Corporate Incentives

Corporate Incentives

By Gingerfred Man

NOTE: Some of this was drawn almost verbatim from a story I posted under another nom de smut for a different genre. So, since one can't plagiarize oneself, please don't accuse me of plagiarism. Most of it is new.

Chapter One -- Movin' on up

Nathan Harden trembled with excitement.

The 34-year-old mid-level executive of Amalgamated Global Widgets had just gotten "The Call."

The Call was when an executive of the 20,000-employee, multi-billion-dollar, worldwide, wildly-successful corporate giant was promoted to become one of the company's 20 vice presidents.

Nathan had reached the powerful pinnacle. And ensured his future.

More money.

Lots more.

More power. Which was always appreciated.

And something that had been whispered about in the organization but always remained murky and undefined.

Nathan would become one of 21 members of the AGW Executive Club, which occupied the top three floors of the 64-floor AGW Tower.

No one but the members had any notion of what went on there. What was known was that the members spent a huge portion of their free time at the Club.

So it must be good, right?

Having dedicated himself to the success of AGW and his personal success, Nathan was single. He had little or no social life.

So the only people he could call with his good news were his parents. They were delighted, though Nathan's mom repeated her constant admonition to Nathan that he "not work so hard."

Hard work was what made Nathan the youngest member of the Club. Nathan wasn't about to stop now.

Amalgamated Global Widgets CEO Dan Stiffman had called Nathan with the good news at 4 p.m. that Friday and invited Nathan to join him in the Club at 6 p.m. Moments after the call ended, AGW's security chief showed up, giving Nathan his access documents and badges. Then the security official took Nathan to his new, huge office and showed him how to access the Club's secure elevator.

Nathan wondered a little why security was air tight. But mostly he just oozed appreciation, anticipation, excitement and curiosity.

At 5:55, as directed Nathan entered the elevator and punched "64."

Deep breaths.

What would the Club be like?

The elevator door opened and Nathan saw a small reception area with a single desk. He was greeted by a neat, trim, short, 50-something man who said, "Good evening, Mr. Harden, sir. Welcome to the Club. I'm Geoffrey, the Club's head concierge. I'm here to make your visits to the Club as pleasurable as you clearly deserve. Mr. Stiffman has asked that I take you to his suite immediately. Your suite, a very nice one indeed, will be on the floor below. I'll take you there after you meet with Mr. Stiffman."

Without asking for questions, Geoffrey led Nathan briskly to the rear of the building. At precisely 6 p.m., Geoffrey slid in a key card, opened the door, asked Nathan to enter without him, then disappeared.

Leaving Nathan in the entryway of a beautifully-appointed apartment. With some furniture, but no walls, except for a bathroom in the far right corner. In the far left corner, was a large bed. And something Nathan never thought he would see at AGW.

Unless Nathan's 20-20 eyeballs were failing him, a man was fucking a young woman.

A very pretty young woman.

Nathan watched in horror as the couple grunted and wrestled though an act that they both were clearly enjoying very much. The man and young woman were standing. The man was naked and behind the young woman, with his cock buried deeply in her pink, plump bottom.

The young woman was wearing only a ruffled, pink garter belt; hooked to pink seamed, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings. She was balancing herself on pink, four-inch-stiletto sandals. No bra.

Her panties were down to mid thigh.

In their rutting passion, they turned to face Nathan. They were so enraptured by their intense pleasure, neither had seen him yet.

But he saw the young woman, truly saw her, for the first time.

She wasn't a woman!!

She had a tiny, three-inch cock that was standing tall and drooling pre-cum as she screamed out the name of her fucker: "Oh, Mr. Stiffman!"

An icy butcher knife of fear stabbed Nathan's heart,

He had interrupted his CEO, Mr. Stiffman in a perverse act of homosexual sodomy!!!

It was all over for Nathan. He knew that. Mr. Stiffman would be furious at Nathan for stumbling in on this display of Stiffman's disgusting satisfaction of the CEO's raw, immoral, and [gasp] GAY (!) appetites.

Nathan would be banned from AGW, of course. Some phony reason concocted for his fall from grace.

If he was lucky, that is. More than likely, Stiffman would call security and have Nathan thrown off the AGW Tower roof.

"We never knew he was suicidal. Our prayers go out to his family," the official statement would read in part.

Maybe there was still time to run...slip out unnoticed. But Nathan's feet wouldn't move. And then...

The gorgeous pantyboy squealed in rapture and started spunking in high, creamy arcs!

Oh my!

Despite Nathan's terror, his cock was diamond-hard.

Then he heard Mr. Stiffman groan loudly, increase the rapidity of his butt-strokes, then roll his eyes back in his head and shudder through a Force Ten orgasm.

Nathan still couldn't move. Despite his fears, he HAD to see what he was seeing through to its conclusion. For no reason that Nathan vaguely understood.

Then, the inevitable.

"Ah, there you are, Harden," the CEO said. "Good of you to be on time. I'm so glad you've become a Club member. Gina, this is Mr. Harden. Nathan, meet Gina."

Huh?????????

Who? What? When? Where? Why? How?

Stiffman was clearly enjoying Nathan's astonishment. New members always acted like that. Proving that security about the Club's activities was still air tight. As tight as some of the "residents'" pretty bottoms.

Stiffman watched as Nathan's mind tried to sort out the unsortable. The CEO also checked out Nathan's crotch and confirmed that the young, "up-and-cumming" executive was painfully erect.

If he weren't, there could have been "complications."

Stiffman also noticed another good sign. Nathan was staring slack-jawed at Gina. Who was playing the shy little pantyboy to a fine turn.

Gina peeked at Nathan through her downcast eyes and inch-long eyelashes. She didn't seem embarrassed by her nakedness, the flood of her sissy cream on her flat belly, her gaping bottomhole where Stiffman's cock had just enjoyed a slice of paradise, or the rivulet of Stiffman's cum that was running down her asscrack and onto her testicles.

Good gravy, Gina was beautiful, Nathan thought. And she loved having a man's cock in her bottom!

Looking a bit more closely, Nathan was startled by Gina's exceptional use of cosmetics to enhance her natural beauty. Her boy-length hair looked incongruous, as did her tiny tickler.

Why was the pantyboy in Mr. Stiffman's suite at that moment? The CEO knew Nathan was coming at six. Did he forget? Wasn't Stiffman worried about fucking a pantyboy so "openly?" In front of one of his vice presidents?

Was he showing off?

Or was he telling Nathan something? Something about what happened at the Club?

In addition to those huge, life-altering/threatening questions, Nathan had to ask himself why his cock was stiff at what he just saw? And why was he still staring at that gorgeous pantyboy?

Oh. The pantyboy was looking at Nathan full blast. And smiling -- half shyly -- half teasingly.

Did the pantyboy want Nathan "that way???????"

Did Nathan want the pantyboy "that way???????"

What Nathan thought was going to be one of the best moments in his life had quickly evolved into its most terrifying.

Gina walked across the room to retrieve her sheer, pink, shorty peignoir. She put it on, making sure that Nathan got a nice, long look at her plump, pink, cum-drooling bottom. Then she walked back to Stiffman and tilted her head for a goodbye kiss. Which Stiffman delivered enthusiastically. With lots of tongue.

Gina gave Nathan one last seductive look, then left the suite to a naked Mr. Stiffman and his horror-stricken employee.

"That pantyboy is an angel," the unselfconscious Stiffman said to the still-trembling Nathan. "But we have about 30 others like her `in residence' right now. I'm sure you'll meet them all. And, since it's clear that Gina is interested in you, don't disappoint her, OK?"

What? Stiffman didn't want Nathan to "disappoint" Gina?

What did that mean?

Nathan couldn't ever...

"That's what we do here at the Club, Harden," Stiffman said. "We recruit, house and love the prettiest, youngest, legal-age pantyboys we can find. No one knows about it. No one will know. You're free to do what every man's DNA tells him to do. Fuck pretty pantyboys. I know, I know. You're uncomfortable with the idea. We all were at first. But it's not only the best executive incentive program any corporation ever had, it's the main reason, I think, behind Amalgamated Global Widgets stunning success.

"No AGW executive wastes time. Minimal meetings. No bullshit. We all want to get our work done and get upstairs to the Club.

"Every AGW executive does an outstanding job. Anyone who doesn't gets booted from the Club -- a punishment worthy of Dante or Milton.

"So we've found the formula for success and now you're part of it, Nathan Harden. Welcome, my friend."

At that, Stiffman shook Nathan's hand, then pushed a button. The suite door opened and Geoffrey appeared. "Geoffrey, please show Mr. Harden to his suite. And ask Susan to stop by for the evening and night if you would. Thank you, Geoffrey."

"Very good, sir," Geoffrey replied, then led a still-shocked Nathan out the door and to the elevator and down to floor 63.

During the brief ride, Geoffrey said, "We've taken the liberty of moving your clothing and personal items from your apartment to your Club suite, sir. The gentlemen all prefer that. If you wish to keep your apartment, you may, but no one ever does."

That was a huge liberty, Nathan mused. And how did they get past the three deadbolts on Nathan's door?

Nathan followed Geoffrey obediently to Suite 6321, which Geoffrey showed Nathan how to open with his thumbprint.

And Nathan stepped into what would be his new world.

Chapter Two -- Nathan's First Pantyboy

It was a beautiful apartment -- way better than Nathan's "former" abode. Unlike the CEO's suite, it had rooms and walls.

As Geoffrey showed Nathan around, he thought he heard water running and asked Geoffrey if he heard it too.

"Yes, sir," Geoffrey said. "Young Miss Gina asked if she could clean up in your shower. I told her you wouldn't mind. Perhaps you would like to join Miss Gina, sir. I'm sure Mr. Stiffman would be pleased if you did."

Join that gorgeous pantyboy? In the shower? Naked? Both man and pantyboy? Mr. Stiffman would be pleased?

Nathan accepted the inevitability of his situation.

Hell, he embraced it. Geoffrey smiled, then made a hasty exit as Nathan stripped off his business suit and underwear, took a deep breath, then, naked, entered his new bathroom.

It was quite steamy in there, but through the clear-glass shower door, Nathan could see Gina's stunning, naked body. The pantyboy was soaping her stiff little penis; rubbing suds all over her tiny testicles; rubbing her bottomhole with a very lucky washcloth.

The 18-year-old angel noticed Nathan for the first time and gave the man a 1,000-watt smile.

Nathan melted in its glow. Then he pulled open the shower door and entered to face his destiny.

Thankfully for Gina (and this story) Nathan had an excellent body. Hard and lean, with hair in the right places. And a fine, seven-inch, thick cock with hairy ball bag as a side dish.

Gina gasped approvingly as she looked Nathan up and down. Which was the final spark to ignite Nathan's fires of lust.

Just as Nathan reached to pull her into his arms, Gina turned around. So Nathan's arms encircled her from behind.

Gina responded to Nathan's touch the way we wish all our lovers would. She gasped with pleasure and leaned back slightly to engage more of Nathan's skin with his own.

The shower water fell on the lovers as Nathan rubbed his stiff penis against the sweet furrow above Gina's ass cheeks. He kissed the young lovely's neck, reveling in Gina's response. Gina's little whimpers and mews of pleasure nearly made Nathan lose his man's cream right then.

But he soldiered on.

Kissing the young beauty's neck. Reaching around to rub his soapy hands on Gina's large, erect nipples. Making the pantyboy pant with lust.

Gina turned her head back, inviting an open-mouthed kiss and Nathan eagerly accepted.

Without disengaging from the kiss, Gina turned herself so that she was once again facing Nathan as they kissed. And rubbed cocks.

Then Gina rubbed her soapy hands on Nathan's cock as they kissed until Nathan begged her to stop. "I want to fuck you, Sweetie," he said.

Gina moaned in anticipation. Then she turned away from Nathan and raised her hands. Placing her flat palms on the shower wall and spreading her legs. Pushing her bottom toward Nathan.

The kind of thing that should happen for more of us more often.

[Sigh]

Anyway, Nathan had only had intercourse twice in his life and neither was of the anal flavor. But that didn't stop him.

The concept was simple enough and Nathan was a top executive. He entered Gina's bottom with two soapy fingers, just to make sure she was ready for a good, stiff fucking.

Gina was VERY ready. And her delicious moans and gasps as Nathan fingered her pootie made the whole experience better for both of them.

Nathan found Gina's prostate and, believing that a delay would prolong his later pleasure, Nathan tormented the pretty boy's prostate with his naughty fingers until Gina was screaming, shuddering and shooting out her sperm in big, creamy globs.

Nathan could wait no more. Gina had barely spurted her last semen drop when Nathan removed his fingers from Gina's anus and placed his thick cock at the entrance.

Thinking briefly, "This wasn't exactly what I thought I'd be doing tonight," Nathan slid his cockhead and half of his shaft into Gina's tight, but welcoming pussy.

Gina cried out in an agony of lust then begged for "all of it" in an almost unintelligible murmur. Nathan, feeling like the Studmuffin of the Western Hemisphere, obliged the needy beauty.

The scream Gina emitted was worthy of the collective cacophony of a full theater when the teen girl goes into the abandoned shed to see if the monster is there.

In reality, Nathan's cock, while very pleasing to Gina, didn't hurt the oft-fucked angel at all. But she knew a good scream makes a man feel more like a super-hung stud.

That was a bit of fakery, but the four-star orgasm Gina just had was 100% real. Gina liked Mr. Harden. He was handsome, hunky and younger than most of the AGW executives. Mr. Harden hadn't gotten over "sissy shock" yet. But he would. They all did.

Nathan wasn't thinking about sissy shock as his cock plowed the hottest, sexiest tunnel it had ever visited. He was thinking about what was promising to be the biggest orgasm of his life. The kind that sends you lots of progressively urgent signals, then, when you've abandoned your resistance to its consummation, it throws you out the airplane door at 20,000 feet with no parachute. You feel it all the way to your little toe.

Three more thrusts and...two...and Nathan moaned and emptied all his bodily fluids into the asshole of the new love of his life, Gina Somebody-or-Other.

Gina gripped Nathan's cock with her asshole as Nathan was cumming, making the pleasure almost agonizing.

When it was over, the exhausted lovers turned the water off, dried each other and got into bed naked for some gentle kissing and fondling. Until things got too hot for such a calm approach.

Half an hour after Nathan's orgasm to end all orgasms, he pumped a huge load of his sperm and semen down young Gina's throat.

One hour after that, Nathan ate out an asshole for the first time in his life. And made Gina spurt and fall madly in love with Nathan.

Gina expressed that love by sitting on the prone Nathan, then sliding the man's stiff cock into Gina's sopping bottom hole. Gina leaned over and kissed Nathan as she rode the man's cock for almost an hour.

That third, and nastiest orgasm made Nathan wonder whether his death benefit package was in order.

Afterwards, the lovers cuddled and went to sleep. Eager to rest so they could refuel for the next round of corporate incentives.

Chapter Three – Gina's Day Off

The next morning, Nathan awoke in the most wonderful manner possible. His cock was being sucked by an amazingly beautiful pantyboy who appeared to be in ravenous pursuit of Nathan's sperm.

Nathan's eyes fluttered, almost opening but not quite, as he remembered the details of the greatest night of his (or anyone's) life. Four rutting, heaving downloads of his sperm into Gina's utterly delicious bum. Innumerable kisses of passion and lust.

Just before Nathan fell into an exhausted sleep, he vowed to propose marriage to Gina. They would run off together to a secluded beach somewhere and make love forever in a grass hut.

Details to follow.

As soon as he heaved his morning load down Gina's sweet throat, Nathan would keep his vow.

Oh!

That would be occurring very soon.

Gina's mouth was amazingly talented.

Nathan's back arched and he FLUNG his sperm down Gina's throat, crying out most unmanfully.

When his pleasure abated a smidge, he opened his eyes to thank Gina, kiss her, and ask if he could satisfy her in like manner. Which would be a first for Nathan. But something he intended to add to his sexual repertoire.

And then things got strange.

As if living in a corporate pantyboy harem weren't strange enough.

The incredibly beautiful face smiling at Nathan, cum drooling from its lips, was not Gina's.

It was another pantyboy!

Every bit as delicious as Gina. With short, boy-length hair like Gina's. But not Gina.

"I'm glad you liked that, Mr. Harden," the young beauty said. "Would you like me to suck you to a second stand so we can fuck? I'm all lubed for you?"

Nathan's eyes bugged a bit. "Who are you?" he asked, reasonably enough.

"Oh," "Sorry. I'm Linda. Gina asked me to spend time with you today. It being Saturday, you'll be off all day and we can have fun until six. Then just call the concierge and he'll fix you right up. Unless..." [pouty face] "you don't like me."

Nathan was quick to dispel that. "I like you a lot, Linda. And I definitely want to make love to you. But what happened to Gina? And why can we only have fun until six p.m.?"

"It's all in the member's handbook, Mr. Harden. I know you haven't had a chance to read it yet. But the only thing that would kill our wonderful club would be jealousy. So no pantyboy can be with a member more than 12 hours every three days. No one can break that rule. Not even Mr. Stiffman."

Nathan considered that for a moment. Maybe he wouldn't have to abduct Gina and take her to a place where no one used toothpaste. Especially if..."

"Are all the ladies as beautiful and `friendly' as you and Gina?"

Linda smiled. "Oh yes, sir. Gina and I are only average."

Impossibly, Nathan's cock was hard as Gibraltar when it was 18 years old.

"On your back, please, Sweetie. With your knees up. Legs apart"

Linda complied eagerly.

Meanwhile, Gina was getting herself ready for her weekly day off.

Although there was often perspiration during its activities, the AGW corporate harem was no sweat shop.

Each of the girlie-boys had a day off each week. Plus a week's vacation each quarter.

If they wanted it.

Some of the 30-plus pantyboys in residence chose to never take a day or a week off. Reasoning that they were already in the best possible situation on earth, so why ever leave?

Most went home once or twice a year. Either to visit family, show off their stunning femininity to their childhood acquaintances, or both.

Gina took all the time off she was given.

Not because she disliked "working" at AGW. On the contrary, Gina ADORED her job, her co-workers and the Club members who were her "gentleman callers."

Gina left the executive club floors when she could because she loved being admired.

Not that there wasn't a lot of admiration going on at AGW.

The members deeply (very deeply) admired the "ladies in residence." But who could live in such a paradise without becoming a bit jaded?

The members saved their deepest admiration for the two or three startlingly beautiful "twelves or higher" who passed through the Club at the peak of their youthful sexuality.

At that moment, Gina knew that to include pretty much only Alicia (a clear 13) or the astounding Vanessa (a 15 in anyone's book). More about them later.

Gina, as a mere 11, was truly lost in the crowd.

But on the streets of New York, where she spent most Saturdays, Gina was a traffic stopper.

Gina had slipped away from the exhausted Mr. Harden at 6 a.m. and napped in her own bed until 9.

She arose, piddled and bathed. Then called the kitchen for two poached eggs on wheat toast. Which was delivered perfectly ten minutes later.

The pantyboys were all treated like princesses by the staff. And the pantyboys reciprocated in the sweetest possible way – with hungry, filthy, screaming sex anyway the staff people wanted it.

Gina watched the news as she ate her eggs. Then she set to work on her make-up.

She didn't want the slutty look that many members wanted from their "dates." No sense overdoing her sexuality in public. She made her face up as if she were going to work as a second-year associate for a big law firm.

Pleased with her delicious, cosmetized beauty, Gina slid on a pair of impossibly sheer, black stockings, then hooked them to a very naughty garter belt.

She stood in front of one of the six full-length mirrors in her bedroom and liked what she saw.

Gina didn't have Vanessa's two-inch-diameter nipples or 1.25-inch eyelashes, but she was very beautiful. And her little penis was painfully hard.

The poor girl hadn't been fucked in nearly seven hours! Her tiny peener was painfully stiff. And her little peanuts were aching.

Gina gave herself seven or eight long, slow, foreskin tugs and, oh my. She drenched the mirror!

Again.

Maybe for the 100th time since coming to AGW seven months earlier. Days after her 18th birthday.

Back when Gina was known as Karl Schickelgruber from Sandusky, Ohio.

Young Karl had been wearing Mommy's clothes since he was 10.

When Mommy inevitably caught Karl, the pretty boy didn't act the least bit guilty or remorseful. Which eventually convinced his single mother that she should tolerate Karl's "interest" in femininity.

By the time Karl was in high school, Mom was encouraging Karl to crossdress. And date boys. And join a rogue branch of the Miniskirt Club.

Perspective here.

When the Mormon elders renounced polygamy, not all the church members heeded. Some "cultists" continued to enter multi-wife marriages.

When the national Miniskirt Club changed the age range from 14 to 25 to 18 to 25, some rogues roguishly kept a secret club of 14 to 17-year-old rogues.

Karl was such a rogue.

AGW did much of its "recruiting" through contacts in such secret clubs. Paying huge finders' fees to any club leader referring an eventual AGW Club hostess.

Karl's mother was approached by an anonymous recruiter. Karl was approached. Karl was interviewed for the position. In a number of positions.

Karl's mother got a huge payoff. Karl got a dream job. That let him live full time as Gina. Tax-free salary of $200,000 per year. And a scholarship fund that would take him through a PhD at any school in the galaxy.

And Karl loved cock!

The job gave Karl cock.

All he could eat.

It was perfect.

That Saturday, Gina wiped off her penis tip with a lucky Kleenex and continued dressing.

The staff would clean up.

Gladly.

She wore a lovely little powder-blue dress, hem just above the knee. With a peter pan collar. Over her black panties and bra. Black, patent-leather, three-inch-stiletto pumps.

Yum.

For the billionth time, Gina bristled at the AGW rule that required the hostesses to have boy-length hair.

But she augmented it with a barrette and a ribbon.

Maybe the hair-length wasn't an entirely awful idea, she thought. It was certainly attention grabbing. Add Gina's obviously flat chest and one would wonder what was under that skirt.

A little mystery. And naughtiness.

Gina blushed at the thought that the wind could blow up her skirts and expose her panties and [blush] stiffie in her panties.

Gina was always stiff when she was walking around town.

She shuddered at the shame of being exposed like that in public.

And had to breathe heavily to calm down and make sure she didn't soak her panties.

Gina said goodbye to Nigel, who was the on-duty concierge that Saturday morning. Goodness. Nigel hadn't fucked her in nearly two weeks. She was going to have to be less neglectful.

Then Gina took the secret elevator to the third basement. Got out. Boarded the tunnel tram that went for five blocks. Got off and onto a second elevator to street level. Then emerged into open air a safe, undetectable distance from AGW. From a building marked as a modeling agency

Oh my.

Were men stopping in their tracks to stare at her beauty?

They were!

Lots of men.

Oh dear.

Gina soaked up the adoration. Then soaked her panties.

She couldn't help it.

It was even better, in some ways, than when Mister Stiffman, her favorite lover, fucked her perfect bum.

Good thing she had three fresh pairs of panties in her tiny purse.

Gina squished along for two blocks, all but stopping traffic. Then ducked into the ladies room of a ritzy hotel to change her panties.

Leaving her soaked panties on a coat hook in the ladies room.

Gina decided to sit for a while and see what developed.

She went outside to an outdoor café and ordered an espresso.

The waiter brought it immediately and was drooling when Gina crossed her legs.

Gina wore her sunglasses so that she could check out the men (and women) checking her out.

They were legion.

After an hour of that, Gina arose, paid her check and clacked off. Wiggling her bum most deliciously. For three blocks.

And entered the New York Public Library.

Her manner was a bit more purposeful as she entered the stacks in the science section. Where no real American would ever go.

Deserted.

Gina knew that none of the men drooling over her would follow her into such a place. Filled with sciencey book-learnin'.

Safety.

She looked to her left. No one. To her right. No one.

Suddenly...

From behind.

Gina felt a hand move under her skirt.

And hot kisses on her neck!

The rude hand was manipulating her foreskin!

And the kisses were burning her flesh.

Gina sighed.

"Right on time, Eric!" she said. And she turned her head so that her lover could kiss her full on the mouth.

Gina had met Eric three Saturdays earlier. When she had ducked into the science stacks to catch her breath and shoot her sperm after all that male adoration.

Eric was a librarian.

Eric was the head librarian in the science section.

At first, Eric was not a feast for Gina's eyes.

He was only Gina's height in heels.

He wore big glasses.

But he was nice.

And, as Gina discovered within 20 minutes of their acquaintance, Eric had the biggest cock Gina had ever seen.

And Gina loved cock.

Gina and Eric owned the science section. They could and did engage in all sorts of filthy delights there.

And, once he revealed "The Beast" to Gina, Eric owned Gina.

Gina's teeny peeny didn't put Eric off one bit. He adored Gina's penis. And, when he took Gina to his studio apartment that first Saturday after his shift, Eric licked and sucked it, ate Gina's bumhole and fucked her silly.

Gina was in love!

Eric was in love:

But, as Gina explained, she was involved in a very hush-hush clinical trial for six days a week for two years. So she could only see Eric on Saturdays. After which, they could run off to Fiji together and fuck in a grass hut seven days a week.

Eric didn't believe a word of it. But you don't call someone a liar when she's giving you leg-staggering sex every week.

Eric and Gina would just have to be happy with Saturdays for the moment.

That particular Saturday, Gina was delighted to hear Eric say that he had managed to get the rest of the day off.

Which meant that they could go to Eric's humble digs and fuck in private. And comfort. Like grownups.

Though the thrill of fear in being discovered would be missing.

So a compromise was struck.

Right there in the stacks, Eric bent Gina over and sliced her bottom hole with his fat penis. Until she spunked deliciously. Twice. To Eric's once.

Then they gathered up panties and such and went off to Eric's place for some serious fucking.

Eric was under no 12-hour restriction. And Gina wasn't due back until 10 a.m. the next morning.

They made good use of the time.

All of it

Chapter Four – Alicia (the 13, remember?)

The policies and procedures of the AGW Executive Club had been honed to a sharp point over the club's 36-year history.

It seems so silly today, but in 1981, the Club founders thought they could run the club with female hostesses.

Females!!!!

Uncooperative, nagging, manipulative, emasculating, sexually-uninterested females!! Who could and did get pregnant.

Not to mention the one-week-a-month downtimes. Moody downtimes.

Jealousy. Disinterest. Lack of sexual empathy. Indiscretion about the Club.

It was a disaster. And almost killed a beautiful idea.

Until Bradley Boner, a junior VP at the time, suggested pantyboys.

First thought of the members – "But I'm not gay."

Second thought – "Who are those amazing babes whom Bradley just brought in?"

Third thought - "Oh my! They have stiff cocks."

Fourth thought – "Bradley, you're a genius."

No recorded thoughts after that.

Bradley's portrait hangs in all the common areas of the Club.

Other brilliance was born of failure over the years.

Jealousy and possessiveness threatened the Club until the "Fuck her all you want, but only for 12 hours out of each three days" rule.

Those were the biggies.

A notable tweak was the policy that prevented new members from fucking any hostess rated over an 11 during the first 60 days of membership.

It was all about shaping expectations.

So there was no way that Nathan was getting his hands on or cock into Alicia (rated a 13) or Vanessa (a 15) for at least two months.

Too bad, Alicia thought. Mr. Harden was young and hung.

But she couldn't complain too much.

Alicia had all the cock any pantyboy could ever want.

Attached to nice men.

Who adored pantyboys.

And especially adored Alicia.

Though some of them were kind of old.

Two were in their sixties. Four in their fifties.

Though those six were still skilled, caring lovers.

Alicia loved them.

But she also loved her day off.

Which was Tuesday.

Alicia sucked the absolute last drop of Mr. Seaman's ball juice out of his gently squeezed testicles and sent him off to work that Tuesday morning.

Mr. Seaman was such a dear.

Alicia adored the time she spent in carnal combat with the sweet man.

Mr. Seaman was 48. Just finishing his fourth year of Club membership. So he was ardent about making up for not earning membership when he was 35 or so.

Among the world's biggest lies is, "I'm leaving my wife for you, Pumpkin. I mean it!"

When Mr. Seaman became a member, he moved into his AGW apartment that day. And served Clara her divorce papers that week.

Clara got a huge settlement.

Mr. Seaman got all the pussy he could eat.

A win-win.

Alicia kissed her lover du jour sweetly. Right on the glans. Then gathered up the lingerie she had worn to their sleepover and slid out of his room.

She pranced down the hall.

Naked, except for stockings and garters.

On big heels.

Delicious bottom swaying. And leaking cum.

A lovely sight.

Besides being the second most beautiful lady in residence, Alicia had the biggest cock of them all – 7.34 inches. And it was almost always stiff, dripping and hungry for her men's kisses.

Alicia smiled to see her "sisters" emerging from their paramours' rooms. Carrying their lingerie. Facially spermed. Bums drooling spunk.

What a wonderful place the AGW Executive Club was!

Five of the lovelies shared an elevator down to the 62nd floor, where each pantyboy had a small, private apartment.

Despite their passion- and sperm-filled nights, Kathy and Donna were arranging a morning "lezzie" hookup in Kathy's room.

"I'm not fucking anybody until I get some sleep," Heidi said. "Mr. Longstroke's cock didn't sleep at all last night."

Nicole agreed.

Alicia just smiled.

Weekdays at the Club were member-free until they finished work at 5. The ladies usually hooked up with the concierges or staff members. Or each other. Or just slept.

Alicia had a better plan for her day off.

She napped until 11. Then breakfasted. Showered. And ordered a costume change from Central Logistics.

Alicia was going to play "Waiting for Daddy." A thrilling but dangerous game. Out in the big world.

Like Gina, Alicia dressed and took the secret exit. Out on the street, Alicia almost caused a riot.

Not only because of her beauty.

Also because of her outfit.

Alicia was wearing the kind of dress that 11-year-old girls once wore to a birthday party. Pink. With lots of petticoats. And MUCH exposed leg. No stockings. Little, white, girlie socks, with pink ruffles. And single-strap, black, patent-leather, Mary Jane shoes with a two-inch, block heel.

Thank goodness Alicia only had to walk a block and a half to her objective.

Wild packs of men were already forming and surrounding her.

Alicia entered a very ritzy hotel and set about acting out her fantasy.

The beautiful angel looked distressed.

Sitting nervously in a plush chair. Then pacing. Watching the hotel's front door.

Drawing the attention of exactly the kind of person Alicia had targeted.

Justin Richman was a 48-year-old captain of industry. Staying at the ritzy hotel after hammering out a lovely business deal that would oppress the masses and ruin the environment.

America First!

He was about to enjoy a late lunch before going back to his room and making lots more money over phone and Internet.

But then he spotted Alicia.

And every pore in his body tingled.

Justin wasn't a pedophile. Exactly. But he did have some fantasies in that direction.

The sight of Alicia, looking impossibly beautiful, young and distressed aroused feelings Justin didn't know he had.

Was that empathy, he felt?

Yes.

Yes it was.

Along with lust.

But empathy.

Pondering all that could have robbed Justin of his opportunity to help that delicious young lady. Then fuck her later.

So he moved toward her quickly.

And got to Alicia first.

"Excuse me, Miss," Justin said, empathetically. "Are you all right?"

Alicia looked at Justin and sized him up. Handsome. Prosperous. Good shape. He would do.

She began to sob miserably.

Oh no.

There was that empathy thing again.

Was Justin becoming a Democrat?

Heaven forbid.

But he stepped forward and hugged Alicia through her convulsive tears.

Finally, Alicia managed to sob out, "Daddy was supposed to meet me here and take me to Tiffany's birthday party. But he's late again! Probably playing cards and losing the rent money."

More sobbing.

That didn't seem completely plausible to Justin. How did the little doll end up dressed like that in a ritzy hotel? When her father kept losing the rent money?

But men eventually learn not to look gift pussy in the mouth.

"That's terrible, Sweetheart. You shouldn't have to sit in this lobby with all these men staring at your pretty legs. I have a room here in the hotel. You can call Daddy from there and he'll know you're safe. And I have Coke and Pepsi in my minibar."

Alicia looked indecisive. But then she asked, "Do you really think my legs are pretty?"

Got her, Justin thought.

Got him, Alicia thought.

But on the elevator ride up, Alicia was having her usual second thoughts when she picked up strangers for filthy anal and oral sex.

Did Justin really think Alicia was an 11- or 12-year-old girl on her way to a birthday party? If so, he was a naïve loser. Not to mention a perv. Though she didn't exactly dislike pervs.

Did Justin really think Alicia was a genetic girl? If so, he could get nasty, even violent when he saw Alicia's pretty popsy. He couldn't have seen Alicia's big erection under all those petticoats. But what if he didn't like her after he saw her penis?

Not bloody likely.

The longest elapsed time between when a man discovered Alicia's stiffie and had it in his mouth had been four minutes and 22 seconds.

Justin had no such thoughts on the elevator, other than – pussy! Yeah! Pussy!

Men are simple creatures, after all.

As they entered the room, the dance continued.

"There's the phone if you want to call your Daddy, Sweetheart," Justin said. "Would you like a Coke or a Pepsi?"

Looking all shy about being in a man's room, Alicia said, "Pepsi, please, sir. I'm sorry, but I can't remember Daddy's number. I guess I'm just too upset."

Upset, Justin thought. Time to be a hero.

"Would a hug help calm you down, Honey?"

Alicia appeared to weigh the offer, then said, "I guess so."

Good enough.

Justin moved carefully toward Alicia and took her into his arms.

Nice.

Alicia loved men.

Men loved Alicia.

Alicia took a chance.

She rubbed her stiff, petticoated cock against Justin's trousered cock.

Justin's eyes opened widely!

Oh my!

Was that...?

Yes it was.

Bonus time.

Justin made his fourth move.

"What's that hard thing doing in a pretty girl's panties? Is it standing up for me?"

Alicia snickered at that. Then said, "I guess so."

Her last effort at being hard to get.

Justin kissed Alicia. With tongue. As he ran his hand under her petticoats to feel her popsy.

Oooh!

Justin didn't expect such a big one. Actually, he didn't expect any such thing at all.

But there it was.

And Alicia was responding to his touches with gasps and squeals.

Time to see exactly what he was dealing with.

Justin sat on the side of the bed, drew the standing Alicia to him and eased Alicia's petticoats down and had her step out of them.

Oh!

She was wearing white cotton panties! With little pink bows at the hips.

Justin loved the white cotton panties. It made for an even more perverted fantasy. And who doesn't like that?

The little panties were severely tented. Was Alicia bigger than Justin?

No matter.

Alicia didn't resist when Justin lowered her panties. She stepped out of them and awaited her fate.

Justin took Alicia's red, skinned glans into his mouth and gave it a delicious suck.

Two minutes and 42 seconds from discovery to fellatio.

A new record for Alicia.

And a great kickoff to her Tuesday.

Or anyone's Tuesday.

Had it been a Tuesday when Alicia had first wandered into her destiny?

Yes it had.

Six years earlier, when Alicia was 12, she was a boy named Ralph in Salem, Oregon.

Left alone at home for the first time "on his honor" by Mom and Daddy, Ralph decided to tarnish his honor in every way possible without being caught.

He made himself a nice "screwdriver" from Mommy's gin and orange juice, then began to look through Daddy's things for porn.

Nothing in Daddy's closet.

Could he be hiding porn in the traditional place – between the mattress and box spring?

Yes. There they were!

Six full color, large format magazines filled with pictures or superannuated, bleach blondes with big, bare, unnatural boobs and bored expressions.

Try as he might, Ralph couldn't even pop a boner from all that. He dug his hand into the stash a little deeper and found the pearl.

Something called "Panty Boy" magazine!

Wow!

It was filled with beautiful boys dressing as girls. With make-up and stockings and stuff. And doing sex things with men. Big, hunky men!

Three takeaways from Ralph's perusal of "Panty Boy." 1) Daddy must be gay if he pulls his penis looking at that stuff. 2) Ralph must be gay because he was almost overcome with wild surmise as he watched the boys' bumholes being savagely ravaged by huge cocks – and the boys were enjoying it. 3) The big bonus – Ralph shot his spunk before he got to page 5. Again at page 22. And page 36. Oh my!

Was Panty Boy telling Ralph something?

Ralph stuffed everything back except for the Panty Boy, which he concealed in his room and "visited" often over the next three weeks. Until Daddy caught him "reading" and wanking.

Mom and Daddy were good about it all. The enlightened parents offered to enroll Ralph in the local Miniskirt Club when he reached 18. But Ralph had seen his destiny and he would pursue it immediately.

With or without parental approval.

They relented. And arranged for Ralph to join the local Rogue Miniskirt Club, which accepted one when one was 14. Except for Ralph, who was just too fucking beautiful. And they accepted him at 12.

Ralph became Alicia.

Alicia began to dress as a girl full time when she was 13. And led a very "active" life with local boys and men.

The local Rogue Miniskirt Club leader recognized what an asset he had in Alicia and, as she turned 18, hooked Alicia up with both Nick Nickerson, publisher of Panty Boy, and the regional recruiter for AGW.

Alicia chose AGW because a) they offered a better benefits package and b) she wasn't sure she wanted her fuck pictures all over the Internet all her life.

Alicia had blended well with the AGW membership. Very well.

And she LOVED her job.

She also loved taking risks on her day off.

Thank goodness that Justin was proving to be safe and loving.

And a way better cocksucker than Alicia could have hoped for.

As Justin was licking her "arrow point" so deliciously, Alicia managed to wiggle her white cotton panties down to her ankles, where her petticoats had already dropped.

She was grunting and squeaking with real lust as the unskilled-but-enthusiastic fellator licked and sucked her pretty knob.

She wanted to warn him about her imminent cumstorm, but could only manage a squeal as she pumped a delightful dollop of sissy cream into the Alicia-hungry man's throat.

Being a gentleman, protective of Alicia's clothing, Justin swallowed it all.

An awfully good performance for a first-timer.

If we can believe Justin's version of events.

Anyway, swallowing Alicia's cum load made Justin randier than ever. He stood, pulled Alicia's dress up and over her head (she was wearing a little girl's strappy t-shirt!!!) and laid the bare-except-for-frilly-socks-and-Mary-Janes beauty on her back on the bed.

The angel's limp sissy stick was drooling sperm. Her nipples were still erect from sexual heat!

Justin had already tasted her cock. He went for her nipples.

Right one first. Licking. Sucking.

Engendering wilder screams from Alicia than when her cock was being sucked.

The lovers at AGW, as a rule, weren't into nipple adoration. Alicia loved nipple adoration.

Big points for Justin.

Before migrating to Alicia's left nipple, Justin stood and ripped off his clothes.

Yum! Alicia thought.

Justin was dishy.

With a nice cock. Smaller than hers, but she was used to that.

Back to the welcome task at mouth, Justin dove for Alicia's left nipple. Sucking and licking most artfully.

Meanwhile, he introduced two fingers to Alicia's bumhole. Which Justin reasoned would be where Justin would be having the most fun that lovely Tuesday.

Justin seemed to have a particular knowledge and skill in prostate location, manipulation and aggravation.

Again, this may not have been Justin's first male-pantyboy or male-male encounter. My notes are unclear on that.

But he was as good at prostate massage as anyone Alicia had met.

And she had met a bunch.

The inner-bum massage was enhanced by Alicia's full irrigation in her preparation for possible (probable) fucking.

The young beauty spunked hard.

Which was all the invitation Justin needed to raise her knees, and plunge his rammer into Alicia's inner regions.

It was a glorious fuck.

Followed by seven hours of intense pleasure. Until Justin escorted Alicia to a cab so she could return to her very hush-hush clinical trial that went on six days a week for two years.

But she took Justin's number. And would call him one of those Tuesdays.

Chapter Five – Vanessa

Vanessa was an unlikely 15 (of 10 on the "guy's rating scale,"

When she was a 17-years-and-9-months-old high-schooler, she was an unlikely 3.

Partly because she was still a boy. And not a very good looking one.

Robbie Putzmeyer was a nerd.

In appearance.

Not in the science/technology/engineering/mathematics sense. In fact, he was far from a genius.

But people assumed he was smart because he wore thick, black rimmed glasses, matched plaids with stripes and had rampaging acne.

Ugly and dim-witted is no way to go through life.

And that would have been Robbie's fate.

Had it not been for the intervention of Robbie's very own Henry Higgins – Brandon.

Brandon was the best recruiter AGW had ever had.

He could spot a diamond in a broken-glass pile.

Somehow, in San Antonio, Brandon spotted Robbie.

And approached Robbie's single mother. Who was thinking that when Robbie graduated high school, if he did so, he would be bagging groceries and living in her basement.

Brandon painted a different picture.

Hundreds of thousands of dollars for Mom. Lots more for Robbie.

And all Robbie had to do would be to "train" to be a pantyboy, then let lots of men fuck his ass and mouth for two years.

"Where do I sign," Mom asked sagely.

Brandon gave Robbie's Mom a $10,000 testing fee – more to follow if Robbie passed his training.

Though Brandon was sure that Robbie would do so.

Brandon was never wrong about such things.

Who wouldn't want to evolve from ugly duckling with no prospects to a beautiful swan with a fuck-filled, wealthy future?

No one Brandon had met.

Mom called Robbie to meet Brandon.

My goodness, Brandon thought. He could be my greatest creation.

Though the only thing the usual observer would see was a skinny, pimply, shy, short, dim-witted boy, Brandon saw a potential 12.

Brandon introduced himself to Robbie and explained what his mother had just committed him to.

"Robbie, I see you as someone other than you are right now. Someone far better. Someone whom people will adore."

Robbie thought, what a load of crap. This guy's a dork. And he uses that "whom" word.

But he listened. Mostly.

"Robbie, you're going to undergo anywhere from two to three months of training. If you pass, and I'm pretty sure you will, you'll be enrolled in a program that, not only will you love. It will set you and your mother up for life financially. And that's at a minimum."

Brandon had Robbie's attention. And curiosity.

"What is it?" the lad asked.

"Good question," Brandon said, trying not to sound patronizing. "I will clear your acne, give you better posture, rid you of your glasses and make you more beautiful than you can imagine. Then I will teach you ways that you can use that beauty to ensure your future, as well as a sex-filled present beyond anything you could imagine."

Well.

That sounded good to Robbie.

Though he didn't really consider all the possible ways that would all happen.

He thought maybe the guy had a way of making Robbie a super-stud.

Which would be great because Robbie's score thus far with girls was a big zero.

Sure, He would try it. His smile was his acquiescence.

Robbie's smile, the first Brandon had seen, reassured Brandon that Robbie would be at LEAST a 12.

"OK, then," Brandon said. "Let's go to our training facility."

"Now?"

"Now."

"Don't I have to pack?"

"We have everything you need. Kiss your Mom goodbye. You'll see her in four or five months."

Robbie had never had an adventure. He wanted one.

He got one.

AGW's training facility was in Indianapolis. A nondescript building in a nondescript town.

Brandon personally escorted Robbie to the plane and they arrived at the facility at 11 p.m.

No one was around, but Brandon checked himself and Robbie into a lovely hotel-like suite within the facility.

Brandon gave Robbie the bedroom and took the pullout couch.

Robbie was exhausted. And very curious.

He fell asleep immediately until Brandon awakened him for an in-room breakfast for two at 8.

Robbie had slept in his underwear and wore that to breakfast.

The two ate, mostly in silence. When they were finished, Brandon suggested that Robbie take a shower. He did so.

When he had dried himself off, Robbie found that his clothes had disappeared. The only garment in the room was a pink bathrobe and pink, fluffy slippers.

Now, you or I would have said, "Pink?" and perhaps balked at wearing the gear.

Robbie just put them on and went looking for Brandon. Who was in the suite's other room with a nice looking, 40-something man.

"Robbie, this is Dr. Medici. He's going to get you into contacts and help you with that acne. Then he'll give you a physical,"

"OK," Robbie replied docilely. And followed the doctor down the hall.

Three hours later, Robbie returned to the suite that he and Brandon shared.

Brandon knew that Dr. Medici had not engaged sexually with Robbie. That was not in the plan. And veering from the plan would have gotten Dr. Medici fired and cut off from the world's finest pussy.

Already, Brandon could see what had drawn his attention to Robbie.

Without glasses and with abated acne, Robbie was already approaching stunner.

The boy's 1.25-inch--long eyelashes were stunning in themselves. But when Brandon saw Robbie's left nipple through an opening in Robbie's robe, the man almost creamed his pants.

Robbie's areolas were two inches in diameter!

Could Brandon pick `em or what?

"How did it go today, Robbie?" Brandon asked.

"It was cool. Everyone was super nice. Will I get some clothes now?"

"Later. How about some lunch?"

They ordered and ate in the room.

After lunch, Dr. Medici reappeared and took Robbie to get his yellowish teeth whitened.

Robbie reported to Brandon that he hadn't liked that very much, but everyone was super nice.

They had dinner in the room, then settled down to watch some football on TV.

At bedtime, Robbie said, "I don't want to complain, but I haven't had any clothes all day. Should I wear this robe to bed?"

Brandon said, "Certainly not. There's a nightshirt laid out for you on the bed. Let me help you with it."

As was his apparent habit, Robbie followed Brandon docilely. Though "nightshirt" was a new concept for him.

Oh my!

That was a nightshirt? And he was supposed to wear it?

It was filmy. With lace at the collar and at the knee-length hem.

"It's a girl's nightie, Brandon" Robbie said.

But he didn't say he wouldn't wear it.

In fact, he shucked the robe and slid the nightshirt over his head very quickly.

Then he hustled over to the bedroom's three-way mirror to admire himself.

And to like what he saw.

The lad looked for a long time.

Brandon didn't interrupt. Or mention Robbie's obvious erection.

Eventually, Robbie disengaged from the mirror and walked to his bed. He got under the covers said, "Good night, Brandon." And turned off the light.

Had Robbie deduced that Brandon and his accomplices were about to turn Robbie into a cock-hungry pantyboy? Was Robbie smarter than Brandon thought?

Or was Robbie so self-unaware that he just liked his new look, even if he had to wear that weird nightshirt?

Questions to worry about the next day.

Brandon lay on the pullout couch and fantasized.

Should he slide into bed with Robbie? Spoon up to him? Kiss his neck while rubbing his manly cock into Robbie's ass crack? Reach around and wank Robbie through a hard spunk.?

Be the FIRST to do filthy, homosexual sodomistic acts with someone who Brandon KNEW would be a prize beauty for his employer?

[Sigh]

If only.

The plan was to slowly get Robbie to transform into a pantyboy princess. Then it would be Brandon's job to convert Robbie into a cockhound named Vanessa.

A prospect Brandon relished.

Over the next days of that first week, the routine was the same. Robbie, dressed in a pink tee and pink short-shorts, would take lessons in posture and deportment. Get his anti-acne treatments (which were working well), and learn odd things like "fashion" and walking in shoes with higher heels. Robbie didn't buy it when they told him his makeup lessons were therapeutic for his acne. But he paid attention and learned,

Did Robbie understand the big picture of what was happening to him?

What we do know is that Brandon wanted to fuck Robbie very badly, even though Robbie was still mostly boy. Even without makeup, girlish clothes, or feminine mannerisms, Robbie was extraordinarily attractive to heterosexual Brandon.

Poor Brandon would have exploded if he hadn't been able, while Robbie was at training, to fuck some of the pantyboys who staffed the other parts of the training center

Robbie slept alone in their suite. Wearing a nightshirt. Ate breakfast and dinner every day with Brandon. And watched TV with Brandon every night.

They became very familiar.

Friendly even.

Talking mostly about Robbie's dismal youth

Brandon was baffled at Robbie's incurious attitude. He never asked Brandon why he was in training or what would happen when training was over.

Things changed the second week of training.

As usual, Robbie came back to the suite after his training day. But he was acting a bit differently.

Brandon gave Robbie a good look and saw that the boy was wearing lipstick! And he was blushing ferociously.

Brandon almost came in his pants.

The boy was already an 11! Without all his eventual weapons.

Brandon was about to ask Robbie about the lipstick, when Robbie began to sob.

Brandon took Robbie into his strong, manly arms to comfort him – the closest physical contact they had had.

Which made Brandon cum in his pants.

Ooops.

"It's all right, Honey," Brandon said when his orgasm had nearly subsided. [Thank goodness that Robbie didn't notice.]

Robbie sobbed louder. And said, "I think they want to make me a girl!"

Well.

It took Robbie a bit longer than 95% of the population to figure that out. But there they were.

Brandon held Robbie more tightly and asked, "How do you feel about that, Sweetie?"

Robbie stopped crying. And, with great effort, thought.

"I don't know. It would be all right. I guess."

Bingo!

Carefully, Brandon proceeded. "I think you would be an amazingly beautiful girl. And you would be adored by everyone who met you."

Wow.

Robbie stepped back. Looked askance at Brandon. Decided he wasn't being bullshitted. And went to look in the bedroom mirror. For nearly an hour.

Then he came back to an anxious Brandon and said, "Maybe you're right. Can we have dinner now?"

Whew.

They ate and conversed in their usual way.

And watched TV as usual.

But, for the first time, Robbie sat on the loveseat with Brandon instead of in a separate chair.

Brandon, who had had the sense to change his pants while Robbie was admiring himself, wondered if he should kiss Robbie, strip him and give him a good, stiff fucking. Which had been Brandon's strongest fantasy for weeks.

But Brandon was a professional. And knew that slow would win that race.

When Robbie got up to get dressed for bed, he came back, not in his usual night shirt, but a much girlier pink nightie that Brandon didn't even know Robbie had.

Robbie said, "Thanks for the compliments and advice." And, for the first time, he leaned over and kissed Brandon on the cheek.

As Robbie wiggled off to bed, Brandon was unsuccessful at warding off a second spunking of his pants.

Brandon liked his prospects in coming days.

And he was right about that.

After training the next day, Robbie was wearing full makeup. A very modest schoolgirl uniform, knee socks and single-strap Mary Jane shoes.

Good golly!

Robbie posed a little for Brandon and asked, "What do you think?"

Brandon flooded Robbie with superlatives.

Which made Robbie blush. And, unless Brandon's vision had deteriorated, made Robbie stiff in his panties for the first time since they had been together.

Robbie limited his mirror time to a half hour that night.

At dinner, Robbie said that the teacher had told Robbie that he would be wearing lots of sexy girl's clothes. Clothes that excited men.

"I told her that I wasn't sure I wanted to excite men. Except maybe you."

"Fuck her now!" Bad Brandon screamed from Brandon's left shoulder. While on his right shoulder, Good Brandon said, calmly, "Wait at least two more days."

Brandon wanted to strangle Good Brandon, but he followed the advice. Mostly.

Robbie sat on the loveseat and, with his eyes, beckoned for Brandon to join him.

Brandon did so with alacrity.

He took Robbie into his arms and kissed the pretty boy. Robbie's first kiss. Brandon's 1,237, 852nd. But his best.

Robbie was an amazingly sweet kisser. And his tongue was delicious.

As we know, it's not really kissing until the cocks come out.

They came out.

But not right away.

Brandon steered Robbie to the suite's king-sized bed and laid him on his back at the foot of the bed. Feet on the floor.

Reverently, he lifted Robbie's skirts to reveal his pink, cotton panties. And the stiff pole that was tenting it.

Brandon had never seen Robbie's cock. He ached to do so.

Slowly, as Robbie panted with lust, Brandon slid Robbie's panties up and over his cock and revealed the young beauty's young beauty.

Brandon gasped.

The beautiful object stood five inches tall.

It was circumcised! Which Brandon considered desecration of a masterpiece.

Yet, the lack of foreskin seemed to be appropriate for Robbie's penis.

Its exposed knob was dark pink and leaking fiercely as Brandon drank in its beauty.

The AGW talent scout training guide says that one should never go oral the first time a "candidate" shows you her penis.

Fuck the training guide.

Brandon licked all of the pre-cum off Robbie's glans in one delicious swirl. Delighting in Robbie's cry of lust. Then he applied all of his tonguish skill to Robbie's penile pleasure.

Brandon kissed, licked, sucked, nuzzled and masturbated Robbie's cock until the boy screamed out Brandon's name and shot his sissy cream in seven glorious ropes!

Brandon couldn't lick it all up, since Robbie was still wearing his schoolgirl outfit. So he just licked Robbie's exposed penis and testicles clean. Until poor Robbie was in quite a dither again.

Seized by the urge to kiss Robbie again, Brandon temporarily abandoned his oral interests and moved to where he could look into Robbie's beautiful eyes before he kissed him.

Robbie's eyes were moist with love.

He parted his pretty, liptsicked lips and asked, as innocently as you please, "What was that?"

Oh!

Was that Robbie's first orgasm?

It was.

Was Brandon the luckiest man on earth?

Probably.

"That was an orgasm, Sweetie. It's the greatest feeling on earth. Did you like that?"

Robbie blinked. And nodded.

"Can we do it again?"

Brandon's answer was to tonguekiss Robbie with all of passion and experience. While stroking the sissyboy's reborn cock.

Robbie had no idea how to stroke a cock.

He didn't need to.

Just touching Brandon's six-incher with his soft, warm hand was enough to make the man shoot his baby bullets.

Robbie watched with awe as Brandon shot his manly cream.

The boy's ignorance was great. His experience was non-existent.

That would change soon enough.

Brandon set out to imprint himself on Robbie's psyche so that he would always be "available" for Brandon. No matter how many Mr. Stiffmans would fuck him.

He gave the young beauty a heavenly hand job and thrilled along with Robbie as the boy paid his second tribute to Eros.

Four hours later, Robbie was completely arid as he shuddered through his fifth handjob. He had given Brandon four trips to paradise.

The two lovers slept together that night, though there was no oral or fucking.

Before they climbed into bed for sleep, Robbie asked Brandon to call him Vanessa from then on.

The delighted Brandon improvised a nice, little, within-the-bounds sleep sendoff for them.

Both were lusciously naked. Both had pools of sperm surrounding their navels.

Brandon mixed their sperm and rubbed it between Vanessa's thighs and on her prickhead.

He then spooned up behind her, slid his cock into the channel formed by her cum-lubed thighs and slid his cock back and forth as he gave her a nice reach-around.

After that ballbuster, mutual cum, they fell asleep, as Brandon reviewed his future approach to Vanessa's full recruitment.

Brandon's seduction plan for the next two days was to save big-time oral for the next night and fucking for the night after. As Good Brandon had counselled.

But Good Brandon didn't know how Vanessa would look when she came to the suite after the next day's training.

The Love Angel wiggled in in full makeup. Legs encased in black, seamed, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings. Garter belt. Minidress. Big heels.

He sat in the room's comfiest chair and beckoned Vanessa to join him.

Vanessa's giggled and wiggled her way over to Brandon's lap.

Oh!

She was perfection!

She even smelled great. White Shoulders, was it?

Was the green light really on for everything with Vanessa that night? Good Brandon seemed to be taking the night off.

He put his right hand on Vanessa's left thigh. Rubbing her stocking. Watching her twitch a little in her excitement.

Apparently, Vanessa knew her time had come.

The man slid his hand above Vanessa's stocking top. Feeling the glory that was Vanessa's bare thigh.

They kissed tonguely as Brandon slid his rude hand onto Vanessa's pantied penis.

Vanessa gasped.

He rubbed her knob against her pink, silken knickers. Kissing her deeply and sucking her tongue.

Vanessa cried out and, for the first time of many that night, she poured out her sweet, girlish juices.

It was very messy.

Until Brandon asked her to stand and hold her skirts up.

Ever the gentleman, Brandon slid Vanessa's sweet panties down to mid-thigh, then licked off all the sperm and semen from Vanessa's pretty penis and pink purse.

Oh dear!

That made Vanessa hard again. Very hard.

Allowing Brandon to properly and officially deliver a lesson on oral sex.

The good kind.

With lots of saliva.

And fingers wandering into Vanessa's bumhole.

Unaccustomed as Vanessa was to her skyscraper heels, Vanessa fell forward as she shot her sperm down Brandon's eager throat.

Brandon caught her. And eased her to her knees. Where she ventured eagerly into her first blowjob delivery.

She delivered it well.

Pressing his luck and his advantage, Brandon waited until Vanessa had licked him dry, then stood, unzipped Vanessa's minidress and helped her divest herself.

Leaving the femboy prodigy in only her black bra, stockings, garters and heels.

The sight of which should carry a warning label for the faint of heart.

Brandon corralled Vanessa into the bedroom, stripping himself in the process.

And there they were.

Two magnificent specimens. A full bottle of Spermbutt Anal Lubricant. And 14 hours until Vanessa's next appointment.

Brandon ate her out, of course.

An act of fierce cannibalism that startled Vanessa, then had her sobbing and cumming twice.

Believing in suspenders and a belt, Brandon also used two fingers and lots of Spermbutt Anal Lubricant to open the path to glory.

Vanessa knew what Brandon wanted.

She knew that she seemed to be selected by nature to be a person to whom men would want to do that.

She was OK with that. Though a little scared.

Brandon's cock was so huge. And her heinie was so tiny.

Brandon eased the head into her pootie.

Mmmm.

Very nice.

Two more inches.

Oh. A little pinch there.

Two more.

Ouch.

Not awful. And, hey. What was Brandon's cock rubbing against up there that was making Vanessa's eyes cross?

It was amazing!

All in!!

And fucking.

And rubbing against Vanessa's newly discovered prostate.

Vanessa wasn't even hard. But she shuddered and came! Drooling a few watery drops. As the earth opened and swallowed her old persona.

She loved being fucked. She loved Brandon. She loved being a girl.

Chapter Six - The 62nd Floor

Geoffrey Lovebum was one of three concierges at Amalgamated Global Widgets' Executive Club, which occupied the top three floors of the 64-floor AGW Tower.

The head concierge of the three -- Geoffrey, Arthur and Nigel. But still merely a concierge.

Merely.

On Floors 63 and 64, he was Geoffrey. Good old Geoffrey. The concierge who could provide the means for AGW's 21 top executives to satisfy every one of their seemingly endless, totally disgusting needs.

Not that Geoffrey disapproved.

He treasured his job. Would have been despondent without it.

But on those two floors, he was merely Geoffrey. Good old Geoffrey.

On the 62nd Floor, he was Mr. Lovebum. Master of pantyboys. Adored, admired and obeyed by the 30-plus magnificent pantyboys who resided on that floor, and the six men who attended to the pantyboys ' logistical needs.

Geoffrey worked a challenging schedule. He and the other two concierges divided the 24/7 duties evenly -- 56 hours per week and no holidays or vacations. Who would want such a thing anyway? A holiday from the Empire of Pantyboys? Hah!

The benefits were enormous!

Geoffrey worked the night shift -- 6 p.m. to 6 a.m. on Sunday, Monday, Wednesday and Thursday and 6 p.m. to 4 a.m. on Friday. Long hours but a short commute. One or two floors on the elevator. A beautiful, spacious apartment. And pantyboys. Lots of pantyboys. Gorgeous, star-quality pantyboys.

All you could eat.

In the 12 years that Geoffrey had worked at the Club, the most pantyboys the Club members and Board of Directors had ever "occupied" at any one time was 19. And there were never fewer than 30 pretty pantyboys in residence.

Some Club members were always on the road with clients or even [ick] "home" with their families, pretending to be heterosexual members of "mainstream" society.

The smart members, in Geoffrey's view, were the ones who abandoned such silly notions and moved into their Club apartments permanently.

Still, the fewer pantyboys the members required, the more selection for the three concierges and six boykeepers.

And there were no bad choices.

Each pantyboy had been carefully chosen for her youth, beauty and hunger for cock.

Each pantyboy was skilled in the ways of pleasing men and eager to succeed at that critical mission.

The morning after Geoffrey introduced Mr. Harden to the Club (and to young Gina), Geoffrey finished his shift at 4 a.m. Since he had Saturdays off, his next shift wouldn't begin for 38 hours.

He planned to make good use of the time.

Geoffrey stepped off the elevator and was greeted by Bruno, one of the boykeepers who provided care and security for the "corporate harem."

"Good morning, Mr. Lovebum," Bruno said to Geoffrey. "All is well, sir. Here's a list of unoccupied pantyboys. May I arrange things for you, sir?"

Geoffrey loved the respect he got in his kingdom.

And he loved the pantyboys even more.

"Thank you, Bruno," Geoffrey said. "I see a new name here, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir. Young Carlotta just arrived from South America yesterday. According to the AGW `talent scouts,' she's untouched by a man, sir, though plenty of pantyboys have enjoyed her. Her English is scant."

As everyone knows, the best way to learn a language is to sleep with the locals. "I believe I'll give Carlotta some lessons this morning. Where is she now?"

Bruno consulted his security monitor. "Carlotta and Tuyet from Hanoi have been sucking each other's penises and kissing all night, sir. They're asleep now. Shall I have Carlotta cleaned up and brought round, Mr. Lovebum?"

"Yes, thank you, Bruno. In an hour, please. Would you have the kitchen send me up two poached eggs on English Muffin and coffee too, please? In 40 minutes?"

Bruno agreed respectfully and Geoffrey was confident that all would be done precisely on schedule.

As Geoffrey was about to leave, Bruno said, "Oh, and one more thing, sir. Young Carlotta is barely 18 years old, but a `big one,' sir. Nearly seven and a half inches already."

Wow! That was interesting. "Better make that three poached eggs, Bruno," Geoffrey said.

"Very good, sir."

Seven and a half inches?!?!?!

Wow.

There was a time when Geoffrey would have invited Tuyet to the "party" as well as Carlotta. But one must be moderate as one grows older.

Seven and a half inches?!?!?!

Many of the sissyboys housed on the 62nd Floor were quite "tiny" between their legs. Which appealed to most of the men on the upper floors more than a big-cocked sissyboy.

Geoffrey was much more open-minded about such things.

He loved all the pantyboys. As often as he could.

Geoffrey took his shower, shaved and brushed his teeth. He looked at his naked body in the mirror and liked what he saw -- a handsome, fit, 50-year-old man. All his hair. Only five-foot-six, but a seven-inch cock that looked even bigger on a shorter man.

He put on his dressing robe and combed his hair. Precisely on time, his breakfast arrived. Geoffrey read the newspaper, drank his coffee and ate his eggs.

At the precise time, there was a gentle knock on his door.

Geoffrey opened it and saw Carlotta.

A somewhat nervous, but extremely beautiful Carlotta.

Wearing only a skimpy pair of AGW-Executive-Club "boypanties." Pale blue and so brief they showed two inches of the angel's "bottom cleavage." So clingy that they left little to the imagination about the size and shape of the nancyboy's cock.

The pantyboy was trembling. Could it be true that Carlotta had never been fucked? Never even been in carnal communion with a man? According to her dossier, Carlotta REALLY liked other pantyboys.

But no men.

Yet.

Geoffrey gestured for Carlotta to enter the apartment. The pantyboy had clearly never been in such an upscale place before. She wandered here and there. Staring.

Geoffrey offered Carlotta a glass of orange juice, which the pantyboy accepted gratefully.

That was enough of the mundane, Geoffrey thought. If he could have spoken to the femboy, he would have conversed for a while. But since that wasn't possible yet, Geoffrey simply let his robe slide to the floor. Revealing his naked body to a wide-eyed Carlotta.

Geoffrey looked the pantyboy in the eye and saw lust -- the universal language.

He walked over to the pantyboy and carefully slid Carlotta's panties up and over that large, stiff cock and down to a puddle on the floor.

"Tu es muy linda, Carlotta," Geoffrey said. [You are very pretty.]

Carlotta smiled at Geoffrey's use of her language and said, "Y usted, tambien, senor." [You too, sir]

Geoffrey took a moment to evaluate his companion. Startlingly dark eyes. Soft, nearly hairless, dusky skin. A face that generalissimos would initiate juntas over.

And that cock! Stiff and proud! Man-sized. A long, thick foreskin that revealed only the drooling peehole. Attendant testicles that hung low and heavy.

Despite his vast experience loving and fucking the world's most beautiful pantyboys, Geoffrey literally drooled.

He motioned for Carlotta to turn around, revealing yet another wonder of the world -- Carlotta's ass. The sissy's bottom was heart-shaped, disproportionately plump for the rest of her body and absolutely effing gorgeous.

Well done, AGW talent scouts, Geoffrey said to himself.

Then the excited man sat in his favorite chair and beckoned Carlotta to join him. The pantyboy complied, and with just the right amount of shyness, the naked pantyboy sat in the naked Geoffrey's lap.

Geoffrey knew that a kiss is always a nice way to introduce one's self, so he cuddled Carlotta to his hairy chest, tilted the young beauty's mouth up and kissed her sweetly.

The pantyboy was VERY responsive to the kiss. She whimpered sweetly and then, almost imperceptively, brushed her soft hand across Geoffrey's cockhead.

Nicely done!

Geoffrey began to caress the young catamite's sensitive balls as they kissed, which drew some excellent gasps and pants from the young beauty.

Carlotta moaned, "Oh, senor," when Geoffrey gently stroked his way from the girlish testicles to her foreskin. Geoffrey sucked Carlotta's tongue as he pulled back Carlotta's foreskin and rubbed the sensitive, pink head with his skilled thumb.

Carlotta squirmed and moaned and then, much to Geoffrey's delight, Carlotta spurted. Quite copiously. Accompanied by the sissiest squealing Geoffrey had heard in some time.

This one was going right to Mr. Stiffman on Saturday night, Geoffrey noted mentally. She's as hot as any little cupcake they had had in residence in quite a while.

Geoffrey kept kissing the pantyboy throughout her excellent orgasm, then he noted with great pleasure that the pantyboy moved to repay the sweet treat Geoffrey had just given him.

Carlotta sank to her pretty knees and began to worship Geoffrey's pubic region with her tongue. First a nice, wet tongue bath of Geoffrey's large, hairy balls. Then an exquisite, total-cock-sucking that concluded with Geoffrey spunking his thick, all-night-without-"relief" load down the sissy's warm throat.

Oh my!

It was a good thing Geoffrey wasn't working on Saturday night. He would need his rest after Tropical Storm Carlotta.

Man and pantyboy communicated perfectly through the language of love. They adjourned to Geoffrey's bedroom and lay on the king-sized bed. Allowing Geoffrey his first real opportunity to meet and greet Carlotta's cock.

Despite having spunked less than a half hour earlier, Carlotta's "toro" was on the rampage. Stiff and throbbing.

Geoffrey kissed Carlotta's sweet mouth for a while, carefully stroking the sissyboy's cock, but trying to avoid another "handgasm." The man wanted Carlotta;s next creamy load in his belly.

Geoffrey released Carlotta's cock and slowly kissed his way down her neck to her chest, then nipples (ooh! Carlotta liked that!) and her hairless tummy.

Taking it slowly. Working the already randy pantyboy into a proper lather.

Arriving at his destination, Geoffrey examined Carlotta's pubic region very carefully. The pantyboy was big all right. And her skinned cockhead was pink and pretty.

When Geoffrey began to place butterfly kisses on Carlotta's exposed peelips, the pantyboy moaned in appreciative lust.

Realizing that the pantyboy was ready to explode, Geoffrey applied his entire mouth to the consumption of Carlotta's cock, deep throating the pantyboy far better than Linda Lovelace ever envisioned.

Carlotta sat up in bed, screamed and gave Geoffrey the "pantyboylover's big reward."

So much of it that even the skilled, experienced Geoffrey gagged on the creamy goodness.

This pantyboy should come with a warning label, Geoffrey mused. Then he set about licking up and swallowing every drop of Carlotta's boy's cream.

Well, after Carlotta's first deep-throating with, it was claimed, Carlotta's first man, the pantyboy was in love with Geoffrey.

And, of course, Geoffrey was in love with Carlotta.

You can have love without fucking, Geoffrey had often told his staff, but you can't have fucking without love. Geoffrey loved the pantyboys of the 62nd Floor. And they loved him.

And Carlotta not only loved "Mr. Bossman," she surrendered to him. Anything the man wanted, Carlotta would give willingly. And eagerly.

It was at that moment that Carlotta knew she would love being in America. At the AGW Tower. With Tuyet. And Geoffrey. And that handsome Bruno man at the security desk. And the other nice men the AGW man promised Carlotta and her mother when he came to their house only two weeks earlier.

Carlotta didn't hear everything that the man and her mother talked about. But he did know that his mother was getting a new, much bigger and better apartment in an upscale part of their city. And that she would own the apartment, for which taxes had been paid for 30 years. And that she would be getting something called a "stipend" for 30 years. More, much more if any or all of Carlotta's four deliciously pretty, younger brothers joined Carlotta at AGW when they turned 18.

The man asked Carlotta a lot of questions. Naughty questions about naughty things. He didn't want to, but Mama had insisted that Carlotta tell the man the truth. About how Carlotta and the other pantyboys in his school played with each other's cocks. And sucked them. And how [blush] Carlotta and her brothers did naughty things together.

Carlotta cried when she talked about sucking pantyboys ' cocks and [blush] how much she enjoyed it. She was afraid she would get in trouble, but the man said that he was very proud of Carlotta for being honest. And her Mom agreed.

Carlotta didn't have a Daddy. Mama was a widow. But Carlotta had always dreamed of having a Daddy. Someone to love him and show him how a young boy should live his life.

Some of the men Carlotta had met over the years had tried to do the things his friends' daddies did for them. Taking off their clothes and kissing them all over. Making their cocks spurt boy's cream.

Carlotta loved spurting his boy's cream. But he wasn't about to let just any man help him spurt it.

So she was a little hesitant when the man from AGW asked Carlotta to take her clothes off. All of her clothes off.

She was trembling, but Mama said it was all right, so she stripped naked for the man. The first man Carlotta had ever been naked for.

Carlotta would never forget the man's reaction to seeing her naked. She thought the man might faint.

Carlotta's big cock was a surprise to the man. It was to Carlotta's friends too. But what the man really liked was Carlotta's plump bottom.

Mama left the room soon after Carlotta stripped naked. Being in the room with the man scared Carlotta. But it was all right.

The man said he needed to "examine" Carlotta. Needed to see whether Carlotta could make "leche de puero," (boy's milk) and all that. But mostly, Carlotta thought, the man just wanted to feel Carlotta up.

Which was fine with Carlotta. She loved being handled by a man. And that was obvious to the talent scout.

When Carlotta spurted within moments of the man skinning her cockhead a few times, then again, soon after, when she sat on the man's lap and submitted to his kisses and nipple tweaking, the contract was signed and sealed.

Carlotta had arrived in New York the previous afternoon and was given a beautiful room all to herself -- not with four brothers. Then fellow AGW sissyboy Tuyet showed up with a "welcome to the neighborhood" hello. Which turned into a very nice, all-night, kiss, suck, cum and cuddle session.

The next morning, she was summoned to meet "Mr. Bossman." And it appeared that she was about to receive what every young pretty pantyboy desperately wants and needs. A good, stiff fucking.

Carlotta's school friend Tomas would often put his fingers into Carlotta's bottomhole as he sucked Carlotta's big cock. And Carlotta had enjoyed it very much. But when the nice man who ran things put his fingers into Carlotta's "private place" and rubbed his "secret spot," Carlotta nearly fainted from the force of the cum she made for the man.

Geoffrey was delighted to see that he appeared to be the first to introduce Carlotta to the pleasures of the prostate. There would be a nice bonus for AGW Talent Scout Jaime Alvarez for recruiting this beautiful boy in nearly mint condition.

Geoffrey's fingers were doing the good work of anal lubrication and dilation as he pondered the best way to shatter this angel's virginity.

Carlotta appeared desperate to be fucked when Geoffrey declared the prep work completed. But how?

Geoffrey decided. He had the pantyboy stand next to the bed, then place his palms flat on the bed. Presenting the delicious target to Geoffrey, who stood behind Carlotta. Geoffrey was painfully rampant as he rubbed the sissyboy's anus with his peehole.

Geoffrey sighed heavily, said, "Te amo." [I love you.] and pushed his cockhead through the boy's tight defenses.

Carlotta squeaked, but endured. Then, like a trooper, she pushed her bottom back, seizing another two inches of cock for herself.

Wow! What a hot little tamale!

Geoffrey completed the insertion, then began to fuck the new love of his life with passion and purpose.

Thrusting. Pushing.

When the rhythm was established and all pain banished, Geoffrey pushed the pantyboy forward onto the bed.

Carlotta was impaled on Geoffrey's cock. Under the man's full weight. Dominated by the man. A helpless, little sissyboy being fucked. The sweet agony of pressure on her prostate.

It was all too much. The little "cum factory" spurted yet again. All over Geoffrey's sheets.

Geoffrey didn't mind. He was completely focused on his own orgasm. Which was imminent. Then present. Then debilitating.

How many more years could Geoffrey live that life? How many beautiful pantyboys would he "blemish" to satisfy his disgusting needs?

Geoffrey was hoping for infinite.

Chapter Seven – Hung in the Harem

Chinese businessman Hung Long was enjoying his first visit to the United States. Nice people. Interesting sights. Good food. He especially loved the pastrami on rye with that spicy mustard, though he wasn't sure he liked anchovies on his pizza. Beautiful women all over New York. And now his host, Amalgamated Global Widgets CEO Dan Stiffman had promised him a special treat. A special "thank you" for Mr. Hung's stupendously humongous order from AGW.

What could it be?

At 4 p.m. that Friday afternoon, four days before Mr. Hung was to return to China, Mr. Stiffman escorted Mr. Hung to an out-of-the-way elevator and took him up to the 63rd Floor of the AGW Tower.

Mr. Hung thought that perhaps he would be enjoying cocktails served by pretty waitresses, with long American legs and big, high heels. Probably a nice view too, from that high up.

What he got was way better.

Mr. Hung's English was quite good, so he understood what was being said when that concierge fellow Geoffrey greeted him and Mr. Stiffman so warmly. Then things really started to happen.

Geoffrey looked behind Stiffman and Hung and said, "Oh, there you are, Cindy and Darlene. Just in time."

Cindy and Darlene passed Stiffman and Hung and stood next to Geoffrey.

Looking at the CEO and his guest. And being looked at by them.

Really looked at.

Mr. Hung liked what he saw. Though he wasn't sure why. The Chinese businessman had a wife and a mistress. And believed himself attracted only to women. Until he saw Darlene and Cindy.

Two beautiful young people. Mr. Hung guessed that they were 18 or 19. Both were gorgeous. Mr. Hung "made" them as pantyboys. Still, would rate them an eleven or twelve on a ten-point scale. If he "liked" pantyboys.

Darlene and Cindy were easy to "like."

They were both wearing white, shortie robes made of pure silk. Open nearly to the waist. So short they barely covered the pantyboys' "pretty parts." Their feet were in pretty, pink, sandal, stiletto mules. Exposing their cute, pink toes. Wiggling and giggling as they posed for Stiffman and Hung.

Who were those pantyboys and why were they there?

Surely, Mr. Stiffman hadn't arranged for Mr. Hung to..."do things"...with young pantyboys!

Young, innocent pantyboys. With perfect, girlish make-up. And boyish hair.

Deliciously beautiful pantyboys. Especially that Darlene. With her bright, blue eyes and blonde curls

Though Cindy was also massively cute. With those dark, brown eyes and her brilliant smile.

But Mr. Hung had never "been with" a pantyboy. Even though the mere thought of it had stiffened his cock outrageously. He hoped against hope that no one noticed.

Stiffman noticed.

He said, "Ladies, Mr. Hung is a very important friend of Amalgamated Global Widgets. So we should all be nice to him. Will you be nice to him, my dears?"

Darlene and Cindy giggled again. "Oh, yes sir," Darlene said. "You can have whatever you want all weekend, Mr. Hung. Anything!"

Hung shuddered at that. Could they mean what he thought they meant?

Stiffman said, "Why don't you have a seat, Mr. Hung, and the girls will get us a drink. Single malt for you, right Mr. Hung?"

Hung nodded dumbly. And took a seat.

The pantyboys sissied off to get the drinks, showing the men a small peek of bottom cheek. Making Mr. Hung's penis even more painfully stiff. He wanted to ask his host what was going on with the pantyboys, but was afraid of saying the wrong thing. So he just smiled at Mr. Stiffman. Who smiled back.

Darlene and Cindy were back with the drinks in picoseconds. Cindy leaned over to give Mr. Stiffman his drink, giving Mr. Hung a full, though brief view of the paradise that was Cindy's pink hole.

All the air left Hung's lungs.

The gasp when he saw Darlene leaning over to give him his single-malt scotch probably saved his life. Darlene's robe opened in the front as he bent over and Hung could see the pantyboy's cock and balls.

The beauty of Darlene's treasures stunned Mr. Hung.

The pantyboy was an angel -- a concept little known in China, but Mr. Hung knew one when he saw one.

Even better, the pantyboy was stiff. And her peehole was drooling.

Was she stiff because she "liked" Mr. Hung?

The man certainly hoped so.

He liked Darlene already. A lot.

Still, Mr. Hung wondered if he had misinterpreted the whole scenario.

Until Cindy sat on Mr. Stiffman's lap and opened her robe for the CEO. Exposing the entirety of her beautiful body to the man's ardent kisses and skillful fondling.

All ambiguity having been removed, Mr. Hung set his drink down and locked eyes with Darlene.

Darlene smiled. And undid the belt of her robe. Then let the robe fall to the floor. Exposing the splendor of Darlene's naked form.

Mr. Hung smiled as the pantyboy sat on his lap. Beautiful, naked splendor. With the piercing blue eyes and blonde curls. Finger- and toenails painted a hot pink.

Hung drew the pantyboy's body to his own and greedily accepted Darlene's invitation for a kiss. Unable to resist, he gently cuddled the pantyboy's "dangling pearls" as they kissed tonguily.

Darlene squealed softly as the nice, handsome man "tickled her things."

Things got very hot very quickly. Darlene was already near a nice creamy cum when she prudently suggested, "We can go to our own room if you want, Mr. Hung. It'll be private there and I'll be all yours."

Truly an offer no sane man could refuse.

Hung looked over to Cindy and Stiffman. He was going to say something polite as he and Darlene left them but decided against it. Since Stiffman had Cindy bent over and his cock was buried deeply in the little darling's eager ass.

The naked Darlene led Mr. Hung by the hand down a hallway to suite 6, whose door was open in expectation of their arrival.

Man and pantyboy entered the suite and closed the door. They kissed their way to the bed, Mr. Hung relieving himself of his clothes along the way.

And there they were. Naked and rampant. And voraciously randy for each other.

At first, they kissed and ran hands all over each other. Then they rubbed bodies as they kissed.

Hung groaned and Darlene whimpered for a good "manhandling."

Something the pantyboy had gotten four or five nights a week since she began living on the 62nd Floor of the AGW Tower some five months earlier.

It was the best time of her life. And, she suspected, the best time of anyone's life.

She missed her Mom and her older brothers. Especially her older brothers, since they were the ones who helped Darlene see his "true calling" in life -- a world-class, sissyboy courtesan.

The nice men at AGW made sure that every quarter, Darlene got to spend a week at a nice New York hotel with her Mom and her brothers. She liked that. But she liked it more when she went back to what she now thought of as her real life. With the men and pantyboys of the 62nd, 63rd and 64th Floors.

It was a great honor to be selected to "entertain" AGW's important customers like Mr. Hung. Though it didn't surprise Darlene to be selected. She knew she was popular with men. All men. Even the men she saw at the hotel where she stayed with her family.

Darlene had a gift.

And Darlene was a gift to the world's men.

That night, Mr. Hung was enjoying that gift gratefully.

Darlene's sweet kisses had Mr. Hung very excited.

Mr. Hung was inexperienced in the delicious art of pantyboy loving. But he was a fast learner. And he had a big cock.

Darlene noticed. She was touching the hot, hard meat with her soft hands as they kissed. Nearly eight inches was Darlene's expert opinion. Nice!

Darlene's little tosser was slightly under four inches. Pink and pretty, especially when it was skinned and dripping, which it certainly was that afternoon.

Darlene was holding back her first, creamy cum. Knowing that the longer one waits, the greater the intensity. But she didn't count on Mr. Hung kissing and licking her sissyish nipples so nicely as he stroked Darlene off.

Darlene was soon spurting all over her own, kissable belly. A really good cum too. The first, she was sure, of many with that nice Chinese gentleman.

Time to repay the man for that sweet favor.

"Thank you, Mr. Hung. That was great! Would you like to fuck me now? I really want you to. You're so handsome and so big and strong. And your cock is so big and beautiful. I want to feel it inside me. Would you do that for me?"

Well.

OK then.

But how?

"There's lube in the drawer," the blond beauty suggested. Then just to be sure she was understood, she got onto all fours and wiggled her beautiful ass at Mr. Hung.

Mr. Hung got the picture. Sometimes his mistress, when she wanted a favor or a new diamond, would let him fuck her bottom. And she always insisted on being lubed first.

With Mr. Hung's fingers.

She even seemed to enjoy it.

Though not half as much as Darlene clearly enjoyed it. She, after all, had a prostate. And Mr. Hung was rubbing it very well. Very, very well.

Mr. Hung knew from Darlene's cute little grunts that he was making Darlene's prostate happy. And that made him happy. He kept massaging the little walnut, enjoying Darlene's pants and gasps until the pantyboy, seized by pleasure, began to helplessly ejaculate her girlish cream.

Two for the pantyboy, none for the man, thus far.

Time for Mr. Hung to get on the scoreboard.

He knelt behind Darlene, put his cockhead "on target" and pushed. All of it. In.

Warm and wet.

Tight.

A total delight for man and pantyboy.

Thrusting in and out. Fucking.

Taking them both to a better place.

A higher plane.

Which got even higher when Mr. Hung's guts exploded and the pantyboy's anal canal was drenched with sperm and semen.

The happy man kept thrusting until his cream was spent and his cock softened. Then he withdrew, lay on his back, and brought the pantyboy to him for some post-coital kissing.

Which was very pleasing to them both. But Darlene wanted to make her man as happy as possible. So she repositioned herself so that her face was buried in Mr. Hung's crotch.

Darlene took the man's sopping, anally-juiced cock into her tiny mouth and began to nurse on it. Licking and sucking. Watching the man's excitement build until he was stiff, then horribly excited, then "close," then cumming down Darlene's throat in thick, creamy globs.

Two to two.

Mr. Hung broke the tie by having Darlene straddle his shoulders and fuck his throat and mouth until she spurted down Mr. Hung's throat. Something Mr. Hiung had naughtily dreamed about doing with someone but had never admitted it. Even to himself.

It was to be a weekend of fun and self-awareness.

Let's just say the score was well into double digits for both lovers by Sunday night. And that the pantyboys of Shanghai would have a new friend.

Chapter Eight – A typical 24 hours at the AGW Executive Club.

Thursday. 6 a.m., two months after Nathan Harden joined the AGW Executive Club, Mr. Shagmore's apartment on the 64th Floor.

Vanessa awoke slowly.

Oh my!

It hadn't been a dream.

Mr. Shagmore was sucking Vanessa's cockhead so nicely. As he tickled her prostate with two naughty fingers up her pussy.

Mmmm.

Vanessa loved Mr. Shagmore. Just as she loved all the nice AGW Club members and staff.

She really loved the fact that she was able to convince Mr. Stiffman to amend that silly 12-hour limit on consecutive love with a pantyboy.

The result of that rule was that men would meet their lovers of the evening after work – 5:02 p.m. – then have to wake them from a sound sleep or a sound fuck to kick the angels out at 5:02 a.m.

Even worse were the men who tried to beat the system by having one pantied angel from 5 p.m. to 10 or so, then another for the rest of the night.

Kinda ruined the romance aspect.

And Vanessa liked the romance.

She loved being adored.

She loved being romanced.

And, thank goodness, she loved being fucked.

It hadn't taken a lot of convincing to get Mr. Stiffman to amend "loving hours" to 5 p.m. to 8 a.m.

Men were very sympathetic to Vanessa's requests.

And she was sympathetic to theirs.

Take Mr. Shagmore, for example. The man who was showing Olympic-level skills in fellatio.

Vanessa hadn't been thrilled about their first date four months earlier.

The man, who was 52 and not as recuperative as he once was, had thought he needed an edge.

So he had a sunken "lube pool" installed in his apartment.

Each day, the staff filled it with fresh baby oil. And set the warmer for 4 p.m.

Each evening, Mr. Shagmore and his pantyboy du soir would immerse themselves in the pool – up to their necks – before retiring to Mr. Shagmore's emperor-sized bed.

It was a delightful enhancement to foreplay.

And afterplay.

Reducing the "ladies'" expectations of wild, ten-times-a-night passion to two or three really nasty ones.

Mr. Shagmore was wrong about that.

The AGW hostesses had no such expectations.

They wanted to be loved and admired. The fucking was extra.

And many of them, like Gina, had young-stud boyfriends who would fuck them silly on their day off.

But Vanessa played along with Mr. Shagmore.

And ended up loving it!

That kind of lubing makes your whole body seem like a pussy to your man, girls. And it feels awfully good when you rub your knob on his body too. Trust me.

Only bummer is the oily taste when you suck each other off. But you get used to that.

Despite her "hard work" of the previous night, Vanessa was soon cumming hard into her man's enraptured mouth.

Mr. Shagmore was thrilled to give Vanessa, whom he worshipped, a sexual delight.

Vanessa got a lot of that "worship" stuff.

She loved it.

And she deserved it.

Not only was Vanessa the hottest-looking piece of ass that the AGW Executive Club ever had, she was the hottest piece of ass that the AGW Executive Club had ever had.

The other girls should have been jealous of all her attention and honor. But they couldn't be.

She was just too darned nice. Unselfish. Generous.

Miss Congeniality.

A legend.

Who had never taken a day off.

Because she didn't want to.

She was having the best fun on earth. Why deviate?

Mr. Stiffman actually considered finding a way to marry Vanessa and leave AGW.

But he didn't.

He couldn't ask Vanessa to entertain important clients like Mr. Hung, because he was convinced that the clients would assemble a mercenary army, come back, storm the AGW Tower and carry Vanessa off.

Like Helen and Paris.

So every three days, Mr. Stiffman "dated" his one true love.

And consoled himself with others – lots of others – on the other days.

Meanwhile, Gina was being deliciously awakened by Nathan Harden's cock entering her lovely ass.

Gina and Nathan had become an every-three-days item over the past two months. Despite the Rules, love will find a way.

Gina knew that Nathan would be dating Vanessa for the first time that evening. And she wasn't jealous. Because Vanessa was a friend of hers.

Well, maybe Gina was a little jealous. Which she may have expressed by scheduling their date the evening and night before the Nathan-Vanessa date.

And by making it a date to remember.

Gina had begun her preparations for her big date with Nathan three days earlier by ordering something special from AGW Executive Club wardrobe.

A black, knee-length, flouncy-skirted, petticoated, strapless prom dress!

Gina knew that "scoring" on prom night pushed many buttons in the limited brains of most heterosexual men.

[Limited in that their brains were 90-plus percent preoccupied with thoughts of sex, competition, sex, sports, sex, work, and sex.].

Gina was going to surprise Nathan by appearing as his prom date, then letting him run up a scoreboard- busting tally.

At 4 p.m. on that Wednesday "date night," Gina was in her suite, sitting at her makeup table, trying to improve the near-perfection that was her face.

Someone knocked.

"Come-in," Gina called.

It was Alicia. "I saw wardrobe bringing you something special and you know how nosy I am, girlfriend."

Gina giggled. It was true. Alicia and Gina were besties and frequent cum-buddies. But Alicia was a bit inquisitive.

"I just want to take Mr. Harden to `The Land of Many Orgasms' tonight."

Alicia smiled. "I like that land. Could this have anything to do with Mr. Harden's upcoming date with Miss Vanessa?"

Gina hmphed. "Maybe. You know I love Vanessa. We all do. But she's from another planet than the rest of us."

"That just makes us all try harder, Honey," Alicia said. "Do you think maybe that was why Mr. Stiffman brought her here?"

"Mr. Stiffman brought Vanessa here so he could fuck her every three days."

Alicia started laughing and Gina joined in.

"No date tonight?" Gina asked.

"I'll be joining Nigel, the concierge, when he gets off at 6. So I have an extra hour to get beautiful. Though I think you'll sail right past me in beauty tonight."

It was true.

Gina's makeup was three parts girl next door and one part Vegas hooker. The combination that has stirred men's testicles for millennia.

Her long, freshly-shaved legs were encased in the sheerest, black, stockings. The stockings were anchored with a wispy black, garter belt. Her red-painted toesies peeked through her stockings and her strappy black sandals with four-inch, pencil heels.

Panties would seem de rigeur for pantyboys, but they were rarely worn by the 62nd floor lovelies.

But Gina had them on that evening.

Black, almost translucent, granny panties that did little to conceal her "excitement."

"Granny panties?" Alicia asked.

"It's prom. I'm a virgin."

Alicia laughed. "Not for long looking like that, Honey. I'll leave you to it. Wait. Do you need help with that dress?"

"That would be nice."

Sixty-four minutes later, a radiant Gina, carrying her overnight bag, was walking toward the elevator to the 63rd floor, where she would knock on Mr. Harden's door at the appointed hour of 5:15.

There were four other girls on their way to their dates on the elevator with Gina.

They all whistled and giggled.

The sight of anyone of them would have cured any erectile dysfunction anywhere. But they were in awe of Gina.

"Prom night," Gina said with a big smile.

Each resolved to try that on their next "special" date.

Two got off with Gina at 63. The others were on their way to 64.

Gina clacked down the hallway to apartment 6321. And knocked.

Nathan opened the door instantly and his cock ignited with lust.

Nathan had been half in love with Gina since the night he joined the Club.

The other half was devoted to the 17 other pantyboys he had fucked over the past two months.

But Gina was still his favorite.

And she looked spectacular!

Just like a prom girl.

Wait.

Was that her intent?

Did Gina know that the whole "fuck the prom girl" thing was one of Nathan's deepest fantasies?

[Yeah. Right. Nathan was the ONLY guy who thought he should have gotten laid at his prom and regretted it for years.]

What an angel Gina was!

Breathing heavily, Nathan let Gina in, set her overnight bag down and told her, "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, my angel!"

Gina blushed.

Imagine that.

A veteran of hundreds of ass-fuckings could still blush.

Maybe Nathan and Gina were meant for each other.

They certainly were that Wednesday night.

Nathan had Gina twirl for him.

Which almost made him wish he were wearing a white dinner jacket with red carnation and black pants. And taking her to a prom where he could show her off. Then take her home and fuck her all night.

Instead of the shortie bathrobe and slippers he was wearing in anticipation of Gina arriving in lingerie.

Nathan wanted to take pictures of Gina on his cell phone so that he could remember that moment. Until he remembered that Club secrecy rules prohibited pictures. And cell phones.

So he just hugged, kissed and caressed Gina until rubbing against her made him spunk.

All over her beautiful dress.

Nathan began to apologize until a giggling Gina stopped him. "That's why I wore this, silly. Now help me get it off so we can get in bed."

Did Nathan deserve that sort of loving attitude and treatment? Who among us does?

Nathan led his down-to-her-lingerie-lover to his big bed and sat on it as she stood facing him.

Nathan didn't often have the opportunity to remove panties (since the 62nd floor girls rarely wore them).

So he took great pleasure in divesting Vanessa of her massive granny panties.

Exposing her sweet, achy, needy cock and trembling peanuts to his satyr-like lust.

Seized by a hot impulse, he took Gina's penis into his mouth and kissed, licked and sucked it to a magnificently creamy conclusion.

Which, oddly enough, was the first time that Nathan had sucked a girlish cock. Though he had eaten many an asspussy.

The whole "hetero" hangup can be hard to shake. Let's postulate that Nathan thought of asseating as cunnilingus, a perfectly hetero activity, while fellating his sissyboy was a taboo.

End of taboo for sure.

He liked sucking Gina's pretty sissycock.

Who wouldn't?

Their special night picked up from there. Nathan's high-school promish regrets were forever sated.

Especially when , after their second fuck, Gina excused herself for a bathroom break and returned with freshened make-up and full, pink stockings and lingerie,

Giving Nathan someone "new" to fuck,

A night to remember.

Would it ensure Nathan's continued devotion to Gina after his Thursday night with Vanessa?

Let's just see.

Beginning with a return to Thursday morning at 6 a.m.

On the 62nd floor, Nigel, the concierge, had left his conjugal bliss-place and Alicia at 5 a.m. His shift started at 6 – he was relieving Geoffrey – and there was no way he was going to be late for that.

It was VERY difficult to disengage oneself from Alicia, but if Nigel chose pleasure over responsibility, he would soon have neither.

Alicia gave her working man a proper sendoff. A nice breakfast of well-eaten pantyboy ass, followed by a lovely bumsplitter of a fuck.

The young beauty then rolled over and stole a bit more sleep.

Alicia awoke at 7:45, took a pee, gathered up her personals and slid out the door. Wearing only her 4.5-inch pink pumps. And looking very fuckable, despite mangled makeup and blotches of dried cum from her hair to her toes.

On her way to her suite, she passed the elevator. Which dinged open. And out stepped Gina and Vanessa.

Both looking quite delicious, despite their "hard" nights.

Gina was wearing a white babydoll, white stay-up stockings and white, skyscraper sandals.

Good, Alicia thought. She knew that Gina's plan was to switch the lingerie from black to pink to white. Things must have gone well.

Gina's big smile aimed at Alicia confirmed it.

Vanessa said good morning to them both and, as the culture often required within the harem, gave both Gina and Alicia a big hug.

Which told both Gina and Alicia that Vanessa was still sporting a stiffie.

Gina and Alicia's cocks were in full droop. Their speculation was binary: Vanessa had had an almost sexless night, was denied all but say, two or three orgasms and was disappointed and needy. Or Vanessa was a freak of nature who spunked all night and engendered spunk all night. But was still ready and randy.

Neither believed the former.

How was Gina to compete with that?

Vanessa recommended that they all meet for breakfast after they cleaned up.

Gina wanted to shower get into bed and sleep until prep for her date that night with Mr. Elder.

But there was no way she was going to let Vanessa think that Gina's constitution was weak.

"Great idea, Honey," Gina replied. "Give me 45 minutes to get all of Mr. Harden's sperm out of my hair and lots of other places. He adores me, you know."

Darn it. Gina didn't want to add that last part. It was too obvious.

But Vanessa acted as if Gina's utterance had been perfectly normal. "I can see why he adores you, Sweetie," Vanessa said. "You're a rare beauty."

Darn it again! Gina couldn't get any bile up for Vanessa. She was just too nice.

Alicia looked on with some amusement at her BFF sparring with a "rival" who was almost assuredly not interested in the same man that Gina was.

Gina said goodbye to Alicia and Vanessa and headed for her suite. Meeting Ellen, her neighbor, just opening her door.

"Good morning, Helen," Gina said.

Oh dear.

Helen's pretty face was covered with cum. Could it be...?

"Hi, Gina. Yeah. It was Mr. Launcher. He feels he has to send a girl off with a parting gift.' I think it's a little too much Slave Girl and then Emperor' stuff for me, but he's such a great lover the rest of the evening and night, I hate to pass on dates with him. You know?"

Gina knew. She had a love-not love thing with Mr. Launcher too.

Darn men!

They're all so different. And each weird in his own way.

Anyway, Gina let herself in, dropped her bag and headed for the shower.

The staff would empty her bag, clean everything, including the prom dress, and repack it for the coming evening -based on her instructions. Who was she seeing that night? Oh yeah. Mr. Elder.

Mr. Elder was the oldest Club member, but he was also one of the best lovers.

Gina patted herself dry, made up her face lightly, and chose her breakfast outfit.

Perfect.

Gina strode into the 62nd floor dining area wearing only pink, four-inch, stiletto pumps.

And got no stares from the other six pantyboys there having breakfast.

Most of them were similarly dressed. Though two were wearing stockings and garters.

Vanessa and Alicia weren't there yet. And then they were.

Alicia was wearing white stockings and white pumps. Vanessa wore a tented, pouch panty; white training bra; and bedroom slippers.

But she was still the stunner of the group.

Gina looked at Vanessa with awe once again. For a non-beauty consideration.

Vanessa knew she had the prettiest penis in the harem. She covered it up in a public area with her sisters.

Vanessa knew that her nipples were wonders of nature. Her bra made her an anti-braggart.

How can I dislike this girl, Gina asked herself.

Even if she did decide to steal her boyfriend that night.

Gina, Alicia and Vanessa ate a light, but tasty breakfast.

Gina didn't say much.

She was gathering her thoughts and her courage. Then Gina asked Vanessa:

"Would you like to visit my room today?"

Translation – Would you like to have four or five hours of sweaty, passionate, pantyboy-lesbian sex with me from now until we have to stop, by rule, at 3?

Gina was a little embarrassed to ask Vanessa that in front of her sometime lover Alicia. But she felt better when she saw Alicia's broad smile.

Vanessa smiled too.

"I would love that, Honey. Would you excuse us, Alicia?"

"Gladly. I'm going to take a power nap. Enjoy yourselves."

"Thirty minutes from now in your suite?" Vanessa asked Gina.

"Perfect," Gina replied.

Both headed for their private spaces and set to work.

While Vanessa didn't mind looking "frumpy" at breakfast in the dining hall, she would certainly "go for gold" in a sex session with Gina.

When one is queen; even a benevolent, sweet, Miss Congeniality queen, one wears one's crown.

When she appeared at Gina's door 29 minutes later, it was in full battle array: perfect, semi-slutty makeup; a full-length, filmy, lilac-colored peignoir; covering lilac, seamed, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings with matching garter belt; and five-inch, lilac stiletto pumps.

Gina gasped.

And erected.

Many (most, even) pantyboys love men.

But they see other pantyboys as the competition.

And Vanessa, despite Gina's one A-game outfit of black lingerie, would win any competition in the Alpha Quadrant of the Galaxy.

So, to paraphrase the subtitle of "Dr. Strangelove," Gina should stop worrying and love Vanessa.

Vanessa was easy to love.

The exquisite pantyboys tongue-kissed all the way to Gina's bed, then shucking off their peignoirs, they fell onto the sheets.

Rubbing cocks.

Kissing.

Darn it.

Vanessa was also the best kisser Gina had ever kissed.

It occurred to Gina that she had never really seen Vanessa's cock – widely accepted as the prettiest girlie cock of all time.

So she broke the kiss and slid south to face Vanessa's aching penis.

It was true.

Vanessa's peener was a girlish delight.

A cut, exposed jewel of a cockhead dripping with precum.

The perfect pinkness.

A lovely sack of femmy testicles.

Gina was drawn to the three treasures.

Could she really worship Vanessa until 3 p.m.?

Oh no. Had she just thought the w-word about Vanessa?

She had.

Vanessa's lovers worshipped Vanessa.

Then a wonderful thing happened.

Gina stopped thinking.

Which happens sometimes during great sex.

And the fun Gina and Vanessa had that day was great sex.

They kissed at 3 p.m. amid hot promises of a repeat session the following afternoon.

Which, to Gina, meant that there was no way that Vanessa would overly "poach" Mr. Harden that evening and night.

As Gina's friend.

Vanessa would pull her punches with Nathan.

Gina was sure of that.

Gina was wrong.

It wasn't in Vanessa's nature.

Please tell me what you think at bc20002015@hotmail.com

My other stories on nifty:

"Stunners" transgender -- tv

"Acting Up" transgender -- control

"Panty Pleasures" transgender -- young friends

"Woodville" transgender -- tv

"Mothered" transgender -- control

"Panty Town" transgender -- teen

"Tradition" transgender -- teen

"Punished" transgender -- high school

"Panty Paradise" transgender -- teen

"Kevin and Molly Go to Camp" -- transgender -- teen

"Lovelife" -- transgender -- high school

"My Three Sissies" -- transgender -- tv

"Acting Out" -- transgender -- high school

"Explorers" -- transgender -- high school

"Pantied" -- transgender -- young friends

"Rebuilding" -- transgender -- teen

"The Au Pair" -- transgender -- surgery

"Birthday Girl" -- transgender -- teen

"Genes" -- transgender -- high school

"Brothers in Panties" -- transgender -- teen

"Coach" -- transgender -- control

"Intervention" -- transgender -- high school

"Winners" -- transgender -- teen

"Teased" transgender -- high school

"Irish Girls" transgender -- teen

"Finished" -- transgender -- teen

"Role Model" -- transgender -- high school

"Freedom" -- transgender -- high school

"Panty Fiesta" -- transgender -- control

"Experiments" -- transgender college

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"Poker" -- transgender -- tv

"Panty Sabbatical" -- transgender -- high school

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"Trained" -- transgender -- control

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"Geography" -- transgender -- tv

"Somewhere" -- transgender -- high school

"Next Door Bride" -- transgender -- chemical (though I don't think it has

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"Service" -- transgender -- tv

"Test Driven" -- transgender -- tv

"Sissy Stepmother" -- transgender -- tv

"Slacker Moms" -- transgender -- tv

"Sissies and the City" -- transgender -- tv

"Paid in Full" -- transgender -- tv

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"The Panty Life" -- transgender -- tv

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"Fully Fashioned" -- transgender -- tv

"Tommy's Summer Job" -- transgender -- tv

"Tuition Assistance" -- transgender -- tv

"Sweeties" -- transgender -- young friends

"Pretty Boy" -- transgender -- high school

"Competition" -- transgender -- high school

"Strokes" -- transgender -- high school

"Hosed" -- transgender tv

"Sanctuary" -- transgender – tv

"Happily Married" – transgender – tv

"Late Vocation" – transgender – tv

"Kelly in Miniskirts" – transgender - tv

"Best Neighborhood Ever" – transgender - tv

"Chrissie Goes to College" – transgender - tv