars and wrist bracelets, opera length PVC gloves,
latex stockings, ankle-locked stilettos and open crotched leather, PVC or
rubber panties carefully arranged in his dungeon.

Their lives were perfect. Languid mornings spent in bed fucking and sucking
until they were spent and satiated; afternoons of gossip-filled shopping or
primping at the beauty parlor getting facials, pedicures, manicures, hair
colorings, (whose only purposes were to accentuate their total sexual
essences) and nights going from one party to another or receiving one client
after another. All this they did together except the actual sexual sessions
they had with the men who paid for their services and although they were
inseparable, each of them had their own special clientele with their own
special needs

Jean was more aggressively dominant and preferred inflicting verbal and
physical humiliation and punishment. She wore only black with metal studs
and chains everywhere with heavy dark makeup that made her look as dangerous
to the men who craved her talents as she was. Her clients couldn't seem to
get enough of her services and several of them had to be scheduled at long
enough intervals so that their flayed skin had time to heal before going
under her lash again. The sissy slaves who kissed her feet needed the sting
of her whips and the thumping of her paddles and the cut of her canes to be
able to get even the smallest little hard on. Ecstasy for them came after
long sessions of unbelievable torture and humiliation. Jenn found it hard to
imagine there were men who needed and wanted the kind of harshness in their
lovers that she meted out but he had soon learned the high value men placed
on these services.

Jenn specialized in the men who needed their girls with that special extra
little something between their legs and he had found, under Jean's tutelage,
the special pleasure and the high pay of being a dominant ts bitch to men
who craved abuse; usually extremely rich, successful men who knew their
lives were a lie, that they weren't really the self-assured business,
medical or legal titans the world saw them as. These men knew they were
fooling their families and colleagues and that it was just a matter of time
before they were found out. They craved the punishment and humiliation that
Jenn would give them for the lies they lived on a daily basis. They needed
him to remind them that they were just the same naughty, cheating, lying,
unworthy little boys they were when they were young, except now their
misdeeds had far more drastic consequences in ruined businesses and lives
since they were grown up asset-strippers and robber barons and the games
they played during the business day were real and harmed real people.

These men begged him to spank them, slap them, call them filthy names and
humiliate them both privately and publicly when possible.  They desperately
needed to be abused both mentally and physically and Jenn was just the sexy,
horny girlieboy to do it. He started to think that men like this were the
norm, not the exception. He particularly loved making them get on their
hands and knees to crawl over to him in public places like gay bars or
trannie nightclubs and lift his skirt and take his hard cock into their
mouths and then publicly humiliate them by deflating and telling them how
worthless they were at the top of his voice, not only as fake businessmen,
but as potential sex partners since they couldn't even keep their own
lovers' cocks hard.

And then there were the men who needed such physical manifestations of the
lowness of their lives by having her take out her cock and pee on them,
letting the warm yellow liquid run down their faces to ruin their $2000
Armani suits and $400 Gucci shoes before he would stroke himself back to an
erection, start slapping their faces with his cock and then forcing them
onto their hands and knees and entering them from behind and fucking them
until they were mindless, blubbering, sex-crazed, submissively masochistic
idiots.

But he was still young and impressionable and his senses reeled at the
overwhelming passion and force of desire that coursed through these men.
Their needs seemed so powerful and the rawness of their desperate sexuality
took him from the peak of one mind-numbing thrill to next. It would have
been impossible for anyone so new to the world of sexuality, let alone the
steamy eroticism of forbidden sexuality, to remain unmoved or uninfluenced
by what he saw and heard and did and experienced.

Yes, the power of his control over these men and their needs was a powerful
aphrodisiac and he often found himself getting erections and spurting
copious amounts of cum without a single stroke to his cock just from the raw
sexuality of whipping a man's cock and balls until they would soil
themselves with their own cum. So it was inevitable that such a young and
impressionable girlieboy would be influenced by what he was doing. And
before long it became clear to him that he was enjoying inflicting pain to a
degree that wasn't healthy but was too sensually fulfilling to stop. He had
to admit that through all of this he had developed his own little needs;
needs he never told Jean about and would never tell her about.

He soon learned that he some of his biggest thrills came when his clients
turned the tables on him. When after a long, hot, fuck, suck and cum-filled
session with the most servile masochists, he would let them take out all of
their own pent-up rage, deeply seated frustrations and perverted,
masochistic needs and desires on his available and exposed body. He secretly
reveled in their overwhelming need to spank him, slap him, spit on him, pee
on him, whip him and fuck him raw after he had done the same things to them.
He had to admit that he had developed a taste for masochistic behavior and
he was at the highest peak of ecstasy when his clients would spew their
slimy goo up his ass and into his heavily painted mouth after they had told
him what a filthy, worthless, disgusting, foul,
good-for-nothing-but-walking-the-street gutter whore he was while whipping
his ass and cock and balls to the point where the pleasure overwhelmed the
pain. He felt complete and fulfilled during these perverted sex sessions in
a way he could never feel with Jean. These sessions of raw lust and power
and need and hunger took him to the edge of human sensation, to the point
where anything less left him unsatisfied.

He loved cumming up their rectums, imagining that he was impregnating them
with his seed, and the thought of sending them home with his cum leaking out
of their butts onto their shorts to raise questions in their wives' minds
about what they did and with whom they did it on those nights when they
"worked late" sent electric jolts of pleasure up his spine. And the prices
he charged were astronomical. Ridiculous actually, since he would have done
it for free. For Jenn craved and needed men and their adoration and the
validity they gave him with the lustful reality of their hard cocks and the
stinking, slippery, sticky, gooey, spunky jiz they deposited inside him and
on him just as much as these special men needed him.

Judge Bill Stone was one of Jenn's favorite clients. Three to four times a
week the Judge would call Jenn's work number and beg for an appointment.
Jenn loved creating as much risk and tension in his male admirers as
possible and he knew that Judge Stone had a wife and three daughters waiting
at home. In order to test his power over the Judge he often made
appointments for as late in the evening as he felt like.

Tonight they were scheduled to meet at 11 PM, which meant that they wouldn't
be done until at least 1AM, well past the hour any decent husband would have
returned home. Jenn giggled at the thought of his little Billy-boy going
home to momma with cum dripping out of his rectum and staining his shorts,
his wrists and ankles rubbed raw from the shackles that he favored, his
hands, arms, back and chest striped with the welts from his riding crop. But
what he loved thinking of most was Bill returning to his wife smelling of
that odd mixture of the expensive French perfume Jenn preferred wearing and
of his cum highlighted by the fecal remains from Bill's rectum. What in the
world did these men tell their wives, he wondered. And how in heaven's name
did they believe the stories they were being fed?

52 year old Bill Stone parked his car carefully in the private parking stall
Jenn kept reserved in his condo for his clients. Bill's heart had begun to
race the moment he entered the familiar, dark cavern of the garage and he
had to sit in his car to quiet his nerves before venturing for the third
time in less than a week into this private world of pleasure that was so
exquisite he could barely come down off the high it gave him before he felt
the need to return. As he pressed the button to Jenn's condo he imagined the
sight and smells that would greet him and his entire body began to shake. He
had to laugh at himself with a bitterness that rose to his throat. He knew
he was every bit as addicted to the incredibly sordid, perverted world of
S&M sex that he had discovered at the feet of this teenaged shemale bitch
queen as any of the hundreds of drug addicts who sat in his court shaking
from not getting their fix. Here he was, making his third trip up Jenn's
elevator in less than a week, with his heart racing, a light sweat shining
off his face and his entire body shaking from need and want.

Every time he tried to stop seeing Jenn and renounce this sick need, he
would last at most three days before he would break down with a sob, admit
his addiction, pick up the phone and make another appointment. How had this
happened to him? How had a well-respected Judge become so physically and
mentally addicted to this hot little sheboy minx that filled his thoughts 24
hours a day? He now knew more than anyone what inner needs drove the crack
and heroin addicts he saw in his courtroom; addicts who committed crime upon
crime to satisfy the demons within themselves. Would he end up the same way?
Would he be reduced to spending all of his waking hours attempting to fill
this aching need regardless of all consequences?

What was it about the high he felt whenever he was in the presence of his
bitch mistress that he would risk his entire career, his reputation, his
family just for another hit of Jenn's love-juice. All of these thoughts
flooded through him again as he rode the elevator up to the familiar
pleasure den he dreamed of night and day. His penis was slowly filling with
surging blood and stiffened in his pants. It had started to tent out his
right pant leg and as he reached down to lift it up so that it could lay
flat against his stomach, he let out an audible groan and had to steady
himself against the back of the elevator to keep himself from staggering as
his desires overtook his entire being. He knew he could never give up the
pleasure he got from his shemale mistress. He could never go back to being
satisfied with the boring, vanilla flavored, in-and-out, missionary sex his
wife expected from him and that he was increasingly unable and unwilling to
deliver. Not after feeling the surge of endomorphines that filled his body
the moment he caught a glimpse of the PVC outfits clinging to Jenn's
feminine form; not after feeling the release from all the cares of the
world, and all of the pressures he had to face daily, once he experienced
the first sting of the crop or heard the first verbal humiliation that
escaped his lover's soft, moist, perfectly painted lips; not after feeling
the serenity that came with being stripped, shackled and abused by his
goddess Jenn.

As the elevator doors opened, he had assumed the position he knew was his
place; that of being on his knees with his hands behind his back and his
head bowed. It was the smell as much as anything else that hit him and sent
him into his world of pleasure the moment the doors to the condo opened. It
was an odd, sweet mixture of exotic insense, expensive perfume, feminine
cosmetics, soft, worked leather, vanilla scented candles and something he
wasn't told about until much, much too late for him to fight or resist:
opium smoke.

Jenn had learned this trick from Jean who had used it for years to enslave
her clients and keep them coming back for more without them ever being aware
of it. Jenn, on the other hand, loved to make sure the humiliation of his
clients was total by telling them that they were not only addicted to the
pleasure his big-cocked, feminine charms could bring them but to the opium
their bodies began to crave after the third or fourth visit. He would laugh
at their consternation, especially when they announced their indignation at
being so ill treated, that came from knowing they were drug-addicted,
sex-addicted weak sniveling males. Jenn loved knowing that the combination
of smells that greeted his clients sent them into a stupor from which they
could not escape and to which they would always return.

Jenn and Jean cleverly avoided addiction themselves by making sure all of
the opium smoke was vented into the reception hall. All of their sex pets
were made to kneel in the carpeted private elevator whose doors were left
open to the reception area. The 20 minutes they were made to remain kneeling
while breathing in the perfumed, heavily addictive and highly intoxicating
air served the twin purposes of clearing out the residue of opium smoke and
of making sure there was enough time to let the opium weave its magic on the
dreams of their victims. They wanted to be certain their men had slipped
into that semi-conscious state where they could do nothing but dream about
the pain and the pleasures that would be theirs in a few moments. As the
minutes passed the sexual tension built while the narcotic took hold of
their reason and altered their judgment and allowed them to lose themselves
completely in the dream-like pleasures that were to come.

Bill's self-loathing and self-contempt at this weakness in his soul and of
his flesh, which had reduced him to a state of addictive need, overwhelmed
him. As he knelt and the opiates took a hold of his brain and his cock
engorged to its full, thickly throbbing length, he couldn't help but giggle
at his predicament.

"Ohhhhhh God, yessssssssssssssssssssssss... Oh fuck... I love this feeling...
I've never felt anything so gooooooood... So right... So unbelievably
sexual... Every time I come here it gets BETTER...  I hope he comes soon... I
wonder what he'll be wearing... I need his touch. I need his love... I need
his tits and cock and piss and cum... I hope he is in a rage tonight... I
hope he humiliates me and degrades me tha way I deserve to be...  I need to
be abused and humiliated and fucked hard and forced to suck his cum or take
it up my sissy ass... My ass-pussy is so empty... So lonely... So unhappy when
it isn't stretched by his girliecock... Giggle... I wonder what my colleagues
or the voters would say if they saw me like this?"

Bill laughed out loud and brought his right hand around to caress his
enormous prick through his pants. He desperately wanted to unzip them and
snake his hand into the opening to bring his fat 7" out so he could stroke
it unfettered by the material of his pants. He did it and had no sooner
begun to masturbate himself over its entire length starting at the spongy,
soft head and slipping past his hyper-sensitive glans to feel the strange
soft-hardness of his desire-steeped and drug-crazed shaft when Jenn walked
into the reception area, strode over to his kneeling form and viciously cut
the back of his hand with a well-aimed flick of his riding crop.

"Did I give you permission to touch yourself, you filthy, horny, disgusting
little boy?"

Bill was paralyzed with fear and shock at the sting of both his words and
his crop. "No, mistress. I apologize, mistress. It will not happen again,
mistress."

"Then see that it doesn't you piece of worthless scum and put your hands
where they belong... NOW, you pig."

Bill returned his hand to behind his back as he felt the cuffs slip around
his wrists and had to bite his lip to keep himself from crying out in pain
as the riding crop whipped across the throbbing hardness of his penis and
barely flick against his tightened ballsack. But the odd thing about a true
masochist is that at the same time that he is feeling the unbearable pain of
the crop, he is also feeling an incredible rush of pleasure. His brain
registers the "rightness" of being punished for being the filthy, lewd,
drug-addicted, penis-whore that he was just milliseconds after registering
the pain. Bill felt the surging pleasure boil through his system and add to
the incredible hardness of his throbbing cock. He had needed to be here for
days and only now did he feel "at home" and content with who and what he had
become.

He drank in the sight of his cock-mistress and although having day dreamed
of Jenn and anticipating the pleasure he and the opium would bring him, Bill
was unprepared for the incredible eroticism of the creature standing in
front of him waiting to be worshipped.

Jenn had gone all out tonight to make sure that Bill would never forget how
lucky he was to be allowed to grovel at his feet. He had bathed just as
carefully as always and had rubbed his hormone-softened skin with his
favorite perfume scented skin cream: Givenchy's "Indecence". He then talcum
powdered his tiny little pubic patch, his smooth underarms and the vee of
his silken thighs. He was in a very pink mood tonight and so, after draping
his shoulders with a see through pink chiffon peignoir, he sat at his vanity
and did his makeup, emphasizing his eyes by applying his violet Lancome
eyeliner to the inner edge of his lower lid as well as taking long, thin
lines out past the ends of his eyes on both the top and the bottom lids. He
then applied three coats of thick violet mascara onto his long lashes and
finished his lids with progressive shades of plum to pink; a quick dab of
black pencil to the mole in the middle of his right cheek; some plum blush;
and then he carefully outlined his lips well past his lip line with a dark,
almost black, plum liner to make them as full as they could possibly be
before finishing off with a rich, lustrous, frosted, plum-red lipstick and
topping his luscious lips with a deep, lustrous gloss coat.

He brushed out his now breast-length strawberry blonde hair and pinched his
nipples hard to make them burn with pink color and stand erect. He pulled
lightly at the large gold hoops that had been pushed through the nipples and
felt the immediate alarm of pleasure rush to his cock. He rose and sauntered
over to his walk-in closet and slowly picked out his uniform for the
evening. He slipped on a pink satin, heavily boned corset that started just
above his pubic hair and ended just below his fat nipples. He attached the
drawstrings at the back to his cinching hooks and pulled away until he felt
his waist constrict to less than 24". He reached back and tied the strings
off then slipped on a wispy, see through pink thong, gently enfolding his
large cock and hairless balls into its front vee. He never bothered
"tucking" as so many other tgirls did because he understood that the reason
his clients came to see him was the very fact he had a huge cock that still
got hard and still pumped copious amounts of cream out when he orgasmed.
He slipped into a pair of white, seamed stockings which he attached to the 6
frilly garters hanging off the bottom of the corset after he'd slipped them
under the thong and then put on his thigh-high pink PVC boots with their
6"white heels and 2" white platforms. He loved these boots because of the
way they laced up the entire front with white satin ribbons.

His tits were forced up and out from the pressure of the corset top and he
loved the way the golden hoops hung down over the top edge of the
restrictive satin garment. He turned to work through the 20 feet of outfits
hanging in his closet and lifted his pink PVC nurse's uniform off its
hanger, slipped it onto his frame and buttoned up the front of it, leaving
the bottom two buttons undone so it opened to expose his wispy panty covered
cock as his thighs moved when he walked. Its bodice was scooped low enough
so the tops of his nipples could be seen. He lifted his white PVC nurses cap
onto blonde tressed head, pinned it in place and put on his white PVC
shoulder length gloves. After a quick check in the mirror, he picked up his
nurses bag and strode out to greet little Billy.

As soon as he had established dominance over his client by hitting his hands
with the crop and cuffing them behind his back, Jenn had put the collar and
leash onto his neck and pulled him into the "hospital" room. Locking the
leash to a wall hook, he uncuffed the Judge and told him to strip naked.
Jenn loved this part of their sessions and always got his first enormous
erection from the slow exposure of Bill's fabulously sexy body. Hard from
working out, with a soft, thick "T" of hair rising from his pubes to his
chest, Jenn gasped anew at the broadness of his muscled shoulders and chest,
the flatness of his stomach and the sheer enormity of his blood-engorged
tool. It had to be 9" of cut, pink, meat, satisfyingly thick so that it
would make him feel "full" when he was being fucked up his rectum but not so
huge that it would cause discomfort. Jenn started to get excited and raised
his crop again so that it landed with a slap on his buttocks.

"You perverted scum... What drives you to degrade yourself this way, you
horny, sick, trannie chasing cock-hound? Can't get enough of sexy little
Jennie's tits can you? You dream of running your fingers through my hair
don't you? You probably think about me every time you help brush out your
daughters' hair too, you sick, cock-hungry, "upright" citizen. But what you
really need is this, isn't loverboy?"

And once again he thrilled at the sight of a grown man standing nude in
front of him, shaking with need, sweat breaking out all over his brow, cock
fully erect and pumping up and down to the rhythm of his heart beat,
groaning out his hunger and need as Jenn spread the two sides of his dress
to fully expose his panty covered girlcock. Bill Stone couldn't stop
shaking. He looked up into his Mistresses eyes and begged her to punish him
for his sick desires and his overwhelming needs.

Two hours and a huge enema followed by a long, sensuous butt-fuck later,
after many sessions of spanking and whipping, binding and cuffing,
humiliation and torment, after the Judge had shot one huge load of cum all
over his chest and stomach which had crusted over while drying where it had
been left, and Jenn had deposited his first enormous load of the evening up
his colon,  Jenn was still looking unruffled and immaculate in her PVC
nurse's uniform. She was lying on a chaise lounge with her legs spread and
in the air while Judge Stone was on his knees with his ankles tied together
and his wrists bound behind his back, moving his salivating mouth from
Jenn's 8" cock to his pink little asshole, alternating between blowing him
and rimming him. All the while, Jenn was using his short cat to whip his
back hard enough to sting but lightly enough not to break his skin. The
sound alone of his groans and grunts of pain from the whipping he was
receiving was taking Jenn almost over the edge so he pushed Judge Stone away
and got to his feet. He didn't want to cum this way. He much preferred to be
the object of his clients' frustrations and anger when he finally freed them
after hours of sexually tormenting them.

Jen could feel the tension and need to release rising in this little
pain-slave. He was also feeling the incredible need that grew in him over
the course of these sessions to be abused himself and shown how much
pleasure can be derived from pain. He kept repeating in his low sexy voice
the kinds of humiliations he knew Judge Stone needed to be driven to the
height of sexual anger.

"Cock hungry cum boy! Queer bait... Yeah huney, you love my cum dripping out
of your ass, don't you big baby? Gonna take it all home to Momma so she can
suck it out of you and feed it back to your hungry mouth?..... She'd like
that wouldn't she?... Cuz she's just a hot little cum whore... Or didn't you
know?..... Oh... Silly me... Did I spill something?... Wasn't I supposed to
tell you about her afternoons whoring her hot little body on the streets for
her crack money?.... Didn't you know that Billybouy's wife is a crack
whore?...... Oh yeah, she loves sucking cock... She loves buying her rocks...
She loves smoking them in darkened tenements and letting animal after animal
take her in her ass and cunt and mouth... And oh lover-boy... You should see
her fuck that great dane... Yeah... on her hands and knees... Legs spread...
his 10 inch prick thrusting in and out of her pussy... and then after cumming
the need for her to stay coupled so her pussy isn't ripped open by his
knot..."

"Or is my little baby gonna go into his daughter's rooms so he can watch
them play with themselves for him while he jacks off? Huh, baby?..... Is
that what you like? Or maybe you need me to come to your chambers to relieve
your needs every day... Oooooo, how much fun!!!!!!    I could come out with
you into the courtroom with your cum dripping off of my face and announce to
them how relaxed you are and ready to hear their cases... And lift up my
skirt to show them what you'll be thinking of while they're pleading for
their lives... Yeah, babydoll... Wouldn't that be fun?.... You fucking little
pig... You are such a filthy worm, aren't you? A scum eating little worm. You
no good, lousy, opium addict... You are such a sick, cock-hungry, cum slut...
Hmm? Maybe we need to take a little drive and go down to the meat district
so you can walk the streets to beg the gayboys to let you suck the thick,
hot cum out of their cocks?.... Doesn't that sound like fun? And I can be
there to open their pants and jack them to full erection and stuff their
tools into your mouth and whip your little pansy ass while you take them to
heaven..."

Jenn knew just when to reach down and undo his ankle and wrist binds so that
he would stand up and slap him hard across the face and then pinch his
nipples and pull his nipple rings till he was standing. Jenn loved it when
the Judge got angry. He loved being taken over his knee and having his dress
lifted up over his ass and feeling the hot, hard, brusing whacks of his hand
coming down onto his up-turned ass. He loved having his asscheeks spread and
feeling the long, hard thrusts of his client's fingers pushing in past his
sphincter and opening up his ass in readiness of the huge, throbbing,
cum-filled prick that would be following soon.

He thrilled at being thrown down onto the floor and having the large bolster
from the chaise tossed under his pelvis so his ass was thrusting up into the
air. His cock would rise to its full height inside his thong as he felt the
spit and lube being massaged into his asspussy and then he would nearly
faint from the feel of his thong material being pulled aside and his lover's
weight pushing down onto him until the pulpy, thick head of his cock had
pushed in past his ring of muscle.

He would thrill to the sound of his lover telling him what a dirty, filthy,
cuntless, queer boygirl he was... That he was the lowest scum on earth, good
only to be a receptacle of all the cum that men could give him... That he
should be working the streets and fucking openly in the back alleys of
Manhattan... That he should be a crack-smoking, heroin-shooting, drugged out,
gutter girl... Doing porno movies in exchange for the drugs he obviously
needed and wanted...

"Here it comes, bitch whore... Daddy is shooting his stuff... Oh yeah,
Jenn-the-jiz-queen... Billy has what you need... Oh baby... Come and get what
Daddy has saved for his slut bitches asscunt..."

The fucking never lasted long enough. The hard, ball-slapping thrusts of his
client's lusting, hammering fucks would barely begin it seemed and the hard,
stinging slaps of his hands brutalizing his upturned asscheeks would barely
start to register in his sex-clouded brain before he would feel his
love-pussy expand as the Judge's cock grew to its bursting point and then
pulse with each hot gob of man-jiz pumping into his stretched rectal canal.

He would lie there in his stupor as he felt the cock soften and pull out
past his sphincter and the wetness of the head leave a trail on the inside
of his asscrack. He would be paralyzed with satiated lust and sexual need
and could do nothing other than lie there and listen as the Judge would get
up, gather his things, get dressed and walk back out to the elevator to go
home to his loving and unsuspecting wife. And while every time he left, Bill
Stone hated himself for having come at all, let alone allowed this
disgusting half woman, half man to say the vile and filthy things he had
said or perform the vile and mind-numbingly filthy acts he had performed, he
knew deep in his soul that within a day or two his insatiable desire, his
unquenchable need would drive him right back.

And Jenn would stay where he had left him on the floor, feeling his lover's
cum slowly leak out of  his ass and dry into a cold, crusty mess on his
thighs and balls and pelvis until he would roll over and slip one of his
stockings down and off his leg. He would then bunch it up and slide it down
over his rock-hard cock until the spongy cockhead hit the toe. He would then
slowly jack his girlcock through the silky softness of the stocking all the
while reliving the physical and verbal abuse he had just suffered until he
had to spew every last bit of sweet cum-custard out to be caught in the
folds of his stocking and his mind would go over the edge into the void of
oblivion that the evening's session and his cumming would induce in him.


Chapter Seven – Jean's Need for Power

Jean could sense the change in her lover as time progressed. Jenn had begun
to make more appointments to the point of filling up his schedule so that he
barely had any time left to spend with Jean, either for their morning bed
and bath sessions or their afternoon shopping and salon sessions. Nor did he
seem to want to take the time to pay even lip service to her emotional and
physical needs let alone take the time to physically attend to them. It
seemed to Jean that he had become addicted to the sex he was having with his
clients and no longer wanted or needed to be with her. Worse yet was that
Jenn had found that he enjoyed parading his clients through the condo and
using the entire space for his sex sessions. Why not? He owned the place.
Jean could just clear out if she didn't like it.

He seemed to be purposefully denying her any privacy. He liked letting his
slaves go through his entire wardrobe in case anyone wanted to have him
dress in a particular style. He also loved tempting them with a view of
Jean's wardrobe, whips, canes, restraining devices and all of the other
hardware of sadism she had in her dungeon so they could choose whatever
torture met their needs on any given day. He loved fulfilling his customer's
deeper, darker needs because he knew the tables would be turned and their
fury would be slackened on him at the end.

Jean was often forced to share the apartment during those long evenings
listening to the verbal abuse and the moans of pain and lust and ecstasy
that emanated from Jenn's "pleasure room". It had become more and more
evident over the months that Jenn no longer needed Jean as he had at first;
that he was becoming more independent, more self-confident, and more in
control of his own destiny and Jean had grown resentful at being pushed to
the sidelines. She watched her sweet little boygirl turn into a real bitch
and the irony escaped her and left her non-plussed. Jenn made his plans
without regard to Jean's schedule or her ideas on what might be fun for her
to do on any given day. Oh, they still had an occasional morning together
that helped take the edge off of Jean's sexual hunger but there wasn't the
same intensity or sense of sharing. And it was often more done out of a
sense of duty than of pleasure which was perhaps the biggest insult of all.
As a result, Jean's jealousy grew to the point where it was taking over her
entire waking time.

"I'm losing him and I don't want to. He owes me. I made him into what he has
become. Yet I can't let him go. He is the most exciting creature I've ever
met and I want him at my side and between my legs always. I miss him. I miss
our time alone. I miss the sharing and I miss the sex. I have to think of a
way to keep him. If I don't do something now, it'll be too late for me to
ever lure him back to my bed."

In the sordid world of pornographic "modeling" and film-making, Jean had
learned about the seamier side of life in New York. Almost all of Rod's male
and transgendered film stars and many of his financial backers and producers
had secrets they kept well hidden from society but had no problem revealing
to their pleasure-seeking peers in the porn business. Jean's role as
receptionist, makeup artist, costume designer and art director let her hover
in the shadows where she became invisible and her presence was often taken
for granted by the many men and women on the set. She was allowed to see
things that even Rod wasn't aware of.

The amount of cocaine, downers, uppers and even heroin that were being used
to get "up" for a scene or come down off of a high was staggering to her.
Her very first exposure was etched in her memory and she later got to hear
the full sordid story:

Early in her career, soon after Rod had hired her, she had just finished
applying a darling young 16 year old transvestite's makeup and was putting
away the tools of her trade, when Mitch Barker, Rod's 60 year old
co-producer on this film, slipped into the room, knelt before the young,
horny starlet and pulled out a large vial of white powder. He poured some
out onto the glass vanity top, arranged it into four long lines and handed
little Sarah Turner a short plastic straw.

"Time to get into gear, baby." Mitch announced.

Sarah cooed and giggled and excitedly bent down over the lines of coke and
quickly snorted two of them up into his nose.

"Oh, FUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!!!!  Mmmmm YES!!!!!! That shit is sooooooo good,
babydoll... (giggle)... Daddy is so nice to his little girl... You are such a
good lover, aren't you huney???............ But Daddy does it for a reason,
doesn't he sweetie?...... Little Sarah knows why he does it... Don't I,
dollface?...... What does my big, perverted, sex-starved Daddy need his
pretty baby to do to him to thank him?....... Hmmmm, baby?......And while
you are thinking about that, does Daddy need some of this lovely poo-powder
too or is all for your little girlie-boy?"

Whereupon, Mitch took the straw from Sarah's long nailed, pink-tipped
fingers and snorted the remaining two lines deep into his nose. Laughing and
giggling, Sarah stood up, molded her tiny little 5 foot tall frame against
his 6 foot tall, toned body, put her arms up around Mitch's neck and pulled
his lips hungrily down onto his own.

After a long, wet, erotically charged and pelvis grinding  kiss, Sarah
pulled Mitch's head back from his perfectly made up face roughly by his gray
hair and said, "So, Daddy's hot and hard is he? Daddy thinks he can just
bring out his pleasure powder and get his little girl all juiced up on his
fun-drugs and turn him into a hot and bothered little teen whore?
Hmmm?......... And what is it that Daddykins wants his little babygirl to do
for him? You need to feel my soft fingers on your big, fat, cum-filled cock?
Huh?..............  Just like this? Hmmmm?.... Doesn't it feel good
Daddy?.... Don't you like how your little baby girl Sarah knows just exactly
what to do to get you hot and hard and needing the softness of my touch?
Huh?....... Tell me? Don't you like it? Don't you need it? Don't you crave
it?"

As Sarah was talking this way to Mitch his slim little hand had reached
down, unzipped his fly and snaked out of his pants his long, hard,
blue-veined cock. It was enormous and although Jean had seen it several
times before (and had sucked and fucked it herself as well) she was always
taken aback at his size. Probably 9 inches long and at least 7 inches around
it literally throbbed as it stood out straight from his open pants. Sarah
was giggling as his hand lightly slid up and down his older lover's cock.
Mitch was whimpering out his need and slowly humping his hips into Sarah's
jacking fist.

"You know how to take care of your Daddy don't you, you sexy little boycunt
whore?.... You fucking little junkie whore... You love Daddy's fat cock,
don't you?..... You love getting high on Daddy's drugs and sucking and
fucking Daddy til he shoots his load up your tight pussy ass, don't you,
cunt?.... Don't you?"

Sarah closed his eyes when he heard Mitch talk like that to him. He reveled
in the degradation and the humiliation of being this older man's drug
addicted whore... his toy... his girlcocked, fuck queen... Sarah knew that as
long as he was sexy enough to satisfy Mitch's need for young teen slut
girlboys, he could count on being able to get as high as he needed, whenever
he wanted. He was soooo glad he had been caught by this mature older man 2
years previously when he was dressed in his mother's panties, bra and tight
little stretch dress and was sucking off his best friend Dennis in the dimly
lit corner of their building's parking garage. He had been a terrified
little 14 year old who wasn't really even sure why he loved dressing like a
girl and sucking boys' cocks, yet he felt only thrilling pleasure when Mitch
had told Dennis to beat it and had taken him roughly by the arm to his car
and had driven him to a plush appointed apartment way downtown below the
meat district on the lower West side.

Sarah hadn't been afraid because he knew Mitch. He was the nice older man
who lived in their building and was an acquaintance of his mother's. But it
was a little creepy that Mitch hadn't said a word and Sarah was so
intimidated he was afraid to ask what was happening.

Upon their arrival, Mitch said, "Go get undressed and then come into the
bathroom. I will run a tub for you."

Sarah had been made to soak in a deliciously perfumed bath and even though
he only had peach fuzz on his legs and arms, he had been shaven completely
smooth by Mitch. As he was forced to stand up in the tub and turn to face
this older man, he instinctively covered his genitals. This movement was
abruptly stopped by a hard slap to the face.

"Keep your fucking hands to your sides. I'll tell you what to do and when to
do it."

Sarah started whimpering but couldn't stop himself from getting a raging
erection as he was being inspected by Mitch and asked to turn around slowly.
Mitch proceeded to shave every little hair off of his genitals and from
under his arms. Luckily there was no other hair to remove. At 14 he had
begun to go through puberty but it hadn't gone far enough to cause his beard
or body hair to grow other than around his penis and under his arms and with
the barest amount of soft peach fuzz everywhere else.

But the slap had terrified him and he had frozen. He couldn't move. He
didn't know what to do. Would this man hurt him? Was he going to die? He
started to cry and shake and was completely petrified. He was
hyperventilating when Mitch told him to get into the bedroom and put on the
outfit that had been left for him there by Mitch before he'd come into the
bathroom. The young boy couldn't move. Mitch finally had to carry the boy
into the bedroom and laid him down on the bed.

"Look, I am not going to hurt you. But now that I know what kind of boy you
are and what kinds of things make you happy, I will take care of you from
now on. Don't worry about your mother. I will arrange that as well. But you
have to do what I tell you to do. OK? Have I made myself clear?"

Sarah had merely curled into a fetal position and remained silent. Mitch
sighed and said, "Ok huney, I'll get you a little something to take the edge
off of things. You're just a little scared that's all."

He went to a drawer of the vanity and pulled out a plastic container of
Opium perfumed talc. He also took out a little medicine kit and Sarah had
watched in fascination as he put some of the talcum powder into a spoon and
lit a lighter under it until the powder seemed to turn into a liquid. He
then sucked the liquid up into a syringe, walked over to little Sarah,
pulled his foot out from under him and proceeded to give him an injection
between two of his toes.

Within seconds, Sarah had felt flushed and warm and so light and deliciously
relaxed that he had started to giggle and rolled over onto his back and
reached up his hands and said,

"Oooo, Mr. Barker, I feel wooooooonderful. Mmmmmm, how can I thank you?
(giggle) I bet I know what Mr. Barker wants, don't I?" (giggle)

And with that he had gotten onto his knees and pulled the clothes that were
laid out on the bed over to him and slowly dressed himself in them. First he
slipped on the pink satin corset with black feather fringe and black laces
that Mitch obligingly cinched up as tight as he could. Then he bunched the
pink, seamed hose and slipped first one and then the other slowly up each
leg and attached the scalloped lace welts at the tops of the stockings to
the 8 fat satin garters that hung down from the corset. He then slipped into
the long-sleeved, see through black babydoll peignoir and slipped his feet
into the  hot pink satin mules with the 4" black heels and black ankle
straps that were at the side of the bed.

"Hmmm... I guess that's it," the young boy thought. "No panties... No dress...
Well Ok... (giggle)... I think I'm going to like this...  Whatever he gave me
sure is goooooooood. Oh yeah... I want more of that...Mmmmmmmmm, he is such
a hot looking older man. I wonder how big his dickiebird is?..... (giggle)...
No more scared little boys for me... Now I get a real man... (giggle)...My
first... (giggle)"

He was feeling as light headed and wonderful as he had ever felt in his
life. Everything was good. Everything was perfect. He didn't know what it
was that Mr. Barker had given him but he wanted a LOT more. If he could feel
like this forever then that is what he wanted. He keep giggling and when he
got up to walk over to the vanity to put some makeup on, just like he loved
to do when Mom was at work after school, he couldn't seem to control his
legs. He had to laugh and was so thankful when Mr. Barker carried him over
and sat him in front of the mirror.

He said out loud to no one in particular, "First brush out my long blonde
hair... I am so glad it is down to my shoulders now... And don't forget the
bangs... CUTE!!!!!!..... Now, for some mascara and eye shadow... And some
blush... Hmmm... What colors are there for my lips???? Oh... Hot fuchsia pink to
go with the corset... Oh, yes!!!....  giggle... Look at my little dickie, Mr.
Barker... it is soooooo hard... Do you think it is cute too? Do you like it? Do
you want to touch it? Mmmmmm, I'll bet you do... I bet you even want to suck
it, don't you loverboy..."

And with that he slowly swiveled around on his seat and spread his legs out
wide and started tickling his balls and running his fingers up and down his
hard but small cock and said, "Ooooo, sweet Mr. Barker... You have been
soooooo nice to me... I think I know what you want me to do in return... Don't
I?.... Hmmmm?.... Yes, I can see that you can't take your eyes off of my
little dickiebird... You like little boys like me who want to be girls...
Don't you sweetie?" he said out loud.

But to himself he thought, "Gee, this is fun... No more trying to get the
boys in our building to let me dress up for them so I can suck them off...
And maybe, if I am lucky, I won't have to beg for a little cream to drink
down my starving throat cuz I have a feeling Mr. Barker has a ton of cream
just waiting for me to drink down."

He was so loose he couldn't stop laughing. Especially as he looked down and
saw his cock tip straining to get out from under the edge of the black
feather-edged corset. He tried to stand up in the fuchsia pink mules but
couldn't seem to keep his balance like he normally could when he wore his
mother's heels. "Hmmm, must be the stuff he gave me..." and then he couldn't
stop his almost uncontrollable giggling.

Laughing at his clumsiness he merely got onto his knees, crawled over to Mr.
Barker and unzipped his pants to reach in and grab his penis.

"Oh dear, it is so much bigger than Dennis's. It's so hard too. You never
answered me... Does Mr. Barker like little boys like me who want to be girls?
Hmm? It sure looks like it... (giggle, giggle)"

He leaned forward and, as if in slow motion, stuck his tongue out as far as
it would go and began licking up the drops of clear fluid that kept
appearing on the tip of his cock.

Within 5 days, Sarah had become a three hits a day junkie but to keep track
marks from spoiling the beauty of his skin, Mitch merely chipped the juice
under his skin or shot it between his toes. Even better, as far as Sarah was
concerned, Mitch was whoring him out to all of the men on his "A" list. Men
with power and money and influence. But also men with a desperate need for
young boys who looked and dressed and acted like the giggly, submissive,
teenaged, sissy-whore girls they longed to be.

Sarah, had fallen into his new life with total abandon. Sarah's mother's
silence was purchased with the gift of a 16 year old Lithuanian girl to keep
her bed hot at night and the apartment spotless during the day and all of
the cocaine she could consume. The nights when the four of them would party
together were seared into Sarah's memory and the first time his mother had
reached out to stroke his garter belt framed cock was the first time Sarah
had felt completely loved and accepted by his mother since he knew he was a
gay transvestite at age 9. Watching his mother cook her own cocaine and
shoot both herself and Tanya up before turning to him and cooking his junk,
binding his arm and shooting him up was as close to sexual nirvana as he
felt he could come. But to then watch his lover Mitch fuck Tanya from
behind, pull out just in time to empty his load into Sarah's mouth and then
feel his mother climb onto his cock and fuck herself till she sobbed out her
orgasm and pleasure, was all the heaven he needed to experience in this
life.

Jean knew that Mitch liked controlling his young teen whores with drugs so
she wasn't surprised when she watched them snort those four lines together
before Sarah went out to do her scenes in the trannie slave movie they were
shooting. But she WAS shocked that they had done it so openly, knowing full
well that she was in the room watching them.

"You need me to slip down on my knees and take your cock into my mouth and
suck you like I did that first time after you caught me in my Mommy's
panties and bra?.... Huh, baby?.... You want pretty Sarah to suck your cock
til you shoot out your hot stuff into my mouth or all over my perfectly made
up face??.... Isn't that what Daddy wants and needs?..... Ooooooooo, I KNOW
that's what you need baby... But you know what lover? Not now, you'll mess
my makeup and so you'll have to find somewhere else to dump your stinking,
hot load of man-jiz... You perverted, disgusting, filthy, old man... You
really think you can get it up and cum on me whenever you want, you fucking
bastard? Hmmmmmm?..... Babygirl Sarah doesn't know whether his huney still
has what it takes..."

With that last taunt, Mitch tossed Sarah onto the floor, slapped him hard
across the face and then pulled him into a kneeling position on all fours
over the vanity bench. He got behind his charge's soft, round bottom and
softly caressed his hands over Sarah's white flesh. Jean could see the
taught, fat garters cut deeply into his ass and thighs and the frilly lace
edge of his corset frame his red, puckered asshole for a brief moment before
Mitch thrust his thick, throbbing, fat-veined, un-lubed, blood-engorged cock
straight up into Sarah's rectum.

Sarah let out a cry as his dry cock ripped into her ass, past his sphincter
and then slowly change the sounds he made to moans and sighs and finally he
started whimpering as Mitch began rhythmically fucking his little protégé up
the ass. Within minutes the gray haired man had reached around and started
jacking Sarah's own hard cock while he built his fuck up to the edge of
cumming.

"Oh, Yessssssssssssss!!!!!!!!!! You whore... Take that cream, you junked up
slut bitch!!!!!!!!!!  Oh yeah... Daddy needs that... Daddy needs to cum
into his sweet boygirl's tight cunny... And his little whore loves it, doesn't
he??........ Feel me pumping you full?..... Does Daddy's little bitch-boy
like that? ... Don't you love all that hot spunk shooting into your ass...
Impregnating you with my seed... Filling up your emptiness with my hot load?"

Sarah, whose own cock had shot out a load of cum all over the satin covered
vanity bench, had slumped down and started to curl into a ball of satiated,
post-orgasmic, drug-induced complacency. He uttered deep, guttural, whimpers
of satisfaction. Mitch got to his feet, bent down, poured out four more
lines of coke and pulled Sarah up into a sitting position. He handed Sarah
the straw and forced his head down with his hand held in the long, luxurious
folds of Sarah's now wavy blonde hair.  He then slapped Sarah and told her
to snort up what he'd lined out for her so she could go out and do her
scene. Sarah snorted all four lines and in seconds was up, retouching his
lipstick, straightening his stockings, slipping into his 4" pumps and
laughing drunkenly at Mitch's satiated body slumped in the chaise lounge in
the corner.

Sarah's tiny little cock, all 5" of it, was raw looking but rock hard as she
walked out to the set where the crew was waiting for him to perform the next
scene of the film. It was another in his favorite series since it was
written as a biographical sketch of his own life. This scene had him
recreating the first time he had been gang-banged after being picked up by
Mitch, bathed, shot up and kept in the clothes a whore would wear while 8 of
Mitch's friends were called over to fuck this drug-addled, totally
dependent, girlieboy cumslut.

Jean would never have believed what she'd just seen if she hadn't been told
about Mitch and Sarah's first meeting and their open drug use by Rod. It
excited her to see Mitch control his young protégé so completely through the
administration of cocaine and heroin. She knew it was a total turn on for
her when she took her first step out of the makeup room and she felt the
stream of pussy juice escape her slit, drip through her panties and slick
the insides of her thighs.

Later she would masturbate her own pussy to cum after cum after cum as she
followed the two of them when they left the building and then watch Mitch as
he gave in to Sarah's pleading for his nightly hit of heroin. She couldn't
believe the sheer eroticism she felt as she witnessed half of the liquid
slip into the boy's arm and his reaction to the drug.

For the first time she understood the sexual pleasure one could derive from
exercising power and control over another person through the denial or the
offering of drugs. She had never understood Mitch until that evening as she
watched him exercise total control over Sarah, as she stood in the shadows
watching young Sarah spend the next 3 hours out on the street working as his
whore and letting the men she attracted do the most degrading and sexually
perverse things to her body.

It was clear to Jean that once the powerful liquid took effect, Sarah would
do anything Mitch asked her to do. Sarah's first john wanted a blow job
only. But by the wee hours of the night and the 5th or 6th customer, Sarah's
willingness to continue fucking and sucking every cock that walked past him
was fading. Jean stared in fascination as Mitch openly sat Sarah down on
some steps in an entryway, lifted his skirt above his stocking tops, took
out a syringe from his briefcase and then proceeded to inject the second
half of it into Sarah's soft white ass.

Sarah immediately started to giggle and his cock tented out the front of his
skirt. He was almost delirious from this drugged out drunkenness and it
seemed to Jean that Mitch could have asked Sarah to jump into the Hudson
River and he would have done it laughing the entire time. Jean now
understood why Mitch had called Sarah "his little junkie whore". At 16, it
was clear to Jean that Mitch had turned Sarah on to the pleasure of drugs
and through them had taken total control his will and destiny.

As she listened one more time to the cries of sadistic and masochistic
pleasure and ecstasy that came out of Jenn's pleasure room, Jean thought
back to the simplicity and power of that lesson and she knew what she had to
do to control her lover's behavior.



Chapter Eight – Hitting Bottom, The Final Chapter

Jean couldn't believe how easy it had been. Two weeks ago Jenn's schedule
had no time in it to spend time with Jean. Now, Jean had Jenn floating in a
cloud of pleasure... sexual, emotional, euphorically blissful pleasure. She
hadn't wanted to resort to heroin with her huney so she had dissolved a
Quaalude into a glass of tequila and Jenn hadn't been the same since. Not
knowing what he was experiencing, Jenn associated the incredibly soft,
sensual, floating happiness he felt with a renewed need and desire for his
first love, Jean. He couldn't keep his cock down or his hands off of her and
he fucked and sucked her mouth, cunt and ass as often as she needed and in
the manner she directed. It had now been two weeks of non-stop sex.

Jean was now alternating between coking Jenn to the gills for what seemed
like days at a time to get him actively searching for sex with male clients
and to get him totally needing to fuck, be fucked, suck, be sucked and cum
and then bringing him back down for shorter periods of rest with a little
Quaalude. In this state of being under her total control, Jenn's obsessive
need for cock didn't bother Jean now that it was she who determined what he
would do, when he would do it and with whom he did it. In fact, the power
she felt from the control she had, acted like an aphrodisiac on her system.
She couldn't stop the leaking of moisture from her cunt or control her need
for almost constant sex as she watched her little boygirl lover get juiced
up, don his sexiest outfits, paint his face and get turned out by her for
their client's private pleasure.

For his part, Jenn was in a state of euphoria that he thought couldn't
possibly exist before he had actually felt it. He loved what Jean was giving
him and he never wanted to give it up.  He knew he would do anything to
maintain this state of total bliss. Jean had kept him to herself for the
first week but knew that he was now in a state where he would be utterly
controlled by and dependent on Jean's instructions. Jenn had never felt so
vulnerable and being turned into a needy little sissy queen after having
been the queen of dominatrix trannie bitches was oddly ironic and soothing
to him. It also made him feel even more feminine and more desirable and
served only to stoke his psychological dependence on Jean. He had grown to
love not having to think or plan anything and being told what to do and when
to do it.

He actually began to feel the NEED to be the plaything and the object of
lust and desire to Jeans' customers. Those men whose own needs to dominate
someone, after Jean had finished punishing them, bordered on the
obsessive-compulsive. Jenn had learned to love the sting of the lash and the
soreness of taking cock after cock up his ass whenever he was turned loose
with Jean's slaves.

Whenever it seemed to Jean that Jenn was getting tired and wouldn't be able
to cum again, she stirred a growing amount of cocaine into Jenn's drinks.
But by the end of the first week she realized that she could dispense with
this bit of subterfuge and merely offered Jenn the coke and a straw. By the
third week, Jenn had become an expert at snorting the stuff all the way up
into his sinuses so that all of the powder got as far into his brain as
possible. Within moments of taking his hit Jenn would get a hardon that
threatened to rip his panties right off his thin frame while the nipples in
his massive 36C tits would engorge and distend whatever bra or top he was
wearing. He became a fucking and cumming machine and loved every sexual act
requested by Jean's customers.

One night, Jean had laid out a particularly sadistic looking dome outfit for
Jenn to put on after his bath. It consisted of a black PVC thong, an 8 inch
wide black PVC garter belt, black seamed opera hose with reinforced toes and
Cuban heels, a black PVC shortie top with a built in bra that barely held
his large tits in place and that had two wide openings for his nipples to
peak out, and thigh-high, black PVC 5"stiletto heeled boots. All of the
separate pieces had steel studs running around the borders and on his wrists
and ankles he had affixed heavy black steel studded cuffs. His long, now
blond tresses were done up in a severe bun held beneath a black PVC biker's
cap. He had heavy, dark makeup and maroon lipstick and his thick, distended,
pierced nipples were connected by a long draped chain attached to the gold
hoops that were thrust through her lust and drug fattened nipples.

Just before they left the condo, Jean had given Jenn his nightly Quaalude.
"Mmmmm, yessssssssss!," Jenn thought, "Finally! I thought she'd never give
me what I need. Oh heavenly bliss... I feel so gooooooood... Soooooo loose...
So in need of being fucked..."

The combination of cocaine and Lude acted like a speedball. The one taking
him high and pumping blood to his horny cock, the other mellowing him out so
he was loose and open to whatever needs Jean's men might express.

They got into Jenn's black Jaguar J type with the cream leather seats and
Jenn was so high, as he preferred to be, that he had no idea where Jean was
taking him. It was a very dark and somewhat rainy night. They stopped
outside what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse... who knows where, he
thought to himself. Jean walked around the car and opened his door for him
and helped get the drunken bitchboy to his feet. They stumbled into a
blackened doorway and once inside the door, Jenn was shocked to see a huge
room with people lying around everywhere smoking crack or shooting heroin up
their arms or fucking openly in the middle of it all... Men fucking other men
up the ass, young boys no older than 12 or 13 fucking women old enough to be
their grandmothers, boys sucking older men, young girls sucking and fucking
older men, girls licking the clits between older women's splayed legs...
every combination of sexual coupling was taking place and the smell of dope,
crack and cooking heroin was everywhere.

It was perhaps the most erotically depraved scene of utter immorality that
Jenn had ever seen. Thank God for her Lude. Although he knew he ought to be
terrified at what he was seeing, he just smiled and nodded and felt his
nipples distend and his cock harden as he looked around. Jean led him to
another doorway and inside was a plushly decorated room in heavy maroon
velour with gold framed mirrors everywhere, lit by several huge candelabra.
Jean turned to a man seated on a couch and said, "Here he is Dominic. I told
you he was the sexiest tgirl you'd ever hope to meet. Was I lyin'?.... An'
you know I can make him do whatever you want him to do."

Jenn started to smile and giggled as he saw the man's cock sticking out of
his black leather pants. He dropped down onto his knees in front of the man
and said, " Ooooo sugar, Jean doesn't need to make me do anything... One look
at you and I am a weak kneed cunt ready to do whatever you want baby... Any
chance I can have a little taste of that gorgeous meat right now?"

Whereupon he leaned into the man's crotch and sucked up his penis into his
salivating and desperately hungry mouth.

"I delivered, Dominic, now it's your turn." He heard Jean say.

Dom got up from his chair and waved two henchmen over to a table. They
counted out $5,000 and passed it to Jean.

"That's not the deal we agreed on. Pay up or we leave."

Dom merely laughed, nodded to his men and watched as they grabbed both Jean
and Jenn, and bound and gagged them tightly.

Jean had a look of utter terror on her face while Jenn started leaking
precum down onto his stockinged thigh in his drugged out, masochistic
anticipation of more cruelty to come. Dom had little Jenn sit next to him so
he could play with his leaking cock which had been sticking out past his
thong. The moment Jenn's cock was surrounded by this man's warm, soft
fingers, he nearly swooned and started humping involuntarily to get more
contact and derive more pleasure from the man's touch.

He watched with delirious happiness as Jean was fed the entire contents of a
hypodermic and started laughing as the two brutes tore her clothes off of
her.

Within 3 or 4 minutes Jean was giggling and laughing and didn't seem to feel
anything but pleasure as her nipples were twisted to the point of bleeding
and her clitty was pulled away from her cunt to the point where it looked
like it would be ripped off.

"So that's what heroin feels like... Oh yeah... No wonder people will die to
get it... Oh fuck... Mmmmm... Pinch my nipples... Slap my cunt... Oh yeah... That
feels so good...  Do me you fuckin' pricks... Do me the way a real man should
do a woman..."

Jean's words acted like the strongest possible enticement to these
insensitive brutes.

And Jenn watched in fascination as Jean showed him a side of her that he'd
never seen before: A Jean who was begging for cock. Normally she was the
bitch-dom Mistress. Normally she was the one doing the punishing. This was
new for Jenn. He was laughing and giggling as he realized that Jean had
joined his ranks. He put his arms around Dom's neck and stuck his tongue
into the man's ear and whispered, "Oh Dom... Isn't it sexy to see her begging
for mancock? You want me to help get you off so you'll be nice and relaxed
while your men do my bitch Mistress and bring her down to size?"

Jean was glassy eyed as she was mounted by both men at once, the one behind
her was at least 6'5" tall and must have weighed 275 lbs. He was chiseled
out of stone from the looks of his torso and butt. His cock had to be 12"
long and 9" around. It looked big enough to rip anyone open. He slowly lubed
it up and as he stroked it the resulting erection was beyond anything
imaginable.  He stepped behind her and held her hips while he squatted down
and stuck his cock slowly up her ass. The guy in front looked South
American, the way Dominic did, and although shorter than the guy behind
Jean, he seemed broader in the chest. His chest hair was thick and dark. His
manmeat was short and stubby. It had to have a circumference of 10" if it
were an inch. He stood in front of her and slipped it up into her pussy. She
was uncontrollable and screamed out her need. Within minutes both men had
pulled out to jack their cum out all over her face.

The short one handed her a crack pipe and told her to smoke it. She did and
just like everyone on the street said, one hit and she knew she was addicted
for life. There was no getting out of this. She was so junked up she could
only giggle at the now obvious fantasy she'd had that she believed she could
sell Jenn's use to this mob and their boss Dominic and get them both back
safely to their place with the promised amount of money and in the same
mental and emotional state as when they started.

"What a foolish girl I was." She giggled to herself.

But if she thought the heroin they gave her at first was heaven on earth,
the crack was heaven jacked up high. Within minutes she was begging for
another hit. And she knew that not only would she do anything to get it but
she didn't care what the future held in store for her as long as she would
have access to this shit. The rest of the night for Jean was a succession of
crack and men until she was bleeding from her cunt and lips. And still she
needed to get high. Still she would take all comers if she could just get
one more hit... One more high...One more chance at bliss.

Jenn, had fared slightly better since Dominic was the big Columbian boss and
he was the one who had bargained to buy the services of this famous sheboy
whore. Dominic and Jenn had watched Jean smoke and fuck herself to a
bleeding frenzy. It was remarkable to Jenn how erotic it was to watch her
lover get off on both the cum and the crack. But all of his erotic thoughts
were heightened by Dom's constant feeding to him of pure cocaine and Dom's
masterful dominance over his body. The way he pulled his nipple rings by the
connecting chain and how the pain in his tits was translated into pleasure
in his rock-hard cock. The way his splayed ass was flayed until the pain of
the paddling became pleasure of the most intense kind. The way he was forced
to suck Dom's cock over and over and over again until he was sure there was
no cum left.

Yet, a few minutes rest and some more great coke and Dom was ready to fuck
his newest little toy bitchboy another time. Jenn had never been happier. He
laughed as Jean was pushed out into the large room they had come through and
she began to work both the men and women and exchange sex in any form for
another hit of crack.

Weeks passed. Jenn had no idea what had happened to Jean, for he was told
nothing whenever he asked. All he got was more great white powder which
immediately distracted him. All of  Jenn's belongings had been moved to
Dom's private residence and from time to time Dom would take him out in his
limo to watch Jean walk the streets trading whatever remnants were left of
her body for enough money to buy another rock of crack. Jenn was kept so
high himself on cocaine during the day and Quaaludes at night that he really
didn't know what reality he was seeing or living. All he knew was that he
lived in a state of total pleasure. His ass and mouth were filled constantly
with the rich, thick, sweet cream from the horniest man he had ever run
across. And his closets were filled with the most beautiful clothes and the
sexiest heels and the finest and gaudiest jewelry that limitless money could
buy.

And even after the Feds had raided Dom's operation and had hauled all of
them off to jail, Jenn couldn't really be sure if the life he thought he'd
been living was real or just a dream. Was he really still the little asexual
Jeremy Stewart from a farm in upstate New York, attending Design School or
had he in fact become a crossdressing, transsexual, gayboy, and a very
strung out coke and Lude addict who would let any man do anything to and
with him in order to preserve his supply of drugs?

Reality was no longer real. Jenn had no way to measure it. Nor did he care
to.


Thank you for letting me take you to the depraved world my imagination
unfurls. I hope you enjoyed it and had many cums yourself as you read the
various escapades of our little friend Jeremy. His adventures continue in a
previously published story called, "Hard Time Sex". The version at
fictionmania.com is NOT the final version as there were many typos in it
when it happened to be sent in. Please read the version at nifty or ask
me to send it to you.  If you liked this story, I would love to hear from
you at marciatv@hotmail.com. .