Date: Sat, 14 Aug 2004 14:01:33 -0400 (EDT)
From: Eugene
Subject: Guy and Ellen (TG,TV, TS)

Postcards from THE ESTATE
Guy and Ellen
Part  VIII

Guy escorted Ellen to a golf cart parked outside Guest House II.  She
wasn't aware of it, but being able to operate a vehicle on ESTATE grounds
was a great privilege.  While it was never a problem to arrange for one of
the surreys and its driver, such transportation did restrict freedom of
movement.  The road Guy took wound down to the lake, along its shore, then
up a saddle-backed dune.  On the side facing the lake was a hollow, where
THE ESTATE had built a cabana and installed picnic tables.  From three
sides the hill looked deserted, and from the lake it was high enough that
anyone on the lake or the beach below could not see the area.  Without the
golf cart, the entire trip would have taken hours, and the climb would have
exhausted the climbers.

Guy maneuvered the cart next to the cabana.  He rushed to the right side to
help Ellen out, then unloaded the baskets in the back of the cart as she
took in the view.  "Where are we?"  she asked.

"In a rural part of one of the Great Lake states."

"Is that one of the Great Lakes?"  She pointed to the inland sea rolling
before them.

"Yes."

"Which one?"

"Huron."

For the first time Ellen realized she was on the upper peninsula of
Michigan.  Two states from home.  She turned to see Guy fighting the wind
to place a checkered tablecloth on the picnic table.  As she went to help
him the breeze lifted her dress to her waist.  Guy smiled at the sight of
Ellen trying to keep the skirt of the dress down, a la Marilyn Monroe.
Realizing that she couldn't hold down her dress anyway, Ellen let the wind
have its way while she and Guy struggled to get the cloth on the table.
This was accomplished only by Ellen sitting on the tablecloth as Guy placed
heavy objects on each corner.

The table cloth pinned, Guy took Ellen in his arms again and kissed her,
running his hands into the back of her panties as the wind lifted her dress
again.  As he pulled her to him, Ellen felt his manhood rising again.
Doesn't he ever get tired, she wondered.  Thank God for Viagra, he thought.
He squeezed her nether cheeks then removed his hands.

"Let's have brunch," he said.  The meal was at THE ESTATE's usual high
standards: coffee, eggs, ham and sausage, English muffins, hash browns: all
kept hot in thermal containers delivered to the site just as Guy was
picking up Ellen.  There was also Danish pastry and coffee cake, butter,
five kinds of jelly and jam, orange juice, apple juice, and fruit salad.
Enough before two people to feed a village in Haiti or Rwanda.  Guy ate
with gusto: ranchers and farmers have big appetites.  Ellen also ate
heartily, unaware until she began eating that it had been over twelve hours
since dinner.  After her first helping Ellen restricted herself to coffee
and a Danish, watching Guy wolf down his second and his third of
everything.  He felt self-conscious when he looked up at her studying him.
He had a mouthful of food and a forkful poised in mid-air.  Shamefacedly he
put the fork down, swallowing what was in his mouth.

"You have large appetite," she said.

"Well, I am a rancher."

"Not just food," she continued.

Guy smiled.  "Well, I can't claim all the credit.  Some of it is due to
Viagra.  Better living through chemistry as they use to say."  He then
looked into her face.  "And a lot of it is you.  You're a beautiful woman
that any man would like to fuck over and over and over."

Ellen thought about this.  In two days she had been fucked four times, more
times than Nathaniel fucked in a week.  While the Viagra comment explained
Guy's performance, it also emphasized his lust for her.  There has to be a
desire for the drug to be effective.  She pondered how she went from a
man--albeit a man who dresses--to being a sexually desirable woman.  And
she did think of herself now as a woman.

She took out her compact and applied lipstick, unaware that this was the
first time she had done this in Guy's presence.  Guy watched, becoming
aroused as she did so.  She started to clean up the picnic.  "You can leave
that," Guy interrupted.  "The staff will take care of that."

He stood, wiping his mouth.  He walked over to her and kissed her, pulling
her to her feet.  He guided her to the cabana, besides which were two
chaise lounges.  He gently pressed on her arms, seating her.  Standing in
front of her he unfastened his pants, letting then drop to his ankles,
followed by his boxers.  Ellen looked up at him in anticipation.  She knew
this moment would come, although she had avoided thinking about it.

Guy reached for one of the condom boxes on the table next to the chairs.
The one with the superthin condoms reserved for oral sex.  He put it on,
rolling it halfway down his shaft.  He looked into her eyes as he held his
cock to her face.  She opened her mouth returning his gaze.  Leaning
forward, she took him inside her mouth.  She was surprised at the slight
strawberry flavor of the condom.

Guy let it slide until the head was fully pass her lips.  "Close your lips
just behind the head and suck," he instructed.

She did, closing her eyes just as he placed his hands on the sides of her
head.  He let her suck him for a few minutes, twitching his cock from time
to time.  When he felt himself getting more stimulated, he pulled himself
from her.  She looked up at him anxiously, thinking she had somehow done it
wrong.  He bent down and kissed her.

"Thank you, Ellen.  Taking me in your mouth meant as much as giving me your
ass."  He stepped forward, lifting his cock.  "Please, suck my balls."
Ellen again complied, taking first one then the other, then both in her
mouth.

"Run the tips of your fingernails behind them," Guy commanded.  Ellen did
so, going as far as the crack of his ass.  "Now lick the underside up to
the head," Guy instructed.  When she reached the head, he continued the
lesson.  "Now take head in like you did at first."

She did, sucking him steadily, scratching his perineum, palming his balls.
She was his sissy.  She'd come here at his invitation.  She'd been
transformed from Nathaniel to Ellen for his pleasure.  She'd let him take
her anal virginity, make her a woman.  And she now she was sitting in front
of him: pantied, skirted, sucking his cock.

He felt himself ready to cum, but didn't want to do so in her mouth.  He
brought her to her feet and kissed her again.  He sank to the lounge,
pulling her down with him, then pushed her back on the lounge, hiking her
dress up to her waist.  Ellen lifted her ass so Guy could remove her
panties, then felt him pull the tampon from her ass.  She waited as he
retrieved another condom and placed it on himself, then brought her legs up
and out to give him access.  Again the touch of his cock at her ass, the
entrance, the fullness, then the in-and-out motion.  She wrapped her legs
around him, dug her heels into the cheeks of his ass, and threw her ass up
to him when he was ready to cum.  She was his sissy, and she wanted to make
sure he enjoyed every fuck he gave her.

***

Again!  Ellen thought as she felt Guy lube her hole.  She was still lying
on her back, looking at the sky, her feet flat on the cushions, the heels
of her wedges against her ass, the front her dress hiked up around her
waist, her panties looped around her right ankle.  She thought he was
finished for the afternoon, if not the day.  She felt something enter her
like what Brenda had done earlier and realized that Guy had pushed in a
tampon.  She then felt him wipe the excess cream from her and kiss her
perineum and balls.  A tongue up the underside of her limp cock, then the
head being taken into his mouth.  She pushed him away, the first time she
denied him her body.

"No, not without a condom." she stated.  Guy looked at her in bewilderment.
"Brenda read me the riot act this morning about you doing that without a
condom on me.  Please, Guy.  If we need one on you when I suck you, then we
need one on me!"

Guy couldn't argue.  He knew the rules and the benefits of following them.
But being an experienced cocksucker himself, he knew also that the feel of
a live cock in your mouth was different than one sheathed in latex.  He
didn't like the taste or the feel of latex.  He also knew that the feel of
a real mouth, a real tongue, real lips, real teeth would be an experience
Ellen would never forget.  Look how quickly she came this morning.

"Brenda's right, of course," Guy conceded.  "THE ESTATE's rules are not to
be transgressed lightly.  But think about how I ate you last night and this
morning before Brenda showed up, and afterwards.  You've got to admit there
is a difference."  Ellen looked at him, frustrated by the truth of his
words and the truth of Brenda's.

"Did Brenda read you the riot act about this?"  he asked, licking the
inside of her right thigh.  Ellen said nothing as Guy licked and kissed his
way to her crotch, then did her balls, pubic area and down her other leg,
avoiding her now hard cock.  Guy looked at it, then wrapped his hand around
the shaft.

"I suck cock because it gives my partners pleasure, not because I enjoy
it," he said, slowly jacking her.  "I don't like the taste of latex--no one
does."

There had been a difference, the skin-to-skin suck-off being much more
enjoyable.  And Guy was right about the taste of latex.  It wasn't good.
As to feel, she had only Guy's word.  He continued jacking her until she
came, her cum flowing out like Vesuvius.  He continued, wiping her with a
tissue in one hand while jacking her with the other.  She closed her eyes
and enjoyed the feel of his hands on her, oblivious to the scene the two of
them made: a pretty woman laying on her back on a chaise lounge, her dress
up, panties down, with a raging hard-on where her pussy should be, while a
nude man of fairly good size sat beside her jacking that hard-on, his own
dick also hard and pointing skyward.

Guy had not planned on fucking Ellen again.  The Viagra he'd taken that
morning should have worn off by now.  The normal pattern would be for him
to teach her to suck cock, suck her cock in return, then return to the
guest house.  Now that he had jacked her off instead of sucking her off,
they could still return to the hotel.  But as he looked at her, as he wiped
her cock clean, as he felt the smoothness and the softness of her skin, as
he looked at the asshole he'd just fucked and enlarged, he wanted to fuck
her again.

"Take off the dress," he ordered gruffly, slipping another condom on
himself.

Ellen opened her eyes and looked at him as he resheathed himself.  As she
sat up to undo the zipper in the back and pull the dress over her head the
only thought in that head was that she was so beautiful Guy couldn't stop
wanting her.  She had barely removed the dress and settled back onto the
lounge when she felt the tampon ripped from her, replaced instantly by
Guy's cock.  As they settled into a rhythm established by four previous
fucks in less than twenty-four hours, Ellen wondered if Guy would have
anything left for tonight.

A half hour later, Guy was by the picnic table, wiping his dick clean.
Suddenly she wanted to suck his cock, to feel him inside her mouth, to
taste him.  But the desire went nearly as suddenly as it came.  For reasons
unknown to her, she did not want to challenge THE ESTATE by flaunting its
rules.  She looked at her crotch.  How am I going to keep myself shaved
down there, she thought.  She reached for a tampon, coating it with cream
before pushing it up her ass.  She then asked herself how she was going to
find this special cream THE ESTATE used.  She remembered something else
Brenda had said about her ass never being the same again.  She knew she
would have to work at getting it tight again.  She didn't know how many
more times Guy would fuck her before she left the next day, but was sure it
would be at least once more.  Five times already!  And a blow job!

She looked down her legs at the panty still on an ankle.  She removed it,
retrieved her dress and, standing, put it on.

Guy came up behind her to zip up the dress, pausing to kiss her neck,
shoulders and back.  "Regrets?"

She looked out at the lake, keeping her back to him.  Their last fuck had
been mechanical for her.  She now knew how to fuck as a woman, how to wrap
her legs around him, how to dig her heels into his ass, how to place her
arms under his so that her palms pressed his shoulders to her as he drove
into her.  Regrets?

"No," she said.

"Would you like to go back to the hotel?"

She didn't answer right away.  She turned her gaze to his face.  "No, not
unless it's what comes next."  Guy's quizzical look informed her that he
did not understand.  "I'm your woman ... no, your sissy, Guy.  I'm here to
let you fuck my ass and to suck your cock and to look and act and be a
woman for you.  At the hotel, what can we do except suck and fuck.  Like
you said, you don't like the taste of latex, and neither do I.  Even with
Viagra I don't think you're going to be able to fuck me for several more
hours.  I'm your guest--your lover.  Entertain me.  Give me the grand tour
of THE ESTATE."

Guy took her in his arms and kissed her, just as he had yesterday in
Mrs. Bowen's office.  Ellen returned the kiss.  Breaking the embrace, Guy
led them to the golf cart, assisting Ellen into her side.  As he swung the
cart onto the trail to the lake he began the legend of Col. Dwight Linden,
who never served in anyone's military, but made a fortune providing war
materials to every army who had the gold to pay, for the last forty years
of the nineteenth century.

***

Guy finished the legend of Col. Dwight Linden, interspersed with
descriptions of the tennis courts, swimming pools, golf course, beaches,
sailing and other recreational facilities they passed.  He was driving
through Stepford Village, explaining its name and function.

"Stepford Village gets its name from the movie `The Stepford Wives.'  The
original.  Many of the sissies, and their wives and girlfriends, like to
role play being 1950s-60s suburban housewives, a la the sitcoms of the
period: Father Knows Best, The Donna Reed Show, Bewitched, Leave It to
Beaver.  THE ESTATE created this section for them."

What Guy could have added was that a lot of straight women also spent their
visits in Stepford Village, living their grandmother's lives, regretting
that they were not born two generations sooner.  As he finished his
explanation, he nearly wrecked the cart as he stopped inches from a similar
cart being driven by Jennifer Thierry.

"This is not your ranch, Guy," Jennifer trilled.  "You got to watch where
you're going."  Turning to Ellen.  "Good afternoon, Ellen.  Enjoy the
picnic?"

Ellen merely nodded, first at Jennifer, then at her passenger.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Hughes," Brenda said.  "Good afternoon, Ms. Sharpe."

Meeting Jennifer Thierry would have unnerved Guy in any situation.  To meet
her with Brenda was especially disturbing.  He could tell from the way
Brenda was dressed--a sleeveless cotton blouse, light skirt, sandals--that
the relationship between her and Jennifer was more than professional.  It
was the first time Ellen had seen Brenda not wearing the uniform of THE
ESTATE.

"My cabin is just down the street," Jennifer continued, pointing in the
direction she was heading.  "Why don't you and Ellen come in for a drink?"

Guy would have liked to decline.  Jennifer was the only one of his sissies
to undergo a sex change, and he had not realized his distaste for such
women until they met afterwards.  He had tried to be a gentleman about his
inability to perform, and hoped he was.  This was the first time they had
seen each other in speaking distance since then.  He nodded in acceptance.
Both Jennifer and Brenda smiled smugly, each more to herself than to each
other.

The "cabin" was actually a two bedroom California ranch house with two-car
garage, twenty-five feet of front lawn along the entire front of the house,
and another twenty-five feet in back, maintained by the black-shirted staff
of THE ESTATE.  Mr. Levitt would have been proud.  Jennifer pulled her cart
into the driveway, got out and waited as Guy pulled alongside.  The
foursome then went into the house, Jennifer leading, Guy trailing.

Inside, Brenda went to the bar and began preparing drinks as Jennifer
indicated that the couple should sit on the loveseat.  She sat on the couch
opposite them.  Brenda brought the drinks: Canadian on the rocks for Guy,
Scotch and water for Ellen and Jennifer, bourbon and soda for herself.  She
sat the tray containing the drinks on the cocktail table between the
loveseat and the couch, sitting next to Jennifer as both trans picked up
their drinks.  They each leaned back and took a long sip of their drinks,
as if choreographed.  Before them was Ellen with her deer-in-the-headlights
look and Guy, sweating despite the air conditioning going full blast.

No one said anything.  Ellen, because she didn't know what to say; Brenda,
because she was still an employee, even if on her own time; Guy, because he
didn't know what to say to Jennifer, wondering why she was with Brenda,
what to say to Brenda, or how much of his past relationships with these two
women he should reveal to Ellen.  Jennifer didn't say anything because she
knew why everyone else was silent, especially Guy.  And she loved it!

Deciding that she had let Guy stew in his discomfit enough, Jennifer broke
the ice.  "So, Ellen, where are you two off to?"

Guy didn't know what to do.  He'd rather answer the question himself, but
needed time to assess the situation.  He let Ellen respond.

"Guy was giving me a tour of this place."

The two trans looked at each other, eyebrows raised in mock surprise.
Jennifer looked at Guy.  "New ritual?"

Guy had regained some of his composure.  "No. ... Jennifer ... Ellen wanted
to see more of THE ESTATE."  He looked at his former lovers, measuring them
as he measured his words.  "The picnic was very good ... very good.  We
have several hours before dinner and she wanted to see more of THE ESTATE."

Jennifer looked at Ellen, then at Brenda.  Ellen wasn't sure what this
conversation was about, but knew it wasn't about her, and she wanted to
keep it that way.  Brenda knew exactly what the conversation was about, and
thought that it shouldn't go any further.

"What time are you and Ms. Sharpe having dinner, Mr. Hughes?" she
intervened.

Guy looked at her with relief, Jennifer with pique.  "About eightish."

"Why not leave Ms. Sharpe with us?  I can continue the tour, with your
permission, and have her ready for you this evening."

Guy was so grateful he wanted to jump over the cocktail table and kiss her.
Instead, he calmly turned to Ellen.  "I'm not sure that's what Ellen
wants."

Ellen wasn't sure what she wanted, or what was expected.  She enjoyed Guy's
company, but they were running out of things to talk about.  Her life, his
life, both had been covered.  His tour of THE ESTATE kept bringing up more
questions than he was able to answer.  And his mood had definitely soured.
Maybe it would be best to give him some space.  But should she be with
Jennifer and Brenda?  Who else was there?  She didn't want a repeat of the
tea room.

"Ms. Sharpe," Brenda addressed the new conquest, "I'm quite sure I can
answer any questions you have about THE ESTATE."  She then looked at Guy,
then at Jennifer.  "And anything else.  Besides, I'd like to talk to you
about this weekend."  She looked at Guy.  "Girl talk."

Guy quickly took the out Brenda gave him.  He placed his drink on the tray
and stood.  "Then that's it."  He pulled Ellen to her feet and gave her one
of his sloppiest kisses.  "I'll pick you up about 7:30."

He nodded his goodbyes to Jennifer and Ellen.  Ellen was still standing
when Guy pulled the cart onto the street, nearly pulling a wheely in his
haste to get away.  Brenda and Jennifer could barely contain their
laughter.

"Excuse me," Ellen said.  "Am I missing something?"

"Yes, Ellen, quite a lot," Jennifer giggled.

"Sit down, Ms. Sharpe," Brenda said, laughing.  "Mr. Hughes and
Mrs. Thierry have a history, as you know.  Mr. Hughes is not comfortable
with that history, Mrs. Thierry is.  You were just the foil she used to
prick him.  She owes you an apology."  With this last comment Brenda looked
at Jennifer.

"I apologize, Ms. Sharpe," Jennifer said with mock solemnity.

Brenda went to the bar and refreshed her drink.  She returned with a new
Scotch and water for Jennifer.  "So, yesterday Jennifer said you would be a
member of our sorority by now.  Are you?"

Ellen had that deer look again.

"Guy's cock up your ass and down your throat," Jennifer repeated.  Ellen
blushed again.  "God, Ellen, you blush as much as a real woman."  Jennifer
drained her glass.  "How many times has he fucked you?

Ellen nearly whispered.  "Five.

"Five!" both women shouted in unison.

Ellen nodded.

Jennifer went to the bar.  "Congratulations, girlie.  I only got two fucks
out of him my first night.  Only four for the whole weekend.  Five!"

"Well, he did mention something about Viagra."  Ellen offered.

"He was on Viagra with me, Ellen," Jennifer countered.  "Don't sell
yourself short.  Five fucks so far and you still got tonight and tomorrow
morning."  She sat next to Brenda.  "You're gonna have to give her the maxi
tampon."

"You're getting crude, Jen," Brenda said, placing her hand on Jennifer's
thigh.  It was the first time Ellen heard Brenda address a member in the
familiar.  "We do need to discuss specifics, Ellen.  You don't mind if I
call you Ellen, do you?"  Ellen nodded her head.  All this formalilty did
seem a bit pompous to her, especially when Brenda was a good five years
older.  "I need you to say so, Ms. Sharpe."

"No, I don't mind you calling me Ellen."

"Another of the rules, Ellen.  An employee cannot address a member or guest
except by their last name, preceded by the proper honorific.  Unless that
member or guest gives permission, which may be withdrawn at any time for
any reason.  For the rest of this conversation, I think we should be on a
more familiar basis."  Ellen nodded her understanding.  Brenda moved to the
edge of the couch.  How do you feel about Guy's kisses?"  The question
caught Ellen by surprise.  "I mean," Brenda continued, "last night was the
first time you've been kissed by a man, right?"  Ellen nodded.  "So, how do
you feel about it?"

By now Jennifer was pulling the cart into the parking space for THE ESTATE
vehicles.  "I don't know," Ellen answered.  "It was different. ... I didn't
expect it. ... It was pleasant. ... I guess it's like getting fucked--once
it happened, it seemed the natural thing to have happened."

Brenda was satisfied with the answer.  "When Guy fucked you last night, did
you suck his cock?"

Ellen was shocked at the question.  Talk about familiar!  She shook her
head.

"Look, Ellen," Brenda looked at Jennifer.  "We've both been everywhere
you're going," .

"Well, not everywhere," Jennifer pouted.  "He never gave us a tour of THE
ESTATE."

"Ignore her," Brenda continued.  "Did you suck his cock this afternoon?"
Ellen nodded.  "Did you use a condom?"  Again Ellen nodded.  Brenda sighed
in relief.  After this morning, she wasn't sure Guy was playing by the
rules.  "Was this the first time you sucked cock?"  Ellen nodded a third
time.  "Did you enjoy it?"  Ellen hesitated.  "I'll take that to mean no.
Did he fuck you afterwards?"  Ellen nodded again.

"I know these are very personal questions, Ellen, but I'm only asking them
for your benefit.  You told Guy that you didn't want to think of yourself
as a pantied, skirted, pussy whipped cocksucker."  Ellen was surprised that
Brenda knew this.  "There is very little about you I don't know, Ellen.
Well, that's almost what you are.  You're wearing panties and a dress.
You've been fucked in the ass.  Five times!  And you've sucked cock."

Ellen decided not to mention that she was no longer wearing panties.
Brenda's message was clear enough.

"Two and a half years ago I was where you are now."  Brenda continued.
"Only I didn't have anyone to talk to.  I was in that suite at the guest
house, a tampon up my ass, the taste of latex in my mouth, with four hours
to kill before the man who had fucked me three times in 24 hours would pick
me up for dinner, and fuck me again afterwards.  I didn't know why I had
let it all happen, or why I was going to let it happen again.  Jennifer was
in the same spot a little over a year ago.  Now, we can get into the cart
and give you that tour of THE ESTATE we told Mr. Hughes we would do. ... Or
you can talk to us."

Ellen looked at Brenda, sitting on the edge of the couch, to Jennifer,
leaning back against the cushions.  She saw two very attractive women, yet
knew that both were men.  Sissies.  Like her.

"I'd like to talk."

Brenda sighed in relief.  This was a talk she would have to have with Ellen
either tomorrow, before Ellen left, or in the follow-up period by phone.
This way she could get a head-start on debriefing Ellen, with the advantage
of being able to read her face and body language.  And in a more relaxed
environment.

"Ellen," Brenda began, "yesterday I told you that being made love to as a
woman is different than anything you imagined; that there are things you
need to know and do when making love as a woman, but that I could not
explain them to you until after you've become a woman.  I'm going to ask
you a lot of very personal questions.  You must realize that both Jennifer
and I have experienced what you went through last night, this morning, this
afternoon.  We have a very good idea of what will happen this evening,
tonight, tomorrow morning.  When you leave us--THE ESTATE--tomorrow, we
want both Ellen and Nathaniel to be happy with this weekend."

Brenda paused to let everything she'd said sink in.  Ellen looked at her
expectantly, not knowing what was next.  Jennifer continued to lounge
against the back of the couch.

"Have you ever seen a picture of a husky?  You know, one of those Alaskan
sled dogs?"

Ellen nodded, not knowing what dogs or Alaska had to do with her, Guy, or
the pair across from her.

"If you think about any picture of these dogs, you'll see that they are all
in profile--from the side--with the dog standing, his ears perked up, and
his tail curled over his back, exposing his ass.  This pose is called
'standing gay.'  It's the standard pose for all dogs whose tails curl over
their backs: huskies, chows, the like.  Because most people think
homosexuals have sex doggy style, with the receiving partner in this pose,
the term 'gay' is applied to us.  I know this is the first time you've
probably heard any of this.  Most gays don't know why they're called gay.
They think it has something to do with emotions, or lifestyles.  When Guy
fucked you the first time, did he fuck you gay or in the missionary
position?"

Ellen had to think about everything before answering.  "Missionary, I
think."

"There's nothing to think about, Ellen," Brenda corrected.  "There are two
basic positions to get a cock inside you, whether you're a man or a woman.
Either the man fucking you is facing you or is behind you.  If he's facing
you, are you on your back, is he on his back, are you sitting in his lap?
Are you standing up?"  She looked at Jennifer, then back at Ellen.  "So,
which is it?"

"I was on my back," she mumbled.

"Did Guy place you on your back, or did you lay back yourself?"  Ellen had
to think about this.  "He laid me on my back when we got to the bedroom."

"When he first entered you, did it hurt?"

"No," she said meekly.

"Good.  Like I said yesterday, Guy can be a pleasant introduction to
womanhood.  That's helped by the tampon and the cream.  If you continue in
this lifestyle, you're going to hear lots of horror stories about first
times.  In fact, if you have lovers other than Guy, you'll have horror
stories of your own."

Ellen looked at Brenda and Jennifer, who was nodding silently.  Ellen had
not considered having sex with any man other than Guy.  Now she began
wondering if she should.

"When he was inside you completely, was he laying on top of you?"  Ellen
nodded.  "And was he kissing you?"  Ellen nodded again.  "When he started
to move inside you, what did you do?"

Ellen wasn't sure what the question meant.  "I don't know ... what was I
suppose to do?"

"Did you just lay there, letting him have his way with you?  Did you kiss
him back?  What did you do with your legs?  Your arms?"

She's really getting personal, Ellen thought.  "Well, I ... I ... kissed
him when he kissed me.  And I ... I put my legs around him. ... And I
hugged him."

Brenda smiled at Ellen, then at Jennifer.  "How did you put your legs
around him?"

Ellen was now more comfortable answering, although she still felt the
questions impertinent.  "Well ... I guess you want me to say like a woman."

"No, Ellen," Brenda corrected.  "I want you to think about what you did and
understand why.  Now, did you wrap your legs around him like a woman?"

"Yes," Ellen said, with confidence.  "I remember wrapping my legs around
him and crossing my ankles, just like a woman."

"Why?"

Again Ellen had to think about something she had done without thinking
about it.  "Well ... it was really the only thing I could do.  I mean, I
tried leaving them like Guy had left them, but that wasn't too comfortable.
Wrapping them around him was the easiest position to be in, so that's what
I did."

Brenda smiled at her, then at Jennifer again.  Turning back to Ellen.  "And
how many times did he fuck you missionary style?"

"Four."

"And every time you wrapped your legs around him?

"Yes."

"So you laid on your back, spread your legs, let a man crawl between those
legs, fuck you, while you wrapped your legs around him and hugged and
kissed him?  Four times!"

Ellen said nothing, just looked at the cocktail table between her and the
trannies opposite her.

"Congratulations, honey," she heard Jennifer say.  She looked up to see
Jennifer sitting on the edge of the couch next to Brenda.  "You're a member
of the sorority."

Ellen looked from Jennifer to Brenda, realizing that what she had done was
the right thing.  She began smiling.

Brenda continued.  "You've mastered the basics of being fucked as a woman.
I could not have told you how to do the things you did.  Telling a man that
he's to be fucked like a woman, and therefore must perform like a woman, is
rather difficult.  Many of the actions women take they take for comfort,
not from lust.  You should realize that most people outside of Europeans do
not fuck missionary style.  Or at least they didn't before the missionaries
got to them."

At this Brenda smiled again at her own joke.  "I don't think I need to tell
you anything now.  Well, not much.  I know this won't sound romantic, but
you're not here for romance, only for sex.  Guy has a pattern.  The first
night he fucks you missionary style--makes a woman out of you.  How many
times he does this depends on the sissy he's fucking.  How many times did
he fuck you this way?  Last night?"

Definitely not romantic, thought Ellen.  "Twice."

"That's good," Brenda said, oblivious to Ellen's disappointment.  "Now, did
he fuck you from behind?"

Ellen nodded.

"When?"  Ellen looked at Brenda in confusion.  "After the first fuck, the
second?  Last night?  This morning?  This afternoon?"

Brenda and Jennifer both had been gay fucked the morning after, and Brenda
guessed Ellen had too.  But she had to be sure.

"This morning."

"In bed?

"No, in the spa."

"Exactly what did he do?"

Again Ellen had to think about what happened.  "I was looking at myself in
the mirror.  I had removed the wig.  Guy came up behind me and began
handling me ... down there."  At this she looked down again.

"And?" Brenda and Jennifer said in unison.

"Well, Guy had brought us into the spa to clean up, and he was running
water in the spa, and he just came up behind me, and he began touching me
down there, and we went into the water, and he told me to bend over and
rest on the cushions and he got behind me and he did it."

"How did you feel about that?" Brenda asked.

"Well, I didn't really think about it.  He'd fucked me twice already.  And
when I saw myself in the mirror--no wig, my make-up worn off, these
things," she looked at her chest, "sticking out, ... then Guy behind me,
kissing my neck and shoulders, rubbing me down there. ... Well, I just saw
myself as I really am ... a man being fucked by another man. ... So when he
led me to the water and told me what to do, I just did.  I mean, I couldn't
pretend I was a woman then, could I?  I was a man being fucked by another
man.  A sissy."

Brenda looked hard at Ellen.  "Ellen," she asked quietly, "are you ashamed
of being a sissy?"

Ellen was shocked at the question.  She had put aside all thoughts of shame
or propriety yesterday morning.  She had accepted her fate of being fucked,
and fucked as a woman.  She had thought all other considerations were past.
Just like the questions about her going through with her date with Guy,
this question kept coming up.

"No, Brenda, no.  It's just that ... well, a month ago, I wouldn't even
think about this.  Now ... I've been fucked in the ass five times and I've
sucked a man's dick.  I sitting here talking to you wearing a dress.  I
know I'm a sissy.  It'll just take a little getting used to."

Brenda stood and walked to the bar, returning with another scotch and water
for Ellen, and bourbon for herself.  As Brenda handed Ellen the drink,
Jennifer looked at her with a 'where's mine' glance.

"You're driving."  Brenda said.  Sitting back on the couch, she took a long
sip, then looked at Ellen.  "You're going to spend the rest of your life
getting used to being a sissy.  Every time you want to change from
Nathaniel to Ellen and from Ellen to Nathaniel you're gonna have to get use
to being somebody else.  At least you're not into denial.  We are what we
are."  She looked at Jennifer.  "Or what we've become."

Ellen looked at Jennifer, not understanding.  Jennifer glared at Brenda,
then turned to Ellen.  "I've had the operation."

It took Ellen a while to understand, then she nearly spilled her drink.
Brenda nearly burst laughing.  "I don't recommend you do it, Ellen," she
said.  "First, it's very expensive.  Second, you'll be on hormones and
drugs for the rest of your life.  Third, Guy will have nothing to do with
you afterwards.  Fourth, ..."

Ellen's eyes went wide with the third point.  Jennifer interjected.  "Yeah,
that's right.  After I had my dingus whacked off, Guy couldn't stand to be
around me.  Fucks me as a sissy.  Would've fucked me as a real woman.  But
a transsexual?  No way."

Brenda reclaimed the conversation.  "You said that Guy touched you 'down
there.'  Do you mean he touched your dick?"  Ellen nodded.  "Has a man ever
touched your dick?"

Ellen shook her head, then remembered.  "Only the maids yesterday.  They
are men, aren't they?"

Brenda took another sip.  "Well, I guess you can say so."

"They got functioning cocks, Brenda.  They're men, I can vouch for that."
Jennifer informed them.

So can I, thought Brenda.  She looked at Ellen.  "What did you think about
Guy handling you?"

"Well, he'd handled it the night before, so I didn't think about it at
all."

"The night before?"

"Yeah," Ellen continued.  "Before he fucked me the first time, he put this
rubber on me and sucked me off.  Kissed my balls and between my legs and
everything."

"What did you think about that?"

"Well, I was ... kinda shocked.  I didn't expect that, never thought about
it.  I kinda expected I would have to suck his dick, but I never thought
that he'd suck mine, or want to.  But he did ... and other things down
there that none of my girlfriends had ever done."

"So you thought that gay sex was the female partner doing
everything--sucking cock, jacking the other person's cock, bending and
spreading."  Brenda said.

Ellen nodded again.  Brenda tried not to sound disgusted.  "Like I said
yesterday.  There's lots of stereotypes about gay sex.  Even among gays.
And lots of misogyny.  You thought that as the woman you would have to do
what you thought was female.  And you've identified those things as passive
and servile and demeaning.  Well, Guy is a cocksucker.  He's not passive or
servile.  He doesn't wear panties or a dress or make-up or wigs.  But he
definitely is a cocksucker.  Did you find what he did demeaning?"

Ellen shook her head.  She was very confused.  Everything Brenda said was
right.  She had felt that way.  Now she didn't know what to feel.

"When Guy fucked you gay," Brenda said, "did he continue to jack you off?"
Another nod.  "Did you enjoy it?"  Nod again.  "Did you cum?"  A third nod.
"Was Guy fucking you when you came?"

Ellen didn't know.  "I think so."

Brenda knew, but needed Ellen to realize what happened.  "I don't mean was
he still inside you.  I mean was he fucking you or had he cum when you
came, or did you cum together?"

Ellen realized she had no idea.  "I don't know."

"Did you enjoy cumming like that."  Ellen looked quizzically at Brenda.
"With Guy inside you and his hand jacking you off.  Did you enjoy that."

"I didn't think about it."

Jennifer sat up.  "Didn't think about it?  Ellen, girl, you came!  You must
have enjoyed it!"  Ellen just stared blankly at Jennifer.

"Ellen," Brenda interceded, "Guy usually fucks us gay the morning after.
He does it because it's expected, for one thing.  Most sissies don't feel
right until they've been fucked gay.  Second, it is a pleasurable fuck for
the sissy.  When you're being fucked missionary, you don't really get
anything out of it.  Your cock is in the wrong place, your ass is being
reamed, the angle is not right, your legs are never in a comfortable
position.

"Being fucked gay is natural, which is why so many people assume that's how
gays fuck.  Your ass is available and lined up; the man can control your
body, and most important, he can jack you off as he fucks you.  Guy is very
good at that.  Plus he kisses your neck and ears and back while he's doing
you."  Brenda sighed.  "Like I said, not a bad introduction."

Ellen looked from Brenda to Jennifer, who was nodding again.

"By the way, Ellen, did you use a condom when you sucked Guy's dick?"
Brenda asked.

Ellen nodded vigorously.  She didn't want another lecture.

"Did you enjoy it?"

Ellen wavered between what she wanted to say and what she thought she
should say.  She decided on the truth; she shook her head negatively.

"Neither did I," Brenda confided.  "The condom is part of it.  A latex
popsicle doesn't taste good, even if it's flavored.  And you have to used
protection at THE ESTATE.  But I sucked Guy off premises without it, and I
still didn't like it.  Not that he tastes bad, I'm just not a cocksucker."
She looked at Jennifer.  "Like some people."

Jennifer slouched back into the couch.  "I'm gonna have to get you off
premises, Ms. Duncan."

Brenda and Jennifer smiled at each other.  Brenda turned to Ellen, "You
don't have to suck Guy any more than you have to let him fuck you.  Guy is
a wonderful cocksucker, as you've found out.  He doesn't like the latex
either, but it's one of the few ways we sissies can get off.  There are no
pleasure producing nerves in your ass.  Anyone who says he have an orgasm
being fucked there is lying.  There's just one more thing."

Ellen looked at her expectantly.

"When you're being fucked missionary style, the anatomy does get in the
way.  Just let it.  Unless you want to go the dingus whacker route," she
placed her hand on Jennifer's thigh near her crotch, "it's gonna be there.
Guy doesn't mind, so you shouldn't either.  Okay?"

Ellen nodded.  She had wondered what to do with her penis.  Guy had only
mentioned it that first time, when he sucked her off.  Every other time he
had orally serviced her, then fucked her.  Her dick was soft by then.

"Good.  Now, we're supposed to complete the grand tour of THE ESTATE,
right?"  She stood, looking down at Jennifer.  "You've got the wheels,
Mrs. Thierry."

Jennifer pulled herself to her feet, headed for the door.  As they climbed
into the golf cart, Diana Trevor was peeking through the curtains of her
cottage.  Georgina Mettrinos had stormed out of the cottage yesterday and
not returned.  Diana had called Sylvia, who had located the older woman,
and was bringing her to the cottage.  That was yesterday.  No Georgina, no
Sylvia.  Diana, keeping vigil at her window, wondered who the three women
climbing into the golf cart were.  She had seen the salt-and-pepper duo
leave in the morning, come back with what looked like a straight couple,
only to have the man leave in a huff minutes later.  Diana was certain she
was watching three lesbians who had just spent the afternoon with their
heads between each others' legs.  Did they need a fourth for bridge?

As Jennifer pulled the cart onto the street, Brenda rode shotgun, Ellen was
in the back.  More interesting than the legend of Col. Dwight Linden was
how THE ESTATE was founded and its early years, which Brenda told as she
explained various buildings on the grounds.

***

Postcards from THE ESTATE: Guy and Ellen Part VIII