Date: Thu, 4 Dec 2008 14:54:50 -0800 (PST) From: jimi jones Subject: jimi's secret diary - maine man part 4 transgendered/teen jimiboygirl@yahoo.com Please feel free to write me or offer a critique category: Transgender/Teen Maine Man - Part 3 camp indoctrination my arrival at camp eros had been memorable to be sure. as the men filed out of the van i was left alone to gather up my scattered underwear and other belongings... i slid the panties up my legs, they snagged on my still cum-slicked legs; my stockings now shiny here and there from smears of fresh and still warm semen. my ass cheeks made a squishy kind of sound as my still gaping and very sore pink hole emitted a trickle of sperm between my legs... i emerged from the van into a dark and starry night, surrounded by pine trees. from not too far off i could hear the surf lapping against the shore, not totally unlike the recent sloppy service performed on my pussy shortly before i was penetrated so memorably. ahead of me was a rather old looking and ramshackle two or three room wooden cabin, the windows dimly lit by kerosene lanterns. it looked as if it started with the kitchen, and other rooms sort of grew from there over the course of a couple of recent lifetimes. ron stood on the porch. somebody handed him a can of beer. he beckoned to me. come on in...we're not going to eat you... well, not literally! i made my way up the path, in stockinged feet and panties, the flimsy and sweat-dampened lacy cupped bra not offering much protection from the chilly maine night, clutching the paper bag filled with my boy clothes. between rows of old pine growth, patches of starry sky were visible here and there. apart from that, it was dead still. as i moved to the house, ron came down the path and hugged me close. you were great, kid. did you like it? yes, i did, i stammered, teeth chattering.... it was really, uh, unexpected. where are we? camp eros, kid. a home away from home for wayward boygirls like you. um, i'm expected back at our vacation house tonight, you know? well, here. we'll fix that. use my cell phone. tell 'em you met up with some friends and are spending the night. it's the truth, after all. uh. okay. when can i go home? when do you want to go home? i did not answer. here. want some beer? no? maybe something hot to eat? surely you'll want a bath or a shower. it's rustic here, but we have everything you'll need for an overnight stay...or even a week.... or a month, if you want. ron looked down at me and gave me another long and loving hug. he moved in and i kissed him, tenderly. well, let's see how the night goes okay, ron? sure kid. c'mon, let's get you fixed up after you make that call. don't want your folks worried about you. i made the call and reassured everybody that i was okay. i said i was staying outside portland, with friends...which was true; how far outside portland i could only guess. then i went inside the cabin. the three guys were sitting around the table enjoying drinks of beer or cocktails, and the other boy was making dinner, standing at the stove. he was now clad only in pair of tight looking bright red panties and a pale pink bib apron with red ruffles, tied about his neck with red tapes like a halter top. a pair of red and white flip flops on his small feet. very nice feet. lovely toes,hairless legs,thin but well defined. one of the men gave him a little slap on his rounded red behind and said something smelled good, as he leaned his face to the boys hiney, and sniffed theatrically. he got hit with a wooden spoon across his hand by the boy for his troubles. don't be so fresh, jake. take it easy, darlene, said ron, we have company. when the boy turned around to face me i noticed right away that he had changed completely from his earlier flannel and denim appearance. his dark hair was now bobby-pinned up and he was wearing red lipstick and dark eyeshadow, to complete his crimson ensemble. she extended a rather limp hand to me. hi. i'm darren. but up here im darlene. hi. im jimi. we shook hands very daintily, no pumping or excessive gripping. no manliness to prove here at camp eros, i gathered. she eyed me from toe to top, lingering over my puny, semen smelling crotch jimi...hmmmmm, that sounds girly enough i think, said darlene. no need for a name change for you. its wonderful as is. we are to be room-mates honey. that's our room... in the.... rear. IN THE REAR... haw haw jake hooted, swigging his beer and then belching loudly. that one's jake, darlene said aloud, and with a whisper...(he is SOOO coarse... and usually drunk) jake, a large bearded middle aged lumberjack type gave a little salute with his empty beer can and i recognized him as the one who fed his cum to me from his mouth, the cum he had expertly sucked from my hole. hello again, jake. ...and that dear little fellow is william, darlene continued. william, a slight man in expensive LL Bean shirt and slacks and new looking timberland boots, in his mid 40s, i'd say, designer spectacles and after shave gave a wan smile and a limp little wave with his wine glass. he looked like an ad from the gay maine catalog. (william is a total fag, honey, but he's good with makeup tips) william was my tit sucker. i returned his small smile with one of my own, as i rubbed my puffy nipples for his benefit. he reddened and looked away for a second, obviously embarrassed. of course, you already know ron. (was there a hint of jealousy in darlene's voice?) i hope you like lobster jimi because that is just about all these men ever eat. ALMOST all, sneered jake. better get cleaned up for dinner, ron said quietly, interrupting the introductions. bathroom is over there. he indicated a plastic shower curtain in the corner, near the water supply for the kitchen,i guessed. he opened the curtain for me and removed a small square of linoleum glued to a square of plywood from the center of the flooring. rustic indeed. the shower hookup was a plastic hose attached to a faucet over a grid-like cutout in the floor. the metal grid was wide enough to allow water to leave but narrow enough to keep out animals. the linoleum sat atop that to keep out snakes and bugs when closed tight, explained ron. if you want a bath instead you can use this, explained ron, indicating a shallow plastic tub set on a chair, more suitable for washing dishes than anything else. just take a whore's bath. you know, lather up a bit at a time and rinse off. let the water out through the floor and put the lino back on top... you can wear these, he said and handed me a paper bag and took the bag of boy clothes from my hand. you wont need these things for a while, i hope, said ron, as he closed the curtain behind him. dont be too long, darlin'. dinner is in about 30 minutes. i turned on the tap and tested the temperature as i filled the little basin...the water was chilly, so the whore's bath was quick. brrrrrrr. as i lathered up my chest and neck my nipples stuck out like rosy high beams.... i rinsed quickly and then did my face and armpits, followed by legs, arms, crotch, and backside. my crotch was still sticky, my ass cum-soaked. i was amazed when i washed my backside.... the facecloth came up covered with a watery brown and white goo. there must have been quite a load of cum in there, it was still leaking out, mixed with a little poo from deep down inside me. i had new respect for jake, the long-dicked class clown. i tried to clean the facecloth as best i could with the cool water but it was a mess. i dropped it into the trash bin after using it. drying off quickly i looked into the bag that ron gave me. it was a small bag.... a pair of tiny girly red lacy panties. a red training bra, a red checked flannel nightgown cut down to negligee length, mid-thigh. a pair of fluffy red slippers. a tube of red lipstick, a small spray bottle of cheap perfume, and some baby powder. everything red... all they eat is lobster, darlene had declared... i blushed red too. well, i guess thats how they see me, a red clad tart. after powdering myself and changing into the used but clean evening wear, i rinsed off my cum slicked peach panties and bra and stockings and hung them over the mirror to dry. then i applied the red lipstick and spritzed some perfume onto my wrist and rubbed them together, the way i had seen mother do it so many times as a child, hanging out with her as she prepared to go out for dinner, watching her as she dressed, helping with zippers, buttons, etc. i thought about my early childhood as i prepared myself for dinner... and the men. i found a hairbrush and teased out my hair as best i could after first applying some stiff hair gel no wonder i am who i am. voila. i emerged from the bathroom and walked over to the hearth, as indicated by hand signals from ron. i sat on a hand made hooked rug at rons feet by the roaring fire as dinner was being finalized by darlene. steam from the boiled lobsters misted up the windows of the cabin, the condensation ran like millions of girly tears. i wondered how many like me had been here before. i wondered who had worn these freshly laundered items lent to me for my comfort -- and their pleasure. he stroked my hair tenderly. you look real nice jimi, he said softly. let's eat.