My Life at Queen Marys

My Life At Queen Mary's

by Little Sissy Tippytoes

"Queen Mary, she's my friend;

Yes, I believe I'll go see her again."

Bob Dylan

"Just Like A Woman"

AUTHOR'S PREFACE

My first encounter with a full-fledged drag queen occurred enough years ago that I do not care to reveal exactly how many. It was a disturbing encounter, in more ways than one. I was a young soldier in the Army, recently graduated from basic training and now serving as a supply clerk at Fort Myer, Virginia, a few miles south of Washington, DC.

As is true of young soldiers everywhere, I hung out with a bunch of guys from my platoon, since those were the people I spent most of my time with, and felt closest to, aside from my folks back home. It seemed that the goal in life of all the guys in my barracks - again, like most soldiers everywhere - was to earn weekend passes, so we could go off-base and let what little hair we possessed down. In our case, we liked to go into DC, to drink in all the bars where young secretaries or college girls congregated. Of course, we never wore our uniforms; but, even in those short-hair days, I'm sure our haircuts identified us as GI's. It didn't matter. We were for the most part too shy and too awkward to hit on most of the girls we met, anyway; but, we liked being around them, so we continued to go to the clubs where they hung out.

One night, however, one of the guys said he had an interesting place he wanted to show us. So, about five of us piled into his car (some of us lowly GI's actually did own cars!) and, with a couple of six-packs, picked up at an off-base package store, safely stowed on the floor in the back seat, we set off for this mysterious place our barrack-mate had planned for us to visit.

It turned out to be a club, located at 14th and Irving Sts. in Northwest DC, called "Bob-In." I remember thinking at the time that it should have been called "Bob's Inn," or something like that. But, I don't recall seeing any burned out tubes on the neon lights over the front door of the place; and, I definitely recall the name "Bob-In." Perhaps it was more years ago than my memory can accurately handle.

Anyway, after we parked the car, the five of us sauntered into the club, and found a table near the bar. Once our eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting, we began to notice something odd. There seemed to be only guys in the place. Somewhat puzzled, we asked our buddy, the one who'd brought us there, what the hell was going on. "Can't you figure it out?" he asked. Slowly, depending on the extent of our own individual naivete, the lightbulbs began to click on in our brains. This was what, in those days before "gay" meant something other than "jolly" or "merry," was known as a "queer" bar.

Well, we were all pretty steamed. "Hey, what's the deal?" we all protested. "We ain't interested in this shit! Let's go over to "Maggie's" at Tenley Circle and check out the chicks!"

But, our host merely put his index finger across his lips and said, "Sshh. You ain't seen the good part, yet."

Sure enough, about a half-hour later, as we were just getting started on our second pitcher of draft, the door opened and in walked these two "ladies." Even rubes off the farm like us, even rubes off the farm who were working on a Friday night drunk, could tell that these two "ladies" were not female. No way. Our eyes were bulging so far out of their sockets, they looked like saucers. The two drag queens swished by us without a word, without even a glance, as I recall, and our disbelieving eyes followed their sashay until the guy who'd brought us said, in a stage-whisper, "Quit staring, you guys! Somebody might take offense!"

A little chagrined, we returned to our pitcher. But, for the next hour or so, until we'd finished the beer, we stole sidelong glances at these two alien - to us, anyway - creatures, unable to believe such people existed.

It was such an unnerving experience, we all decided to visit the "Bob-In" the following Friday night, to confirm that what we had seen the previous Friday actually had occurred. Sure enough, these same two drag queens appeared in the entrance, and slowly paraded the length of the bar, swishing and sashaying, and looking over the clientele as though they were queens inspecting their royal guard, or, more likely, the local peasantry. And again, we were rendered speechless, completely amazed by their self-confident, assertive brashness.

This night, we had finished two pitchers before the two queens put in their appearance. Shortly after they had arrived and performed their promenade from the entrance to the back of the room, and we had all stared in wonder and disbelief, just as we had the week before, I realized I had to relieve myself. So, I got up and headed for the restroom. When I opened the door, I was shocked to discover one of the drag queens was in there, bent over the sink, fixing - his? her? - her makeup. She was a short, thin Negro with beautifully clear chocolate skin, and heavily processed hair, either that, or a carefully styled, high-quality wig. I'm not certain breast augmentation surgery was being performed routinely yet for men who desired to become women. Sex reassignment surgery was not even a topic in the news at that time. But, I remember this person had what appeared to be breasts, and they were perfectly proportioned to her body. Except for the baritone voice and the exaggerated mannerisms, she might have been able to pass as a woman in any environment. As I stood there, doorknob in hand, staring at her, my mouth wide open, my jaw dropped down to my chest, I realized that, by any measure of the word, she was gorgeous. She simply looked at me in the mirror; then, smiling this spectacular smile, turned her head and said, in a husky voice, "Just give me a couple of minutes, Sugar. I got me a date, and I gotta look good, baby."

With that, she went back to work on her face. My mouth sort of flapped up and down, but no sound came out. I just backed out the door, and waited outside, hands trembling, face bathed in a cold sweat. Finally, she emerged from the toilet, gave me a wink and a smile, and swished off to join her "date." The encounter probably lasted no longer than 30 seconds. I proceeded to do my business and return to my table, where I begged the guys to pack up and leave.

We never returned to "Bob-In," or at least I never did, anyway. I was thoroughly shaken by the brief scene which had occurred in the men's room with what, in retrospect, I realize now was a lovely, well-turned-out drag queen. I'm not sure if she was a prostitute and the "date" was actually a customer, or if she actually had a male lover. Whichever it was, this person was excited and hopeful, like anyone getting ready for a date would be.

For a long time I buried my memory of that experience until, at a point several years later, I found myself in a relationship that was rapidly, disastrously, dissolving. I had learned she was carrying on an affair behind my back, and this knowledge made it nearly impossible for me to become sexually aroused by her. I was just too angry to maintain any interest in her. I contented myself, as many sexually frustrated, celibate-against-their-wishes-men do; I masturbated. But I noticed that my masturbation fantasies were beginning to take a strange turn. I would envision myself dressed as a woman, being undressed by a handsome, well-endowed man (me) and, stripped to just my garterbelt and stockings, being ravished until I would at last erupt in a truly mind-blowing orgasm. One afternoon, as I was experiencing this fantasy for the umpteenth time, I was shocked to discover the female me no longer looked like me, but had suddenly become the drag queen I had encountered so long ago at "Bob-In." Needless to say, I was quite upset by this whole weird scene.

But the fantasy persisted. I began picturing myself in stockings and garterbelt until, no longer able to resist the pull of the forbidden, I visited a Frederick's Of Hollywood at a nearby mall, and purchased these items, along with a battery-operated, penis-shaped vibrator. I took my purchases home, went into my bedroom, and stripped naked. I put on the garterbelt; the feel of the garter straps against my naked thighs produced an instant erection. I was sweating, nervous and apprehensive about what I was doing. But, I persisted. With shaking hands, I pulled the stockings up my legs, discovering the unbelievably sensual feel of the shimmery nylon against them. I was nearly crying, I was so aroused. I lay on the bed and took the vibrator in my hand. I smeared some Vaseline jelly over it, and then, raising my nylon-clad legs off the bed, and spreading and bending them, I proceeded to introduce the vibrator to my ass.

Never, ever had I done anything like this before in my life. I was so nervous I was shivering. My body was covered with goosebumps. Slowly, with lip-quivering anxiety, I pushed the vibrator into my rectum. It hurt like hell, and I immediately lost my erection. But, I persisted, and finally it was seated all the way. I flipped the switch at its base, and instantly, it began to hum and vibrate inside me, tickling my prostate. My erection began to return, and I aided it along with excited manipulations. Finally, openly sobbing by now in the realization that I was a "queer," and my soul was lost forever, I came. Huge spurts of hot, milk-white sperm splattered over my chest. I thought it would go on forever. But, it finally ended, and I turned off the vibrator, and pulled it ever so slowly out of my ass. I lay there on the bed totally spent, scooping my cum onto my finger and then licking it off. It tasted salty. I wanted to vomit. Instead, I began to weep and I lay there sobbing until at long last I cried myself to sleep.

Was I "queer?" If I was, I didn't want to know it. I avoided any and all sexual stimuli for the next several weeks. But there was no avoiding the power of my unconscious. Night after night the image of that drag queen in the bathroom at "Bob-In" haunted my dreams, until, once again unable to resist its lure, I succumbed to temptation and had another "session" in my bedroom.

After that, I decided to explore the possibility that I myself might have transvestite tendencies. I began wearing panties and pantyhose under my trousers. I even wore them to work. Finally, I got up the nerve to try dressing up all the way. I went to a local store where I purchased a dress, a "gift for the wife," as I told the clerk. I hoped the size was right. I would be too embarrassed to return it if it weren't. I also purchased a pair of high-heels, and a slip. Then, stopping at a drugstore on the way home from the mall, I bought some lipstick and rouge.

I got all my purchases home, and, trembling all over in nervous anticipation, went into the bathroom to shower and prepare myself for my "coming out." I even shaved my legs, for the first time ever. I then went into my bedroom and put on my panties, garterbelt and stockings. These were familiar friends by now, and I felt comforted by their touch against my naked skin. The stockings especially felt wonderful against my shaved legs - what a difference removing my leg hair made!

Then, I carefully put on the slip and the dress (it fit!), and stepped into the shoes (they fit, too! Good guess!). I went back into the bathroom where I carefully applied a little rouge and lipstick. Then, I walked into the living room, trying to sway my hips the way women do. I walked around awhile, then tried sitting down and crossing my legs, the feel of the skirt against my nylon-encased legs definitely interesting. Then, I walked down the hall and into my bedroom where I stopped before the full-length mirror attached to my closet door. I took one look at myself in the mirror, and burst out laughing. Boy, did I look ridiculous! I felt stupid and silly. Quickly, I tore off the dress and slip and shoes, tossed them in a garbage bag, and, after removing my makeup and putting on my regular clothes, took the bag out to the dumpster where I threw it away without a second thought.

I eventually got rid of the garterbelt, stockings and panties, too. But I never got rid of the haunting image of that captivating drag queen I had encountered so long ago. Once in a while, just for fun, I'll conjure up her image and treat myself to a great self-administered orgasm.

But, I don't wear ladies' undies anymore. Perhaps I've just grown too old and tired for that kind of forbidden excitement. I know I would be greatly embarrassed if my wife ever caught me playing such games.

I'll never forget those incredible orgasms I would have in my bedroom, my vibrator humming gaily away in my asshole. And I'll always remember that little queen with the great big smile I met so many years ago.

Long may her flag wave.

LST

I'm sitting here talking to the attorney they've assigned to me, trying to make him understand all that has happened to me in the past six months. But it's hard, because I'm not even sure I understand it very well, myself.

I know how it started, though. God, what a nightmare that was. I had met Sandy at a downtown bar called Vinnie's. A bunch of us guys had signed out to go off-base after dinner. One of my barracks mates, Chuck Simmons, owned a beat up old '61 Fairlane, and he had said he was going into DC because, "Tonight's the night I'm gonna dip the wick! Payday's gonna bring the payoff! Yessirree!"

So four of us piled into Chuck's car and headed off down Arlington Boulevard into the city, making a little detour at a 7-11 to pick up a couple of six-packs to make the ride a little more enjoyable. Before long we were crossing Key Bridge and heading into Georgetown. But that wasn't our destination. That was where all the rich college kids hung out, and we were just a bunch of young GIs, too poor and too low-class to try mixing with them. No, we were headed downtown to 14th St., where all the working class kids went to dance the twist at Benny's Rebel Room, or drink endless pitchers of beer while enjoying a pizza at Vinnie's.

That's what we did that night, went to Vinnie's. The line was too long trying to get into Benny's, and we wanted to find some girls fast. DC had a midnight curfew on alcohol and we didn't want to waste one single minute standing in a line outside a bar that was actually more expensive to drink at than the Georgetown hangouts we had passed by.

So there we were in Vinnie's, sucking down the pizza, waving our schooners and singing "Volare" at the top of our voices, when in walked Sandy with three other girls. You know that scene in "West Side Story" where Tony and Maria meet for the first time at the dance at the settlement house? And everything but them is sort of blurred into a hazy shadow? Well, that's what it was like for me when I first laid eyes on Sandy. It was like the whole world disappeared and there was nothing else and no one else but her.

One of the guys stood up and, bold from the beer, invited the girls over to join us. For one heartstopping moment, I thought they were going to put their noses in the air, turn around, and walk right back out the door. But, miracle of miracles! They came right over and stood waiting while we scurried about locating empty chairs to set around the table for them. And then, oh, sing my heart! Sandy took the chair next to me! I was so nervous I nearly dropped my pizza and spilled my beer. But I managed to pretend an outward calm, and introduced myself, even remembering to wipe my pizza-sauce smeared hand clean before taking hers in one of those nerve-wracking handshakes where you don't want to squeeze too hard for fear of making her think you're a brute, but you don't want it to be too soggy, either, or she'll think you're a wimp. So, you just sort of shake her hand up and down, and hope for the best.

Evidently, my best was pretty good, because before you could snap your finger, we were having a great conversation, with lots of laughter, and I found out she wasn't dating (how could such a beauty not be taken?), and she was a secretary in a Government agency, and she had been recruited while she was in high school in Johnstown, PA. The whole time we sat there, I pretended to be just as cool as could be, but I can remember my feet wouldn't stay still, and sort of danced up and down the entire evening. Sandy discovered that I didn't have wheels, which was a big handicap for me, since that meant either I would have to arrange a double date, or we would have to take a bus (what a damper that idea was!) if we were going to see one another. But, then I found out one of her roommates had a car, and didn't mind loaning it to Sandy once in a while. Terrific!

So we were able to begin a relationship. She didn't mind at all that I was a broke and lonesome GI soldier-boy from Kansas. That surprised me, actually, because I figured girls who came to DC to work were looking for husbands who had the potential of being bigshot government officials somewhere down the line. Her response, after she got over laughing, was, "Hey! I'm only eighteen years old! I want to have some good times before I start planning the rest of my life!" She was truly the answer to my dreams.

And we did have some great times. We would visit museums, which were free. We would go to the movies, which were inexpensive. We would buy dinner at a hotdog stand. Ours was a very affordable romance. But, there was a dark cloud in the middle of it all, and it loomed ever larger the deeper our relationship became. The cloud, of course, was sex. I wanted it. She would tolerate a semblance of it. I wanted to go all the way. She wasn't even willing to take the first step.

We would sit in movie theaters, my arm draped over the back of her seat until it began to get tingly and numb. At a strategic moment in the movie, usually when she was engrossed with the action on the screen, my hand would snake down over her shoulder and come to rest on her breast. Ever so gently, she would place her hand over mine, then nudge it away from her breast. I would sit there, saying nothing, tears of frustration forming in my eyes. When we would sit in her roommate's car, parked at the curb outside her apartment building, I would try unbuttoning a couple buttons of her blouse. If I couldn't feel her breasts, hopefully I might at least get a glimpse of her cleavage. No soap. She would squirm, mutter "No," and push me away while she buttoned herself back up.

My campaign of attack at the other end was just as fruitless. Once, I actually was able to slide my hand all the way up her skirt to the top of her stockings. We were kissing, and my tongue was in her mouth. She bit down so hard on it, I thought she was going to draw blood. I was gasping and moaning, but she wouldn't let go. Finally, I got the point, and pulled my hand out from under her skirt. As soon as my hand hit the cool air, she let go of my tongue. I could barely speak, and couldn't taste anything the rest of the weekend.

Needless to say, I was totally frustrated. And blue. I was getting nowhere, and my horniness was beginning to affect me. I even started whacking off in the shower, a dangerous thing to do, as the other guys would laugh at me if they caught me. I almost didn't care, to tell the truth.

Finally, I guess I'd had enough. I began inventing excuses for not going into town on weekend pass. And I found ways to avoid returning Sandy's calls. I didn't have the courage to confront her with my frustrations; I reasoned she probably already knew, and didn't care. Eventually, I started hanging out at the on-base beer hall, a sort of dive for the social misfits who had nothing better to do. I would drink myself into a near-stupor, then stagger back to the barracks, where I would collapse into my bunk and sleep until reveille formation the next morning. I would stand in the formation, barely aware of what was going on, hoping someone would simply guide me to the latrine so I could stick my head under the faucet and wash the cobwebs out of my brain in time to make it to breakfast.

One evening, just after the day's training had finished and Retreat had been sounded, bringing to a close the business of the day, Chuck and another friend, Alvin (Big Al), stopped me on the way back to the barracks. They fell in, one guy on either side of me, and Chuck threw his arm around my neck. "Hey, podner," he exclaimed, "Long time, no see. Where you been keepin' yourself?"

"Oh, around," I mumbled.

"You and Sandy quits?" he asked.

"Yeh, I guess so," I said. "I just get too frustrated when I'm with her. Y'know?"

"Man, I know just how you feel. I had the same experience with her roommate, Betty."

"The one with the huge bazooms?"

Big Al laughed.

Chuck said, in a low, confidential tone, "Lemme ask ya something, Stevie. What the hell is the point of having big tits if you ain't ever gonna let anybody touch 'em, or even look at 'em?"

Big Al continued laughing.

My face took on a pained expression. Chuck looked at me sympathetically. "I see you know what I mean, little fella," he said. "You've been put through the same wringer, huh?"

I looked at the ground. "It got so bad I just couldn't go back there anymore. I was afraid I was going to end up doing something stupid, like raping her or something."

He patted my shoulder, and we walked some more in silence. Then, all of a sudden, he poked me in the ribs with his other hand. "Hey!" he shouted. "You ever had your cock sucked before?"

I stopped dead in my tracks. I looked at him as though I were looking at a Martian. "Whaaat?"

Big Al laughed again. Chuck leaned over until his mouth was almost wrapped around my ear. Very softly, he said, "You heard me, short buddy. Have you ever had your cock sucked?"

"No, I can't say I have. So what?" I retorted.

"Me and Big Al here know a place where you can get it done. And I mean by a real pro."

I was curious, but I didn't want to betray myself, so I acted sort of detached and cool. "Oh, yeh? Like I said, so what?"

He stared right into my eyes. "Whaddya mean, so what? C'mon. Ain't you even a little bit curious to find out more?"

"Listen," I said, "I can't even get Sandy to let me play with her tits, let alone have her do something like that. So, the answer to your question is, 'No, I've never had my cock sucked.' OK? And I'm not too curious to find out more, either."

Liar.

Chuck took a step back. He nudged Al, and said, "Listen to this, Big Al. There's a guy here among us who ain't interested in bein' an All-American one-hunnerd-percent male. You ever hear of any guy who didn't want a blowjob?"

Al laughed again. "Even queers want blowjobs, man," he said.

I had to laugh at this comment, stupid as it was. "Ok, ok," I said. "So where are these babes, and how much do they charge?"

Chuck threw his arms out wide. "That's the beauty of it, little guy. The chicks I'm talkin' about practically give it away. I'm tellin' ya. You gotta see it to believe it."

Al said, "Yeh, we're gonna go meet 'em after dinner. Wanna come along?"

My big prospect for the evening was a movie and another sloshing drunk at the beer hall. "Ok, what the hell," I said. "I'll go with you."

Both men slapped me on the back, and we continued on to the mess hall, where we ate dinner with a hundred and fifty of our most intimate friends, then went back to the barracks to shower and change into civvies for our big night on the town.

Once again, there we were in Chuck's car, tooling down Arlington Boulevard, two sixpacks on the rear seat under my tender loving care, heading for the bright lights of downtown Washington. We took the Whitehurst Freeway past Georgetown, then headed down K Street for 14th Street. Only, when we got to 14th Street, instead of parking at the downtown clubs, Chuck turned left and headed uptown. We drove several blocks until we had left the downtown part of 14th Street behind us. Now, we were entering that part of 14th Street that divided black and white DC. On one side were neighborhoods that were primarily Negro, filled with rowhouses converted into apartments, and small businesses, and liquor stores and nightclubs. On the other side were primarily white-owned apartment buildings whose occupants pointed their interests in the direction of upscale 16th Street, lined by single-family houses and churches and embassies. For a young white boy from semi-rural Kansas, it was an eerie experience to see real segregation in person.

The club we were headed for was located on the black side of 14th Street, on U Street, in the middle of the block between 13th and 14th Streets. It was called Queen Mary's, and it had very little to recommend itself to outsiders. It looked as though it had been built into a storefront which once might have housed a small business, perhaps a drycleaner or a repair shop of some sort. It was narrow, not at all like a nightclub would look. But it was also very deep, extending from the street perhaps a good two hundred feet. Just inside the entrance, on the right side, was a bar that accommodated about a dozen stools. Behind the bar was a short, thin Negro man wearing a white apron who I assumed was the bartender. In those days in DC, there was some sort of ordinance that required anyone drinking an alcoholic beverage to be seated. You couldn't even carry your drink around, but had to have a waiter or waitress do that for you. So all bars had to have stools. Stupid, huh?

On the left side of the entrance was an area in which there were a few tables, each of which could accommodate four people. Beyond the tables, against the wall, were booths for four, extending all the way along the wall to an open area in the rear of the club which was where people could dance. Against the back wall was a jukebox, which, as Chuck, Al and I entered, was blaring away. I think it was either Otis Redding or James Brown singing. The volume on the jukebox was turned up so loud we couldn't hear any conversation, even though we noticed, as our eyes grew accustomed to the dim, smoky interior, that the place was pretty full.

At the entrance, we were met by an enormous black man, who must have been at least six-feet three, and built like an NFL football lineman. His skin was of that deep black color, almost shiny black, that hinted of a shade of dark purple. He evidently was the maitre d', or the bouncer, or something like that.

Chuck and Al greeted him warmly. "Hey, Teddy, how's it hangin'?" They shook his hand and patted his shoulder and joked with him for a minute or two. Then, they both turned to face me, and Chuck said, "Hey, Teddy, we want you to meet our little buddy, Stevie. He's the guy we been telling you about."

Teddy, who towered over my five-foot, eight-inch slender frame, had a surprisingly gentle voice for such a large person. He took my hand in his, and it was warm and almost soft, and said to Chuck, "I'm pleased you finally brought him along, my friend." Then, turning to look directly in my eyes, he said to me, "Welcome to Queen Mary's. I hope you enjoy yourself tonight. Perhaps we shall become good friends."

His English was not at all like that spoken by the Negro GIs in my outfit, guys who had been drafted off the farm or out of the tough inner cities of the southeastern US, places like Birmingham, or Atlanta. Teddy spoke in an almost formal tone, with very precise diction like an English person, and softly, gently, as I had mentioned.

After the introductions, he invited us to find a seat in the fairly crowded room. We located an empty booth about two-thirds of the way into the long, narrow room, and took a seat. A waitress who had been standing at the bar picked up her tray and headed toward us. She was a white girl, with that pale white skin that is so white it seems like marble, with a hint of blue in it. About the time she reached our booth, I was at last able to make out shapes in the semi-dark interior. Suddenly, I realized there was something odd about the waitress. She stepped up to our booth, pulled her pad and pencil out and asked, in a distinctly masculine voice, "What can I get you fellows?"

My eyes bugged out of my head and my jaw felt like it was going to drop all the way to the tabletop. Chuck, just as cool as a cucumber, said, "How about a pitcher of draft, and a bowl of popcorn, Robin, baby?"

The waitress made a sound like, "Hhmmmhh. Baby, hmmm?" Then she said, "Be right back. Just relax."

I turned to Chuck and whispered, sort of loud, "Chuck! Did you notice that waitress? I think that's a guy dressed like a girl!"

Both he and Big Al began to laugh. Then, Chuck leaned back to me and said, softly, "You're right, little fella. It is a guy. Pretty neat, huh?"

I could hardly breathe. "What kind of place is this, anyway?"

But just then, the waitress, Robin, came back with a pitcher and three mugs, and placed them on the table. "Be right back with the popcorn," she said, in a husky baritone. She turned towards the bar, and I was struck by how female she looked from the rear. Her long, pale-blonde hair was done up in a French twist. Her pinched-in waist flared quite nicely to form perfect hips, and her bottom was rounded into two soft globes that tapered into long, slender legs. From behind, you would never suspect she was anything but a woman.

My eyes were popping out of their sockets, and my mouth was working, although no words were coming out. "What the fuck's going on here?" I finally managed to spout.

Chuck said, "Didn't I promise I would take you to a place where you could get the premier blowjob of a lifetime?"

Somewhat hesitantly I responded, "Yehhh," so it ended almost like a question: "Yehhh?"

Big Al leaned over. "Just wait and you won't be disappointed."

We sat drinking our beer and munching on the popcorn, talking small talk the way guys will do in a bar. Since it was my first visit to this particular place, and since I'd already been shocked by the fact that the waitress was a guy, I continued to look around, trying to size the place up. Well, it was definitely a weird place. Most of the clientele were guys, and I swear I saw a couple of 'em kissing at a table across the room. But, as I mentioned, it was pretty dark in there, and hard to see. A couple of girls had come into the bar, and they were really goodlookin' chicks. But something seemed not quite right about them, too. Maybe I was just spooked by the fact that the waitress was a drag queen. Anyway, one thing about this whole strange scene began to worry me a great deal. I discovered that whenever the waitress walked by our table, or whenever I gave one of the "girls" the once over, my penis would get rock-hard.

Finally, the waitress, Robin, came over to pick up our empty pitcher to get it refilled, and Al grabbed her arm. "Hey, Robin," he said, his voice a little slurred from all the beer we'd consumed, "You remember last week, the guy we told you about? And about the blowjob?"

Robin, who had eventually remembered Chuck and Al, brushed Al's hand off her somewhat muscular-looking arm, and said, "Yeh, I remember. And, guess what? A ten buck tip is still required."

Chuck, without hesitating, pulled three ten-dollar bills out of his wallet and set them on the table. "Great, baby. Here's a tip from each one of us."

Robin looked over in the direction of the door, where Teddy stood, silently watching our table. She held up her index finger, then held up three fingers. I noticed Teddy hesitate briefly before nodding his head, almost invisibly. Robin bent over the table, retrieved the bills, and started walking over to Teddy.

When she bent over, I couldn't help sneaking a peek at her cleavage (Cleavage? On a guy?) which was evident from the low cut of her waitress's uniform, a tight-fitting dress with short sleeves and a skirt which reached only about halfway from her waist to her knees and was flared out because of all the stiff crinolines under it.

I wondered how the hell a guy could have tits. It certainly appeared she had breasts, anyway, and my penis was by now painfully stiff, imprisoned in the confines of my jeans. I though I was going to blow my wad right there. What was happening to me?

Robin handed the three ten-dollar bills to Teddy. He nodded slightly in our direction, while Robin turned around and started across the dance floor. She disappeared through a door in the far wall, next to the blaring jukebox. Chuck arrived at the same door a few seconds after her, and he, too, disappeared inside the little room. They were gone for about ten minutes. Then, the door opened and Chuck stepped out, a big shiteating grin on his face. Robin was fooling with some loose strands of hair and adjusting her skirt. She stopped about midway across the dance floor and crooked her finger toward Al. He immediately jumped to his feet and nearly ran across the floor, making himself look like a big idiot. Robin was real cool, though. She just turned on her heels and disappeared through the door, leaving Al to pursue her, foolishly dashing through the door into the darkened room on the other side of it.

Another ten minutes passed, and the door opened again. My erection was really hurting by now, and my forehead was sweating. There was perspiration running down my sides from my underarms, too. My lips were quivering slightly, and I nervously chewed them. Robin stepped into the opening and crooked her finger at me. Rubbing my thighs, I stood up, knees shaking, and began to cross the floor to where she stood beckoning me. Suddenly, I realized Chuck and Al were walking with me, about a step-and-a-half behind me. I turned my head to see what was up, but Chuck just sort of motioned for me to keep walking. Finally, nervous as hell, knees knocking, I reached the door. Robin beckoned me through.

The door, as it turned out, opened into a small room that had a metal-frame cot, much like the one I slept on in my barracks. There was also a sink over in the corner, with a mirror hanging above it on the wall. Al was leaning against the sink, a small smile on his face. He winked at me. Robin, who, now that I was standing next to her I realized was an inch or two taller than me, pointed to the bed. Hands sweating, forehead wet with perspiration, I managed to cross the room to the bed and sit down facing her. By now, Chuck had crossed the room and was next to Al, leaning against the wall. Both men were watching Robin and me intently.

Robin immediately knelt down in front of me and reached for the zipper of my jeans. Involuntarily, I shifted my legs. She looked up at me, a grin on her face. "First time?" she asked.

Nervously, I gulped and tried to respond. No sound came out. All I could do was swallow hard and shake my head in the affirmative.

Robin kept grinning. "That's all right, Sugar. I'm not gonna hurt you. Just relax and enjoy yourself." I tried to smile back. I was nearly ready to start crying. Gently, she pulled my zipper down and reached her soft hand (soft hand? On a guy?) into the fly of my GI-issue boxer shorts. The instant her fingers touched my prick, it wilted. It just shriveled up into nothing. Robin looked puzzled. She looked over her shoulder at Chuck and Al. "What's the deal, you guys? I thought you said your little friend here wanted a blowjob."

Chuck said, "That's right, baby. We promised Stevie a premier blowjob. Ain't that right, Big Al?"

Al shook his head up and down, a big, foolish grin on his face.

My face was so red and hot I thought I was on fire with a fever. Robin seemed lost in thought. "Hmmm. Well, you guys paid for a blowjob. Maybe something can be arranged." She stood up, then sat down next to me. She took my hand in hers. Then, suddenly, she placed my hand between her legs and shoved it up her skirt. My eyes popped open like balloons inflating. My God! She was a guy! She had a huge penis and it was hard as hell! And nearly as hot as my burning face.

I tried to jerk my hand away, but Robin was stronger than I was. She wrapped my fingers around her pole. Then, she leaned over to whisper in my ear, as soft and gentle as an ocean breeze, "Get on your knees in front of me, Shorty, and don't let go of my pecker."

Chuck leaned forward and said, "Need any help, Stevie? Robin?"

Robin smiled up at him. "No, it's ok. Everything's cool." She looked into my wet eyes. "Right, Sugar?" Her hand gripped mine like a vise. Slowly, I slid off the bed. Now, I was on my knees. Robin spread her legs to accommodate me, so I could kneel between them. With her free hand, she lifted her skirt. Her penis was long and slender. She laid back on the bed, pulling me forward so I was now positioned over her groin. Gently, she placed her free hand on the back of my head, and nudged me towards her cock. The tension in the room had become unbearable. I don't think any of us were breathing at this point.

Slowly, my head descended until I was less than an inch away from the crown of her cock. I could see the opening of her dick. It looked as big as the entrance to a small cave. My lips were trembling. I held them as tightly closed as I could. Robin continued to increase the pressure on the back of my head. Suddenly, my lips touched the tip of her dick. I didn't dare open my mouth. I tried to push my head away, but Robin's strength and grip were too great for me. So, I pursed my lips and complained, "Mmmpphhh!! Nnggngg!"

Robin, in a soft, seductive voice, simply said, "C'mon, soldier boy, open wide for Robin."

"Mmmpphhh! Nnggnngg!"

Robin continued to press against the back of my head. Her penis was burning my tightly-sealed lips. Manfully, I struggled to pull my head away. Finally, after about a minute of this combat, Robin relaxed her grip. She looked up at Chuck and Al. "I guess he's not quite ready, fellows," she said. "Sorry."

Chuck and Al just shuffled their feet, each one a little chagrined by what they had done. Robin stood up and gently helped me to my feet. Angered by what had happened, I started to walk over to the door. Robin grabbed my arm to hold me back.

"Wait a second, pal," she said in her normal, masculine voice, "I don't want there to be any hard feelings between us. Ok? I mean, I certainly meant no harm."

I thought about her words for a few seconds, then said, "Well, all right, I guess. Sure. What the hell. No hard feelings." I stuck my right hand out to shake hers.

Gently, she took my hand. Then, suddenly, she brightened, and a big smile covered her face. "I know what!" she exclaimed. "I'm gonna give you a little present. Something for you to remember me by." And before I could say, "No, thanks," she had undone her garterbelt and was quickly removing it, her stockings still attached. She pulled off her shoes and finished taking her nylons off. Then, she bunched the whole package up in her hand, and placed it in mine.

"Whenever you take these out, think of me," she said. "Ok?"

Chuck and Al were grinning. I grinned too. "Oh, ok. Yeh. Sure." She stepped forward, and before I could turn away, placed a kiss on my cheek. Her lips were soft and warm and a little moist. She opened the door, and the three of us stepped through it. Quickly, we crossed the dance floor, past the rows of tables filled with people, and headed to the exit. Teddy still stood at the entrance, towering over everyone. "Leaving so soon?" he asked us.

Chuck said, "Yeh, Teddy, well, we gotta get back to the base."

Teddy replied, "Sorry to hear that." Then, he looked straight at me. "Come back again," he said. "Perhaps we can become better acquainted. Maybe even become good friends."

Chuck and Al both said something like, "Sure thing, Teddy." But I knew his remarks had been directed at me, not at them. I gave him a puzzled look as I walked through the doorway. He simply smiled and offered a half-bow.

I was so unnerved by my experience at Queen Mary's, I could barely comprehend what had occurred. All the way back to the base, I sat in the back seat, idly fingering the garterbelt and silky hose Robin had left attached to it, trying to make sense of my actions. I had come within a fraction of an inch of placing Robin's penis in my mouth. I had never before in my life even considered doing such a thing. Yet, I had been that (!) close to permitting her to slide her cock between my lips.

Chuck and Al were in the front seat, each drinking a can of beer, both engaged in quiet conversation as the brightly-lit clubs lining 14th Street passed by in a blur. Neither one mentioned what had taken place in the back room of Queen Mary's, and I was grateful for that. Every so often, one of them would direct a comment to me. But it soon became apparent to them that I wasn't interested in conversation, so gradually, they stopped trying to include me.

I just wanted to think. I needed to understand something about what had happened. I was still too shocked, I guess, to make sense of it, because no rational thought entered my mind. I sighed, deciding I'd have to try to figure it out later. For the rest of the ride home, I sat quietly in the back seat, Robin's gift soft between my fingers. When we got back to the barracks, I put it in my footlocker, hiding it between some uniform shirts. Then, I simply crawled into my bunk, exhausted from the night's activities, and immediately fell asleep.

The next day, trying to feel normal again, I guess, I called Sandy to invite her to a movie. Although not as enthusiastic-sounding as in the past, she nevertheless accepted my invitation, and we made plans to meet at the theater near her apartment building. At the appointed time, I arrived, and was surprised to find Sandy already waiting. I took her in my arms, and gave her a kiss, then held both her hands between us. We chatted amiably for a few minutes, then joined the short line waiting to buy tickets. We entered the theater, stopping at the concession stand to get some popcorn and candy, then stepped into the darkened viewing room. We let our eyes get adjusted to the darkness, then slowly made our way down the aisle to find two empty seats. We had no trouble locating two seats in a middle row, the theater being half- empty at such an early hour. We continued to chat as we waited for the movie to begin. Before long, I could feel my old sense of longing for Sandy returning. I looked at her sitting beside me, her slender frame, her pert little breasts perfectly proportioned to her diminutive size, her dancer's long, shapely legs. Quietly, casually, I let my arm drape over the back of her seat, without making contact. I didn't want to alarm her, or make her nervous in any way.

The movie began, and we stopped talking as we concentrated on the story unfolding before us in the darkened room. After awhile, I could tell my arm was beginning to fall asleep; it was starting to tingle, and my thumb and fingers felt numb. So I let it begin to slide over her shoulder and descend, ever so slowly, toward her breast. It seemed to take forever, and I had by then lost track of the story; but, eventually, my fingers arrived at her protuberance. Slowly I began to apply pressure, to allow my fingers to sink into the soft flesh just above the cup of her bra. She didn't react. Emboldened by what I took to be her silent approval, I slowly slid my fingers over her cup and pressed - gently! - against her whole breast. For a second, she allowed my hand to remain in place.

Then, suddenly, she stood straight up and turned to face me. Without any warning at all, she slapped me soundly on my cheek. Then, she stepped into the aisle and began to walk up to the rear exit. Stunned, I sat there for a moment. But, then, I gathered my wits about me, and raced up the aisle behind her. "Sandy," I half-whispered. "I don't understand. What's going on?"

She pushed through the exit, then walked purposefully toward the lobby. Over her shoulder she said, in an angry tone, "I told you before, I'm not interested in that sort of thing. Can't you just leave it alone? Can't we just be friends?"

I followed her out to the street, pleading with her to stop and talk.

Once out on the sidewalk, she finally did stop, long enough to turn to me and say, "Stevie, it's obvious you and I don't agree about what our relationship means. I think we'd better call it off right now." She turned on her heel, and began to walk toward her apartment building.

I followed a few steps behind her. "But, Sandy," I cried. "It's only natural that when a guy likes a girl the way I do you, he's going to want to touch her and get intimate. It's the normal thing between boys and girls."

She stopped and turned to face me. "I don't care if it's normal or not, you jerk. I don't like it. And I don't have to take it, especially from a little twerp like you. Now, get lost!" And she turned and fled.

I was so shocked by the vehemence of her words, I didn't give pursuit. I just stood there, hands in my pockets, tears in my eyes, and bade her a silent farewell. The bottom had just dropped out of my world. I was in free-fall.

I caught the bus back to Arlington, getting off at the entrance gate. I nearly missed my stop, I was so preoccupied with my misery. Sandy had really put me down hard. I couldn't get over her final insult - "You little twerp." Was that all I was? A twerp? Had she only strung me along all these months, even though deep down inside she regarded me as some sort of nobody? Was this how the guys in my barracks felt, too? I knew they liked to call me "little fella," and "little guy." But I had always thought they said this in an affectionate way. Maybe like Sandy what they really meant was that I was just a little nothing, a jerk deserving of nothing but their secret contempt.

Feeling pretty low, I entered the barracks. The place was empty. It was Saturday night, after all. Probably everyone was out having a good time. Except me, of course. I was so down, I thought I'd never climb out of the hole I was in. I decided to drown my sorrows in a couple of pitchers at the beer hall.

When I got there, the place was jammed and full of smoke and the odor of beer. I didn't see anyone I knew, so I just went up to the counter, got a pitcher and a mug, and found an empty seat in a corner of the room. As I sat there drinking, I kept thinking of my misery and pain. I was convinced that the whole world saw me only as a sawed-off, worthless jerk, a little nobody, a nothing. The more I drank, the more convinced I became of the truth of that opinion. I deserved what I got, I felt. I was filled with self-loathing. I drank a second pitcher, and most of a third. Then I got up to take a piss, and nearly passed out. I decided I'd had enough, and staggered out of the beer hall.

I could barely negotiate my way back to the barracks, I was so drunk. I kept tripping over bumps in the sidewalks and falling down. My pants were torn, my knees and elbows were scraped up, I could hardly see where I was going - I was a mess. I got back to my barracks, and found my way to my bunk, where I collapsed in a drunken heap. I lay there on the bed, watching the ceiling spin around like a top above me. Finally, I had to throw up, so I managed to stand and stagger into the latrine at the other end of the room. I was in such a pitiful state, I threw up all over myself before I got to a toilet. I managed at last to crawl over to a bowl and stick my head inside, where I let it hang until I could no longer feel my stomach heave. Then, I stripped off my smelly clothes and washed myself at the sink. I would have taken a shower, but I was afraid I might slip and fall in my current state of drunkenness. I stuck my pants and shirt in a toilet and flushed several times until I was satisfied all the vomit had been washed off. I did the same with my t-shirt and shorts. Then, dressed only in my brown Army-issue socks, I staggered back to my bunk, collapsing again in a heap. I lay there for a long while, thinking of Sandy and my thoroughly fucked up life. Then, slowly, thoughts of Robin began to enter my mind. Robin had been nothing at all like Sandy. She had been friendly and had seemed genuinely interested in being intimate with me.

I slid over to the end of my bunk and opened my foot locker. I fished around inside it until I found the garterbelt and stockings Robin had given me. I held them up to my nose, trying to recapture her scent. Then, I gently rubbed them, pretending that her legs were still encased inside the soft, silky hose. I wanted to feel her flesh inside them. But, of course, she wasn't here for me to do that. In my drunken state, I reasoned that, if my legs were in them, I could rub them and it would feel just like Robin, which would be just about as good as actually having her there beside me. Convinced of the solid logic of my thinking, I put my foot into one of the stockings. My God, that felt wonderful! No wonder women like to dress up and put this stuff on! This was fantastic!

Quickly, or as quickly as I could under the circumstances of my drunken state, I finished pulling that stocking on, then slid the other one on my other leg. I could feel my two legs rubbing together, and the feeling of nylon against nylon was electric. I had an erection that seemed to stretch all the way to the ceiling. I managed to sit up, the room beginning to spin again and threatening to cause me to fall over. I circled my waist with the garterbelt and clumsily managed to close the clasps. Then, I stood, weaving all over the place, and secured the garter straps to the stocking-tops. Then, I came. In huge, gushing spurts, I came, all over my bunk. I felt like I had died and gone to heaven. I was so overwhelmed by my climax, I simply fell onto my bed, not caring that I was lying in a puddle of cum. I lay there for a while, luxuriating in the sensuous silkiness of the stockings. After several minutes, while I rubbed my hand up and down my leg, gently scratching myself through the nylon, I was amazed to discover my penis was starting to stiffen again. Through my barely-focused eyes I watched, utterly fascinated, as my cock slowly rose off my groin and began to twitch and straighten out. But the beer and the post-climax cooldown overtook me at last, and I passed out on the bunk, my semi-erect penis gently swaying back and forth.

A flash of light, a hand smacking my bare bottom, a voice thundering in my ear. "Hey! Stevie! What the fuck are you doin', little guy? C'mon, wake up!" Laughter. Another flash of light. Where's the thunder? Is it raining? What - ? My eyes finally opened, slowly coming into focus. I looked above me. Chuck and Big Al's faces were staring down at me. Their grins were spread across their faces, and they were both laughing. Chuck tapped my chin with his hand. "Stevie! Stevie!" he said, "Get up, little fella. You want the rest of the guys to see you?"

"Huh?" I grunted. "See what?" I struggled to sit up, the room was spinning, my head felt like it had been split wide open by an axe. I looked down the length of my naked body. Oh, shit. Big Al was standing at the foot of my bunk, aiming a camera at my nylon-clad legs. He was leering at me with an evil grin on his face. The camera clicked, synchronized to the flash of light that momentarily blinded me. Then I heard Chuck's voice, "C'mon, Stevie, get that stuff off and get dressed before other people start coming in and find you."

I wanted to cry, I felt so embarrassed. And I was still too drunk to act rationally. But, my two buddies managed to get me unhooked from the garterbelt, and pulled the stockings off my legs. I opened my footlocker, stuffed the incriminating evidence down in the bottom, and pulled out a clean t-shirt and pair of shorts. After I put them on, I sat back down on the bunk, letting my head fall into my upraised hands. I groaned, feeling miserable, embarrassed, done for.

Chuck seemed sympathetic. He sat down beside me and said, "Boy, I'm glad we decided to come back early. I can only imagine what might have happened if some of the other guys had gotten here ahead of us."

"Yeh," chimed in Big Al, "some of those guys woulda beat the shit outta you. I know that for a fact. They hate queers, man."

I lifted my head to look at his leering face. "Queer? What?"

Big Al responded, "Hey, it's ok, man. You got nothing to worry about, as far as I'm concerned. I mean, we ain't gonna say nothing to anybody, are we, Chuck?"

I looked at Chuck, who now seemed to be thinking very hard about something. "Yeh, yeh, right," he said. He was rubbing his chin with his hand and staring hard at the floor. He turned to me, and said, "Uh, excuse me a minute, Stevie. I wanta talk to Al for a minute. We'll be right back. C'mon, Al."

Chuck stood up, and the two men walked to the other end of the room, disappearing into the latrine. I continued to sit on the bunk, nearly doubled over in shame over what had just occurred. My head really hurt. I was paralyzed, unable to think clearly. Several minutes later, my two buddies emerged from the latrine and walked back to where I sat dejectedly holding my head in my hands. Chuck stopped, but Al kept going, opening the door at my end of the barracks, and stepping out into the cool night.

"Where's Al going?" I asked Chuck.

"Oh, nowhere. He's just going to make a phone call."

We sat in silence for several minutes, neither one able to look at the other. I suspected that Chuck was as embarrassed for me as I was for myself. He didn't know what to say, but he was too good a friend to walk out on me, leaving me alone with my torment. After awhile, Big Al returned, closing the door softly behind him, turning to face us with a big grin on his face. He walked over to my bunk, and sat down beside me. I was now sandwiched in between my two closest friends. Chuck leaned forward and said to Al, "Well, what did he say?"

Al made a fist and thrust it out in front of him, sticking his thumb straight up as he did so. "He dug it!"

I looked first at Chuck, then at Al. "Who dug what? What're you two talking about?"

Al said, "C'mon, Stevie, we're gonna go for a little ride. We got some business to discuss with you."

I looked at Chuck. "What's going on, Chuck?" I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, waving his hands in front of him. "Nothin' for you to worry about, little fella. Let's get in the car, and we'll talk about it there."

I was still out of it, and, besides, they were much bigger than I. So, not knowing what else to do, I fell in between them, and we walked together out to Chuck's car. I got in the back seat while Chuck and Al took over the front. The car roared to life, and Chuck pulled slowly out of the parking lot, driving carefully through the alleyway and then through the gate. Once again, we were headed down Arlington Boulevard toward the bright lights of DC, visible off on the distant horizon. As usual, Chuck stopped at a 7-11, and Al went inside to buy a couple of sixpacks. He got back in the car, rifled through the glovebox looking for a "churchkey" can opener, and cracked open a beer. He reached over the seat and handed it to me. "Here ya go, little buddy," he said. "A little hair of the dog."

I took a large swallow of the cold beer, then said, "Ok, what're you two up to? Where are we going?"

My two friends exchanged glances. Finally, Al turned and leaned over the seat. "Well, Stevie," he began, "it's like this. We figured that your visit to Queen Mary's must have jarred something loose from your unconscious mind."

Chuck interrupted, "Yeh, Stevie, you know, like some sort of buried memory, or something psychological like that."

Big Al continued, "We figured that seeing that waitress triggered something in your brain that made you want to put them stockings and that garterbelt on."

Chuck interrupted again. "Or maybe it was when Robin put her dick against your mouth. Maybe that's what started it."

My fuzzy brain was beginning to clear. Maybe it was true. Maybe "a little hair of the dog" did bring you back to sobriety. I stared at the two guys in the front seat. I couldn't believe my ears. I took another large swallow of beer. Maybe if I got drunk again, this nightmare would disappear.

"What're you two talking about?" I asked.

"Well, you know, putting on those stockings and garterbelt, and then creaming all over yourself like that," said Chuck. "Why else would you do something like that, if you didn't have some sort of curiosity, or maybe even a predisposition to experiment like that?"

"I was drunk," I retorted. "I was feeling sorry for myself. Sandy broke up with me tonight. The deal with the stockings was just my drunkenness." I was trembling. What if they were right? Oh, shit. Perish the thought.

We drove for awhile in silence, until we got to 14th Street and headed uptown. I had a sense of grim foreboding about this trip. "Where are we going?" I asked. "Are we going back to Queen Mary's?"

Al said, "Yeh."

"Well, I'm not interested in going to Queen Mary's," I said. "That place has nothing at all for me. It's just a bunch of perverts, doing their pervert stuff. Why don't you pull over to the curb and let me out? I'll catch a bus back to the base."

Chuck, in a tone of voice that sounded sincerely sympathetic, said, "No can do, little buddy. Al called Teddy and told him what we'd found. He told Al to come over right away. He's expecting all three of us."

I took another large swallow, finishing the can. Al opened another one and handed it to me over the back seat. Suddenly, the car had grown hot and stuffy. I was sweating, and finding it difficult to breathe. I took a huge swallow of the beer.

"Why'd you call Teddy?" I asked. "What's he got to do with this?"

Al said, "Well, we figured it this way. Suppose it was true. Suppose you did have tendencies toward Robin's way of living. Until tonight, nobody knew, not even you. But then, there you were, sprawled out on your bunk, wearing only those stockings and garterbelt, rolling around in your own cum. What're we to think? We're not experts in this sort of thing. So that's what we figure. Let's get an expert's opinion. That's why we called Teddy."

My eyes filled with tears. "Aw, fellas. You can't do this to me. C'mon. It was just because I was drunk. I'm not like that. You know that. C'mon. Let's go home."

Chuck said, again seeming to be sincerely sympathetic, "No can do. I'd never forgive myself if I didn't give you this opportunity to learn about your deepest desires."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I wailed. "What deepest desires? My deepest desires right now are to go home, go to bed, sober up in the morning, and get on with my life. Now, let's quit fooling around and go home."

Instead of turning around, Chuck actually speeded up. Before long, we were turning right at U Street, and I could see Queen Mary's up ahead on the right. I began to tremble. What was happening to me? Chuck pulled over to the curb and cut the engine off. He and Al opened their doors and started to get out. Chuck looked in the back seat, where I sat frozen, determined not to move.

"Aw, Stevie," he said, "you don't want to be difficult about this. You know Al has pictures of you. And you know he'll just get a huge laugh out of showing them around to the other guys. You don't want that sort of humiliation, do you?"

"What choice do I have?" I responded. "Either that, or go inside Queen Mary's and be forced to do whatever their pervert imaginations dream up for me? What kind of friend are you, Chuck?"

"Hey, Stevie, it's like I said. For all you know, I might be doing you the biggest favor anyone's ever done you."

"Yeh, sure. Some favor."

Al leaned in the window. "Here comes Teddy. I guess your choices just dropped to none." He grinned at me, an evil, taunting grin. I continued to sit in stone-faced silence, trying not to look at either Chuck or Al. But, then, the rear door opened, and Teddy was suddenly climbing into the car to sit beside me. He said, in that precise English, his voice soft and gentle, "I did not expect to have the pleasure of your company again so soon, my friend. Come. Let us go inside and become better acquainted."

He loomed over me like some sort of huge monolith. Al was right. My choices were no longer available. I sighed in defeat, then followed Teddy out the rear door. The four of us crossed the sidewalk and entered the club. It was empty. I looked at my watch. It was 12:30. I couldn't believe this nightmare had taken place so quickly. It had only been six hours ago that Sandy had slapped me and stormed out of my life, hurling insults as she went.

Teddy turned to Chuck and Al. "What time is your friend's leave finished?"

Chuck said, "Oh, weekend passes are good until ten o'clock Sunday night."

Teddy placed his hand on Chuck's shoulder, turning him toward the door. "Fine, fine," he said. "Then if you do not hear from me before eight o'clock tomorrow evening, you can assume everything went well and our friend will return to the base on the bus. If I do call you, however, I shall expect you to pick him up right away. Will that plan present any difficulties for you?"

Chuck, stepping through the doorway, said, "No, not at all. We'll be available to come any time, if you need us." He took a slip of paper from his wallet, wrote down the number of the barracks payphone, and handed it to Teddy.

"Excellent," said Teddy, as he held the door for Chuck and Al. Just before it closed behind them, they both turned to me, waving and smiling. Chuck said, "See ya tomorrow, little guy." Then they were gone.

Teddy reached out and took my arm, turning me until I was facing the rear of the club. In the dim light cast by the red "EXIT" light, I could see a figure standing by the bar. As I focused my eyes, I assumed it must be Robin, since whoever it might have been was wearing a dress. After closing and locking the door, Teddy took my elbow again and guided me over to the person standing in the shadowy light. Indeed, it was Robin. Teddy stepped over to her and said, "Go see to the preparations." She nodded and turned away, heading toward the door of the small room next to the jukebox.

Teddy turned to me and said, "Let us wait here until Robin tells us she is ready." He looked deep into my eyes, and a small smile played on his mouth. I was really nervous, and my forehead felt sweaty and clammy. The beer I had drunk in Chuck's car was churning in my stomach. I was scared to death I might throw up.

Finally, the door opened and Robin, framed by the light in the tiny room, signaled us to come over. We entered the room. Robin had changed into a nightgown, one of those baby doll types which ended at her hips, just above her penis, which stood straight out from her groin in a huge erection. The nightgown was sheer, a soft shade of yellow, which covered her nipples and was held up by two thin spaghetti- straps. From the waist up, she looked very feminine.

Teddy said to her, "I want him well-prepared for me."

Robin smiled and nodded. Then Teddy turned to me and said, "Why don't you take off your clothes and get comfortable?" Although it sounded like he was asking a question, it was obvious I had no choice in the matter. Slowly, nervously, scared to death by the sheer size of him, I complied. When I was finished, Robin picked my clothes up from the floor, and disappeared through the door with them. I was nearly in tears, I was so frightened.

A couple of minutes later, Robin returned with a small shopping bag. Teddy said to Robin, "I shall come back later." He turned to me and smiled. Very quietly he left the room, softly closing the door behind him.

Robin stood looking at me, appraising me. She was trying to appear as friendly as she could, to alleviate my nervousness, perhaps, or maybe because she really was just trying to make friends with me. She handed me the bag. Then, she said, sweetly, in her soft baritone, "Put these on and let's see how you look."

Nervously, I took the bag and opened it. Inside was a nightgown just like hers, only it was white. There was also a lacy white garterbelt, and a pair of extremely sheer white stockings. Finally, there was a pair of white mules, with perhaps two-inch heels. As I removed these items from the bag, my lips began to tremble uncontrollably. My eyes filled with tears, and I nearly began to bawl. But, even though my fingers were also trembling, and I could hardly hold on to anything, I managed to pull the stockings on and cinch them to the garters, and I slipped the nightgown over my head, letting it drop softly over my shoulders. If I hadn't been so upset, I might actually have enjoyed the silky feel of the lingerie. But, my stomach was churning again, and I felt like I had to pee. I finished dressing by stepping into the mules. Interestingly, they fit.

Robin said, "You know, with the proper application of makeup and the right kind of hairstyle, you'll be very pretty. Guys will break down the door to get at you." She smiled broadly. She reached out with her hand and took mine. She stepped over to the cot and sat down on the edge, pulling me down beside her. For someone so decidedly feminine, she was surprisingly strong. I could feel my resistance beginning to fade away.

"Teddy wants to see if you'll fit in with us," she said, "so that's why we're doing this - oh, what's a good way to put it? - this evaluation. Your friends thought you might be a perfect match. And I must say, as I look at you, I'm inclined to agree with them."

Suddenly, she was very seriously looking me over. "I think we can be great friends, once we get over our initial shyness with each other. Do you think so?"

I gulped. I couldn't think of anything to say. I mumbled something like, "Oh, umm, I guess, I, oh, hmmm..."

She smiled at me, then put her hand on my forehead, brushing my sweaty hair back. "Well, why not give it a try? We've got nothing to lose, certainly, and a friendship to gain."

She took both my hands in hers. I felt like my entire body was trembling. She held my hands, obviously trying to calm me. "Now, I don't want you to be nervous. It's not like you're being tested. You don't need to worry that you might fail or something. Just relax. Of course, I hope that you'll enjoy yourself. Think of this as an adventure of discovery. Ok?"

My eyes were like round saucers. "Well," she said, "it was pretty obvious from earlier this evening that you've never had a blowjob. Right?"

In spite of my trembling, I managed to nod my head.

"And you've never given one, either. Correct?"

My saucer-eyes were bright with tears. I nodded my head again.

"So, we thought you might want to, um, give it a try with me. To see how it'll go. Ok?"

The tears were falling out of the saucers and cascading down my cheeks. "Oh, dear," said Robin. "This will never do. Here. Let me get some tissues to wipe those tears away. Then, we'll get started."

She stood up and crossed the room to the sink. On a shelf above it was a box of tissues. She took a few out of the box, then crossed the room back to where I sat on the bed. She stopped in front of me, and bent over to wipe my cheeks with the tissues. Then she straightened up. Her penis was about six inches away from my face. It wasn't standing straight out from her anymore; but, it was semi-rigid. And long. And thick. She put her hand on top of my head and gently began to apply pressure to it, moving me slowly but inevitably toward the head of her cock, which was beginning to deepen its pinkish hue to a bright red. With her other hand, she gently lifted her penis until it was pointed straight at me. I could see the little hole in the tip of it beginning to expand, like a camera's shutter opening. My throat felt constricted, my mouth felt dry, and my stomach was beginning to churn again. I wanted to die.

I could hear Robin above me half-whisper, "C'mon, Sugar, open up. It won't hurt. Believe me." Once again, like several weeks ago, I could feel the head of her cock pressing against my lips. Finally, knowing resistance was no longer possible, I surrendered, and with a groan of defeat, I opened my lips. Immediately, her penis entered my mouth. It was incredibly warm and velvety-soft. Some fluid was dripping out of the hole in the tip, and I could feel it sort of slide onto my tongue. Robin said, "Lick it, Sweet Baby; love it."

Timidly, I pulled my tongue back and licked the head as it pushed past my teeth. "Roll your tongue around the whole head, Sweetness," Robin said. I let my tongue slide around the head as she instructed. "Now, slide your tongue all the way down to the end and keep licking around. Like you're licking a popsicle." I got her drift and began licking up and down her expanding member.

She began to draw it back out of my mouth, then, in a fucking motion, shoved it back in, but slowly and gently. I continued to lick as the rod slid back and forth. "Now, form a vacuum and suck on it," I could hear Robin say. I pulled my cheeks in tight, until I could feel her penis was held snugly in my mouth. Then, I sucked it in as far as I could. Without breaking her rhythm, she sat down on the bed, pulling me around until I was on my knees, bent over her groin, with her penis standing straight up like a pole. I let my mouth slide down her cock until my nose was being tickled by her pubic hair. Suddenly, I realized two things: I was relaxing, and I was responding.

Robin must have sensed it, too, because she quit talking and just continued fucking my face. I couldn't believe my reaction to what she was doing to me. I could feel myself getting hotter and hotter, and really becoming actively involved. At some point, I found my hands had reached under Robin and were clutching her asscheeks, pulling her cock up, deeper into my eager mouth. She continued to fuck away at me, increasing the tempo as she became more excited. Both of her hands now held my head, squeezing it between them, as she began to breathe in ragged, noisy gasps. I could tell she was about to come, and I became frightened again, wondering what it would be like to have a mouthful of sperm. Then, just as she erupted in my mouth, and I was hit with an explosion of cum, I felt a hand on my ass and something cold and slimy enter my asshole. Before I could react to this invasion of my anus, I felt this huge presence enter my rectum and push in, filling me up completely, causing me almost to pee. Oh, fucking shit, I was being screwed in the ass!

But I was so far gone there was nothing I could do to protect myself from the penis now lodged deep within my bowels. I was concentrating all my effort on swallowing the huge blobs of cum being spat into my mouth by Robin's pecker. Another realization: I was enjoying this! And her cum tasted great! What the fuck was happening here?

She continued to hold my head impaled on her dick, even as it slowly began to soften. In response, I continued to lick it, trying to recover every drop of her chowdery sperm. In the meantime, the prick in my ass had begun to fuck me in earnest, and I became increasingly aware of the sensations it was causing. It was clearly uncomfortable, but it didn't hurt. The only thing I had ever experienced to compare it to was the finger the medical technician had inserted in my butt during the prostate exam of my pre-enlistment physical. All of us enlistees and draftees had joked about being cornholed by the medics; but, I must say that was nothing - nothing! - compared to what was happening to me now. Suddenly, I heard Teddy's soft voice behind me: "Relax now, let yourself enjoy this."

Since my mouth was still wrapped around Robin's penis, I was unable to respond. I did, however, attempt to relax my sphincter muscles, though in my nervous state, this was not an easy thing to do. Teddy gently pushed his penis deeper into me, then just as gently pulled it back, until I could feel only the head just inside the entrance of my asshole. But then the relentless pressure of his push began again, and again I was filled to overflowing with his massive prick. He began to increase the pace, pulling and pushing with more energy on each stroke. As my prostate continued to be battered by the relentless momentum of his fucking, I felt my own penis begin to stiffen and thicken. My hands were still clutching Robin's ass and my mouth was still impaled on her cock. As my penis grew longer, straighter, harder, I found myself beginning to respond to Teddy. I began to fuck him back. Before long, we were a frenzy of two sweating, shoving bodies. I could hear him groaning above me, and I could hear myself groaning as well. My eyes were filling with tears again, as my brain began singing, "So good, so good, so good," over and over in time to the pounding of Teddy's cock. As he came, my own cock erupted and I sent a shower of sperm out over the sheet beneath me, between Robin's spread legs. Teddy gasped and poured his hot, abundant seed into my guts.

By now, I was both laughing and crying, kissing and licking Robin's cock, wiggling my ass in an effort to hold Teddy's dick inside me. Never had I experienced anything like this! I thought I was in heaven. I wondered why I'd waited so long for this glorious moment.

Slowly, Teddy withdrew his penis from my ass, and I let myself sink down onto the bed, lying between Robin's legs, her cock still embedded in my mouth. I wanted to keep it there forever. But, slowly, she lifted me off her, and slid out from under me. My face sank into the mattress. I was crying, in joy, in shame, in amazement, in sorrow. You name it. It didn't matter how many different emotions surged through my brain. I was crying just because I was crying. Robin gently lifted me so I was sitting up. She began to dab at my eyes and my cheeks with a tissue. As my vision cleared, I realized that Teddy was standing directly in front of me, his now-softened penis a few inches away from my mouth, just as Robin's had been at the outset of this episode. I was thoroughly amazed; soft, Teddy's cock was bigger than mine erect. Gently, he touched my cheek with his hand, and said, "It is the etiquette of this house, my small friend, that when I am finished you must clean me off." Tearfully, I placed my mouth on his organ. I could taste the residue of his fuck: cum, shit, petroleum jelly. I didn't care anymore. If this was what he desired, I was only too glad to do it for him. I began to lick him clean. As I worked on his gigantic member, I heard him say to Robin, "She's lovely, Robin, my dear. I know Her Majesty will be greatly pleased. What shall we name her?"

Robin said, "I like Fanny. Fanny Gaye. Then we can be sisters. Robin and Fanny Gaye."

(Later on I asked Robin how she had come up with a name like Fanny for me.

"Easy," she said, "My boy name was Robert. When I came out, I called myself Roberta, and Bobbie for short. Some of my friends called me Robbie, instead, and from there it was just a short hop to Robin."

"Ok," I said, "But how does that explain Fanny?"

"Simple. Your boy name is Steve. Your girl name would probably be Stephanie. Steph-fanny. Get it?"

I loved my new name.)

I continued to clean Teddy's dick. Finally, he was done with me, and he gently pushed my head away. I was still nervous and shy with them both, so I sat on the edge of the bed, my head bowed, looking at my lap, my hands resting uselessly at my sides.

Robin put her arm around my shoulder, pulling my head into her chest. "Oh, yes, Fanny, we're going to be great friends. Sisters. I've never had a sister."

Although I couldn't see Teddy's face, since my own was buried in Robin's chest, I could tell from the tone of his voice he was smiling, clearly quite pleased with the way things had gone. "I think that's wonderful, Robin. A good friend for me, a sister for you, a subject for Her Majesty, Queen Mary. It's been a most pleasant evening, I think." He reached out and touched the top of my head, softly rubbing it.

Robin stood up and, taking my hands in hers, pulled me to my feet. "C'mon, Fanny," she said. "Let's go get cleaned up and I'll show you our room." She opened the door, and, still holding my hand, led me through the door marked "EXIT." There was a short hallway leading to a door to the outside rear of the building. About halfway down the hall was another door. This door opened to a stairway leading to an apartment above the club. I guessed that was where Robin's room was. She led me up the stairs, then quietly down the hall past a few other doors, until we stood before one at the furthest end of the hall. She opened it and we entered.

The room was small but nicely furnished. Robin really did have feminine longings. She had painted the walls a soft pink. The one window was framed by a delicate, white lace curtain. She had a small vanity with a mirror attached to it. The vanity was covered by a slipcover of the same shade of pink as the wall, and fringed with white lace. The slipcover was held in place by a rectangular glass top. Cosmetics and other items were carefully arranged on the glass. There was a chair with a pink seat cushion and a low back placed in front of the vanity, the only place to sit except for the double bed. In one corner was a bureau covered by a white lace doily. Her bed was covered by a pink comforter. And on the floor was a white rug with a pile so deep it hid your toes. The room was so feminine, it was almost a parody of femininity. She turned to me and whispered - I don't know why she whispered - "This is our room. Like it?"

I was stupefied. After living in a barracks for the past sixteen weeks, as I had, this room was unbelievably soft and plush. I was overwhelmed. I didn't know what to say. Robin was obviously pleased with it. To keep from hurting her feelings more than any other reason, I nodded and whispered back, "It sure is pretty."

She smiled broadly, then said, "C'mon. Let's get these sweaty things off and get cleaned up."

We undressed quickly. Robin took my hand again, and led me out into the hall. Directly opposite from her room was a door which, as it turned out, opened into a bathroom. We crossed the hall and entered it. The bathroom was small, but we were both able to move about fairly easily without feeling too cramped. Robin turned on the shower, and climbed in. She signaled me to get in with her. We both stood under the misty spray, quietly letting the water run over and cleanse us. Robin had a washcloth in one hand and a bar of soap in the other. She lathered up the washcloth and began soaping me with it. She rubbed the soap into me as though she were giving me a massage. It was wonderful. I closed my eyes and let myself luxuriate under her ministrations. Soon - too soon! - she was done. She handed me the soap and washcloth, and now it was my turn to do her. Having never bathed another person before, I was at first awkward. But, soon, I was enjoying myself. I carefully scrubbed every part of her, even the inside of the crack of her ass. Her arms gently rested on my shoulders, and I felt soothed by her gentle embrace. When I was done, she pulled me deeper into her hug, and kissed me on the lips. It wasn't a kiss designed to arouse my passion. It was more a kiss of loving friendship, a sisterly sort of kiss. I began to cry.

She broke the kiss and released me from her arms. Carefully, she stepped out of the tub, but indicated I was to remain. She opened the little cupboard beneath her sink, and pulled out a razor and some shaving cream. "You'll love the feeling of your stockings much more after you've shaved your legs," she said. Then, she soaped my legs and began to remove all the hair. I was too stunned to protest. But, in the back of my mind, I wondered how I was going to conceal this from the guys back at the barracks. At the moment, I was so overwhelmed by Robin, and by my recent experience, to think too clearly about my situation. I just let her enjoy herself.

When she'd finished my legs, she shaved my underarms. After she finished shaving me, I was allowed to get out of the tub, to stand in the middle of the bathroom, where she gently toweled me dry with a big, fluffy pink towel. After drying me off, she turned back to the cupboard and pulled out a container of baby powder, which she proceeded to rub all over my legs, my groin, my chest, my underarms. She even rubbed some in the crack of my ass. It felt wonderful.

We tiptoed silently back across the hall to Robin's room. Once inside, she took my hand and led me over to the bureau. She opened a drawer. Inside it were several nightgowns of the type we had worn downstairs. "You can wear one of these to bed," she said.

"What about the one I was wearing downstairs?" I asked.

"Silly," she giggled. A baritone giggle. "White's for virgins. You aren't one of those anymore."

I smiled back at her. "I guess not," I said. "Well, I'll wear this green one, then." She took it out and handed it to me. It was the same design as the white babydoll I had worn before. Only this nighty was a soft green, and so sheer the weave was nearly invisible. It was like being surrounded by a green-colored cloud. Robin opened another drawer and pulled out a green garterbelt and a pair of stockings as green and as sheer as the nighty.

"Most girls don't wear stockings to bed," she said. "But, this is how Teddy likes us to look. So, go ahead. Put them on."

I sat down on the bed, and began pulling the stockings up my legs. The soft, luxurious feel of them as they slid up my denuded legs caused my penis to twitch and begin to stiffen. What an incredible feeling! The soft stockings, the silky nightgown. Never before had I ever experienced anything quite like this. But, I felt at home wearing these frilly clothes. I felt feminine, even though I was a long way from being it. While I was putting on my stockings, Robin was putting on her own nighty and stockings. She was wearing a light purple shade. Since she had on fingernail and toenail polish, and a light application of lipstick, she really did look feminine. She sat down at the vanity table and began removing her bobby pins from her hair, letting it cascade down her back, until it stopped midway to her bottom. She picked up a brush and began pulling at her hair, stroking it until it gleamed. She was actually beautiful. She looked at me in the mirror, and said, "Climb into bed, Sugar, I'll be right there."

I laid down in the bed and watched Robin finish brushing her hair. Satisfied at last, she put the brush down and crossed the floor to join me. She lay down beside me, her face inches from mine, and gently ran her hand over my body. She was quiet for a few moments, just smiling and rubbing me. I felt so - how can I say this? - loved, and protected. I was warm both inside and out. I smiled back at her. Her eyes began to film over with tears. She whispered, "I've never had a friend, a real friend, anyway. I've been pretty much alone most of my life. It's the one part of being a boy-girl I find hardest to deal with." She was quiet again. Then, she said, "But, now I have you. Now I have a friend. You're the nicest thing that's ever happened to me."

My eyes were misting over, too, and we lay like that for a long time, our arms around each other, crying and smiling, until at last we both drifted off to sleep.

Sometime later, I don't know how much later, except that it was still dark out, I felt myself being shaken. I opened my eyes. Robin was asleep, her arm draped over my back, her hand resting against my tummy. I looked up and saw Teddy leaning over the bed. He gestured with his finger, and whispered, "Come with me."

Carefully, I moved Robin's arm so as not to awaken her. Then, I slid over to the side of the bed, silently standing up and moving toward the door to follow Teddy. He held his hand out to stop me, and pointed at my feet. At first, I didn't understand what he meant. Then, I realized, of course, he wanted me to put on my mules. I reached under the bed and retrieved them, quietly slipping them on, and tiptoed out the door behind Teddy.

I followed him down the hall to the other end, where his room was located. He opened his door and beckoned me inside. His room was dark, except for a dim night light which was plugged into an outlet near the door. But I could tell it was a considerably larger room than the one Robin and I shared. He had a private bathroom, which he entered through a door in his room. He indicated that I was to stand over next to his bed. I moved to the foot of the bed, and watched as he lay down on it. His massive cock was resting on his taut, muscular belly. Even in repose, it was larger than mine erect. It made me nervous to think that something that huge had been shoved into my ass.

I stood there, looking down at him, for a long moment. Then, he said, "I want you to prepare me to enter you."

Hesitantly, I climbed onto the bed, carefully separating his legs so I could crawl in between them. Once I was in position, I reached out with my hand to take hold of his penis. Then, slowly, carefully, I bent over and began licking the crown, making a circular sweep of the entire head. I opened my mouth and slowly took him into it, continuing to lick around his rod as I did so. Once I had about three or four inches of him inside my mouth, I closed my lips tight and pulled up, sliding his dick slowly back out. Before I released the head, however, I plunged my face forward, filling my mouth with even more of his wonderful cock. He groaned. I continued pulling and pushing, my tongue still swabbing him in a circular motion. I could feel the temperature of his penis rising, and the skin stretching tighter and tighter. I bobbed my head up and down the length of his dick, or at least as much of it as I could fit in my mouth. Finally, he placed his hands on either side of my head and gently lifted me off him.

"Now, straddle me," he said.

I sat astride his middle, his huge erection pushed against my groin, rubbing against my own thickening penis. He took my hand and put a container in it. I looked, and saw it was a jar of petroleum jelly. After what had occurred earlier tonight, I knew exactly what to do with it. I rubbed it all over my finger, and shoved it in my ass, repeating that action several times, until I felt certain I was well lubricated and ready to receive Teddy's cock.

"Put me inside you," he commanded.

I lifted myself up so that I was directly over his erection. I took it in one hand and placed my other hand on his chest so I wouldn't lose my balance. Then, slowly I lowered myself down onto his cock. As it began to push into my asshole, I became afraid, wondering if it would hurt like it had the first time. So, I was very careful and slow in feeding his dick into me. Once again I had a full-up feeling, but the pain was gone. Once my ass touched his tummy, I knew he was in me to the hilt. I rested for a moment, allowing myself to get used to the feeling of being plugged up like this.

"Start fucking," growled Teddy. I began a rhythm of lifting myself up, then sitting back down. I could feel my own penis growing as I fucked up and down on Teddy's massive organ. What a strange feeling! I wondered if I would ever become totally accustomed to this feeling of fullness. Suddenly, Teddy reached up with his huge hands and grabbed the back of my neck. He pulled me down so that my face was in front of his. "Kiss me," he said. I placed my lips against his, and immediately his tongue entered my mouth. My penis twitched and jumped, and I thought I was going to shoot all over him. But somehow Teddy sensed my crisis, and quickly grabbed my cock with his hand, squeezing it until I thought he would rip it off completely. With my mouth pressed to his, I was unable to cry out; but, I did groan. He continued fucking my mouth with his tongue, matching it to the rhythm of his prick sliding in and out of my asshole. I concentrated on his effort, and soon realized my erection had evaporated. It didn't matter. My pleasure was in pleasuring Teddy. I knew this without being told.

Teddy pulled his tongue out of my mouth and his lips away from mine. He looked up at me and said, "Now, I want you to relax, but don't stop fucking. I'm going to roll you over on your back." I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed my thighs against his. Suddenly, we were tumbling over, his arms holding me against him, his hands gripping my asscheeks. Now I was on my back beneath his full weight. I was being fucked like a woman. And then the oddest thing happened. I could feel his masculine strength as his body pressed me into the mattress. I could feel the protective warmth of his arms wrapped around me. I could feel the mastery of this giant of a man as his dick pounded away in my rectum. And suddenly I knew what it was to be a woman being made love to by a man. I could simply surrender my will to him, I could let myself be taken in love, I could empty myself of all resistance and be swept away by his superior strength. I could feel his orgasm pouring its sweet liquid into my interior. And I felt so loved, so protected, that I began to weep in joyful abandon, kissing his neck, his chest, whatever part of him my lips could find as he pressed himself against me and emptied himself into me.

After he finished, we lay there in silence, except for my sniffling as I tried to control my tears. Finally softened, his penis slid slowly out of my ass. Then, he rolled off of me and lay on his side looking deep into my eyes. Softly, he kissed me on the lips, and said, "Remember the etiquette of the house, little friend. When you are finished, you may return to your room."

I sat up and leaned over him, taking his wilted member into my mouth. Once again, I could taste his sperm, my shit, the greasy jelly. I didn't care. I loved every sensation I had experienced with this wonderful man. Lovingly, I licked him clean, even blowing softly on him to dry him off. I planted a tender kiss on the head of his dick, then silently got off the bed, left the room, and tiptoed down the hall to the room I now shared with Robin.

The sun was streaming through the white lace curtain, bathing the room in a warm sunrise glow. Robin stretched and yawned, loud enough to wake me up. As I opened my eyes, I saw her beside me, leaning on her elbow, a grin covering her face. "Hi, sister!" she gushed in her soft baritone. She leaned forward and kissed my lips. She looked out the window. "What a glorious day it's going to be! I can't wait to get started."

She reached her arm behind me, and smacked me on the bare bottom. "C'mon, lazybones!" she laughed, "Let's rise and shine!"

I sat up reluctantly. The events of the night before had left me completely exhausted. I would much rather have gone back to sleep. But Robin, wide awake now, and full of enthusiasm, wouldn't let me. She took my hands, pulling me off the bed. "Hurry up, Fanny," she said, "we've got a busy day ahead of us. You're going to meet Her Majesty, Queen Mary, herself. Oh, I'm so excited. I just know she's going to love you. Then for sure we'll be sisters."

I had no idea what Robin was talking about. It didn't matter, really. I figured I would find out soon enough what she meant. I followed her across the hall into the bathroom. She showed me how I was supposed to sit to pee - "How many girls do you know who stand up when they use the toilet?" - and I followed her lead. We took another shower, and it was fun sharing the stall with her. Her skin was so soft I enjoyed brushing against her, touching her wherever I could. She was very businesslike this time, though. We finished our shower quickly, then carefully shaved our faces. She gave my legs another once-over with the razor, just to be sure they were really smooth.

We crossed the hall back to our room. At her insistence, I began to think of her room as ours. "We're sisters," she reminded me. "Sisters share everything."

She sat down in the chair at her vanity table and turned to me. "Now, Fanny, I want you to watch very closely how I make myself up. You may as well begin to learn how to do this for yourself right away. Of course, I'll help you at first. But the sooner you can do this for yourself, the sooner you'll begin to feel like a girl."

I sat on the edge of the bed and watched her as first she touched up her toenail and fingernail polish, then began to work on her face. She'd been doing this for a long time, and was well-practiced in the art of making up her face to bring out all its hidden, feminine beauty. When she was finally finished, she really was beautiful. Of course, I was smitten, so my judgement was biased.

She sat me down in the chair and knelt on the floor beside me. "First, let's do our nails. Now, obviously, if you want them to look real feminine, you'll have to get a manicure and a pedicure. Maybe next week we'll have time for that. But, today I just want you to feel what it's like to have polish on your nails. Ok?"

I was completely under her spell. "Sure," I said. "Show me how to do it."

She picked up my foot and rested it in her crotch. Unbelievably, her penis did not begin to grow stiff. I know mine would have under similar circumstances. But my foot was warm and comfortable, resting against her groin like that. With a frown of intense concentration, she began to paint my nails, instructing me in the ways of being carefully meticulous in the application of polish. When she had finished that foot, she placed the jar and brush on the vanity. "Your turn," she said, "Let's see what you've learned."

I was a little clumsy with the toes I had to do, but for the most part, I did all right for a beginner. At least Robin was pleased. "You did fine, Fanny. Now, do your fingernails the same way. It should be easier since you don't have to get all scrunched up to do them." I laughed delightedly at her joyful chatter, carefully applying the polish to my fingernails. We continued to chat while she put makeup on me, instructing me in the fine points of foundation, rouge, eyeliner, lipstick and whatever else I might need to know about making myself glamorous. When we were done, she looked into my eyes, suddenly serious, and said, "Gee, Fanny, you really are a lovely girl. Come see yourself in the mirror."

With my hair in a GI brush cut, it was hard for me to agree with Robin; however, I could see that my face did indeed have a feminine softness to it, curved rather than angular. I wondered what difference a wig would make. Robin didn't keep me in suspense for long. She got up and went over to the closet, taking down a box from the shelf above the hanger rod. Inside the box was a wig, sitting on a wig form. It was obviously an expensive wig; it looked positively real. Robin told me she had worn this until her own hair had grown in. Now, I could wear it. "Sisters share everything," was her explanation. Carefully, she placed it on my head, showing me how it was held in place by strategically located hairpins. This time when I looked in the mirror, I saw a girl looking back. I was amazed, and a little frightened.

Robin, on the other hand, was delighted. She pulled me out of the chair, saying, "C'mon, let's finish dressing. We've got a breakfast to prepare." She went over to the bureau and opened the bottom drawer. She turned to show me what she had retrieved. In each hand she held what appeared to be a corset. She held them up for me to examine. "I am so excited. Ever since I began dressing, I have wanted to wear a corset like this. It's got boned stays so it'll really hold you in. And it's got laces, so you can trim your waist to a mere wisp of nothing. It's so feminine, I nearly climax just looking at it."

I said, "Well, why haven't you worn it before?"

"Silly," she replied. "I can't tie the laces by myself. But, now that I have you, at long last my dream will come true. And, lucky, lucky you. I have two corsets. So you get to wear one, too." She handed me one of the garments. It was made of a sort-of elasticized rubber, covered with a silky soft material and lacy edges, with stiff, ridged vertical stays arranged at intervals around it. In the back was a row of laces designed to hold the garment tightly to the wearer's body. There were six garter straps, three for each leg. It appeared that, once in place, it would cover the wearer's middle, from the hips to just below the breasts. I wondered what it would feel like to wear it.

While I was examining it, Robin was putting on a pair of black fishnet stockings. "When we're working in the club," she explained, "these are the stockings we always wear. When we're in our apartment, we can wear whatever we please." She tossed me a pair she had gotten out of the bureau drawer. "Anyway, you might want to put these on and pull them up over your knees, at least. Once you're laced into that corset, it's going to be almost impossible for you to bend."

I followed her advice, and pulled the stockings up my legs. The fishnet stockings had a strange, erotic feel, probably because of their design. I felt covered up and naked at the same time. I was really enjoying all these new sensations. Robin stepped behind me and wrapped the corset around my middle. "Now, until I get started on your laces, I want you to hold the corset tight against your tummy." She tightened the laces at the bottom of the garment, continuing up to the top. Once she'd reached that point, I could feel I was snugly encased inside it. But, she was only beginning. She now went back to each row of lace-holes, and snugged the laces even more. Then, she went back to the bottom and repeated the entire procedure. I felt like my insides were being squeezed into a blob in the center of my body. I felt so constricted I wouldn't be able to breathe. The stays really were rigid. There was no way I could bend my back. Finally, after a couple more trips up and down my back to snug the laces, she tied them tightly at the top and tucked them out of the way. I struggled to reach the tops of my stockings, barely managing to grip them. Using the mirror, I finally was able to snap them onto the garters. My face was beet-red from the exertion.

Robin smiled broadly. "You look wonderful," she gushed. "Now, it's my turn." I repeated the same procedure she had performed on me, tightening the laces until I thought I would cut her in two. But, she was in heaven, her dream had come true. She urged me to make it even tighter, apparently loving the severe constriction.

Now I knew where Robin's cleavage came from. With the foundation squeezing as tightly as it did, there had to be someplace for the excess skin to go. Robin had carefully pushed the skin of her chest up, so it now hung over the top of the corset, forming two small pseudo-breasts. She had done the same for me. As we stood together looking at ourselves in the mirror, she giggled and said, "So, Fanny, how do you like having tits?"

I was amazed at the effect she had produced. She sighed, "Ah, but I wish they were real. Well, a girl can dream, can't she?" She went over to the closet and pulled down two dresses of the style she wore waitressing in the club. She handed one to me. "Let's see if it fits." She held it over my head and let it fall over my shoulders, showing me how to pull it down and fit it to my waist and hips. Then she showed me how to operate the zipper in the back. The dress fit perfectly over the corset. It rested on my hips, flaring out a little and reaching a point about midway to my knees.

I was wearing no underpants. Robin explained, "Both Teddy and Her Majesty prefer we not wear panties. It's a sign of our availability to them and to the customers in the club." Maybe so, I thought; but, I felt exposed and vulnerable without underwear. It was as though I was defenseless. Anyone could rub my bare ass, or grab my balls. It was an odd, somewhat scary feeling.

Robin stepped into her black, patent leather pumps with the three- inch heels that she wore in the club. She told me there was another pair in the closet that should fit me, since her mules had fit. I pushed them out with my foot, then stepped into them. At first, I nearly tripped. My feet felt like they were perpendicular to the floor. The only way I could walk was to take short, mincing steps, almost on tiptoe. Robin said, "You look adorable. You'll get the hang of the shoes in no time, believe me." She stepped over and gave me a little hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Come on, sister-friend. Let's go get breakfast ready."

We quietly walked down the long hall until we came to a door about halfway between our room and Teddy's. Robin opened the door and led me inside to a spacious, expensively furnished room. I could see a large kitchen beyond, an airy room with two large windows letting the bright sunshine in. This apartment was obviously for the use of everyone in the household. Robin said, "Isn't this room delightful?" I nodded in agreement. She went on, "I wish we could use it. But it's only for Teddy and Her Majesty to use. We get the run of the kitchen, though. Come on, I'll take you back there. You'll just love it."

The kitchen was spacious, and even held a large table which could easily seat up to six people, though there were only four chairs pushed against it. In the center of the room was a bar-counter. At one end, two bar stools stood at the empty counter. At the other end of the counter was a range with four burners. A range hood made of some sort of copper-colored metal was positioned above the burners, and evidently vented up into the attic, or roof, or whatever lay above the ceiling. There were pantries and cupboards all around the room, except where the refrigerator, the dishwasher, and a small washer-drier unit took up the wall space. Beneath the windows was a large sink and drain counter. The cupboards were made of blond oak, and the walls which were visible were painted white. It was a light, airy, relaxed environment. Robin whispered, as though afraid to disturb the sunny silence, "I just love this room. I could spend all my time in here." She went over to a narrow closet and pulled down two aprons, starched white cotton trimmed in a lace-edge. We put them on.

"But why are we not allowed to use the living room?" I asked her.

"Her Majesty uses that room," she replied. "We are permitted in her presence only by invitation, and then generally only to serve her. I don't mind. When I'm not working, I much prefer to be in our room, anyway. I feel comfortable and free in there in a way I never could in here."

Robin began puttering around, pulling pans out of cupboards, and food out of the refrigerator. She started a pot of coffee going in a drip-coffeemaker. "We're going to have pancakes and eggs this morning," she said. "And while we work, I'll fill you in on what Teddy called the 'etiquette' of the household. You just pull up a stool and help me make the fruit cups."

She had gotten some fruit out of the refrigerator, apples, oranges, and grapes, and had washed them under the faucet in the sink. My task was now to prepare them in an attractive way in dessert cups. While we worked, me doing the fruit cups, Robin doing the pancake mix, she explained how Her Majesty's household worked.

"Teddy is the manager and bouncer of the club. He is also Her Majesty's younger brother. He is free to do as he pleases. He is also free to use you and me sexually whenever he desires. But, we never sleep in his bed. When he's finished with us, we come back to our own room. He has two standing policies which we must always obey. First, we may never, ever have an erection in his presence. Our job is to give him pleasure, not ourselves. So, no hardons around Teddy. Second, when he is done with us, we must clean his penis with our mouths. You have already been told about that. Down in the club, our relationship with Teddy is this: if a customer wishes to purchase our services, Teddy must first approve. We signal him that a customer has given us a tip, one raised finger for a ten-dollar tip - that's a blowjob - two raised fingers for a twenty-dollar tip, which is a fuck. Teddy will nod or point to signify approval. It's not hard to figure out if it's ok with him. If he signals ok, we take the tip-money to him before we take care of the customer. We never keep money on us. Never. If I go shopping, I am escorted by Teddy, or, more likely, by Samuel the bartender, who, by the way, is not officially part of the household. But he is a friend."

"What about Queen Mary?"

"Her Majesty owns the club. In a way, she also owns us. But I mean that loosely. We choose to be part of her household. She provides us with a home and with protection. We, in turn, provide her service, both here in the apartment and downstairs in the club. We never see Her Majesty except by her invitation. You're going to meet her this afternoon. She wants to look you over to be sure you will fit in with us. Don't worry. I know she'll like you. Anyway, in her presence we are required to kneel at all times. We speak only in response to her questions. We perform whatever tasks she requires. We address her always, 'Your Majesty.' We refer to her always as 'Her Majesty.' I know it sounds kind of silly; but, like I say, she provides us with a home and with protection. People like us don't often have either or both."

I looked at her. She was engrossed in her work. She was not smiling.

"In addition to our duties as waitresses and whores in the club, and yes, we are whores, get used to that fact, we are also required to keep the apartment clean. We clean all the rooms, we do all the laundry, we do all the cooking. Both Teddy and Her Majesty have their meals delivered to them. We are at their beck and call twenty-four hours a day. But it's a pleasure. They're easy to work for, as long as we do our job."

By now I had arranged four fruit cups, and Robin had cooked up a pile of pancakes. She walked over to an intercom attached to the wall next to the door, and pressed a button. A soft buzz sounded in the speaker. "That's Teddy's button," she said. A minute later, a louder buzz sounded in the kitchen. "That means he's awake, and we can take his breakfast to him."

She walked back over to the counter and reached into a cabinet under it, pulling out a large silver tray and a matching lid. She reached into a drawer and pulled out a large linen napkin. "First," she told me, "you put this napkin on the tray. Then, you set a plate on it." She put a plate from one of the cupboards on the tray. "Then, you take some silverware and roll it up in a napkin." She demonstrated this procedure. "Now, you pour a carafe of coffee from the coffeemaker, and pour a little juice in a juice glass." She did all this. She stacked pancakes on the plate, placed a sugar bowl, creamer and syrup server on the tray, then finished with a cup and saucer. She covered the tray with the matching cover.

"Take this tray down to Teddy's room. Tap on his door. He'll tell you when to enter. You'll have to balance the tray on one hand while you open the door. Think you can do that?"

I said I thought I could.

"You take the tray in to his room and, over against the wall, you'll see a tray butler. You carry that over to his bedside, open it up, and place the tray on it. Then, remove the cover. He may dismiss you. If he doesn't, you stand nearby, being quiet and unobtrusive, and wait for his instructions. Got that?"

I said yes, and picked up the tray. It was heavy, but I was able to balance it without too much difficulty, in spite of the unfamiliar feel of the high heels on my feet. Carefully, I left the kitchen, crossed the living room, and stepped into the hall. I walked slowly down the hall until I stood at Teddy's door. Balancing the tray with one hand underneath it, I softly tapped on the wooden door. I heard him say, "Yes, come in, please."

I turned the knob and opened the door. Teddy was sitting in his bed, naked, his long black penis lying quietly between his legs. In my mind, I was envisioning myself crawling across the room and up to the foot of his bed, begging him to let me suck him off. And to think that only yesterday I'd been a virgin! I found the butler's caddy and set it up one-handedly next to the bed. Then I set the tray down on it, and lifted off the cover. Teddy seemed delighted. "Excellent, little Fanny. You're making great progress."

He ate with great relish, while I stood quietly off to one side, waiting for his instructions. My mind couldn't erase the image of me kneeling between Teddy's legs, his enormous erection embedded in my mouth. My own penis was beginning to grow stiff. Frantically, I tried to change my thoughts to something else, anything to make my growing erection disappear. What if he ordered me to lift my skirt? Robin hadn't told me what punishment I might get for having an erection. Maybe it was too horrible to talk about. I started to get nervous and twitchy. My face was burning red. Slowly, my hardon receded. I breathed a sigh of relief and concentrated instead on examining the wall.

Finally, Teddy was finished. "Excellent!" he exclaimed. "Did you prepare this splendid repast?"

"No, sir, Robin did," I replied, not knowing whether it was proper to call him Teddy in my maid role. "I fixed the fruit cup."

He laughed. "And a delicious fruit cup it was." Then he motioned me to come stand beside the bed where he could see me more clearly. "This afternoon, before you return to your base, you will be taken to meet Her Majesty, Queen Mary. If you meet with her approval, you will be invited to become a member of our household. Would you like to do that?"

I nodded. "Yes, sir, very much."

He studied my face. "I suppose Robin has told you that as a member of our household, you will be required to work downstairs in the club."

"Yes, sir, she did."

"She also told you what your duties entailed down there."

"Yes, sir."

"And you still want to be accepted into our household."

"Yes, sir."

He clapped his hands in delight. "Good girl! Now, take these dishes back to the kitchen. You will be called when it is time."

"Yes, sir." I was so overwhelmed, I even gave a sort of curtsy, even though I had no idea how to go about doing it. Teddy smiled at me as I gathered up the remains of his breakfast, and scurried out the door and back to the kitchen.

When I got to the kitchen, I noticed Robin was gone. She must be serving Queen Mary, I mean, Her Majesty. I was very curious about this person. What would she be like? And why all the formal reverence at even the mention of her name? Oh, well, soon enough I'll know the answer to that question. I sat down on a stool and waited for Robin to return.

Not long after, Robin did return, carrying a tray like the one I'd used to serve Teddy. She, indeed, had brought breakfast to Her Majesty. While we busied ourselves rinsing the dishes and placing them in the dishwasher, and cleaning up the pots and pans, Robin continued to explain how the household operated. It seemed that Her Majesty had several real estate investments, which her brother, Teddy, managed. These investments kept them busy most of the time. Robin had no knowledge of the details; she only knew that Teddy and Her Majesty were often gone from the apartment.

"What about the bartender, Samuel?" I asked. "Is he somehow related to Teddy and Her Majesty?"

Robin replied, "I don't know if he is or not. I know he doesn't live here. But, he comes to the club every day around noon to order supplies and to supervise deliveries, that sort of stuff. I usually go down there about one or two o'clock to sweep and clean and set the place up. And, if he's not too busy, he'll often help me. He's real sweet. Sometimes he'll come in the morning and pick me up and take me for walks in the park, or shopping at the stores along U Street, and we'll talk and talk. As far as I can tell, he's straight. He never messes with me. I've never seen him mess with the customers, either."

By this time, we had finished cleaning up the kitchen, so we went back to our room, where we relaxed and chatted, Robin introducing me to the wonderful world of girltalk. She got out some women's magazines and showed me pictures and articles about womens' dress and makeup, and we talked for a long time about things I would need to learn to become a lady. I was absolutely captivated. Robin's enthusiasm was boundless. I forgot all about the Army. What did that have to do with me anymore? I wanted to be a girl like Robin.

Sometime later, Robin's intercom began to make radio static noises, and suddenly Teddy's voice filled the room. "Would you girls please come at once to my room?" he asked in his formal, precise manner, which was not haughty or overbearing, just precise.

We stood up, and Robin looked me over, making little adjustments to my wig, and smoothing out my dress. Then, taking my hand, she led me out of the room and down the hall to Teddy's door, which she softly knocked on. Teddy, in a friendly, though still properly formal tone, invited us to enter.

Once inside the room, he had us stand over by a wall while he remained seated in an easy chair. "We are about to introduce Fanny to Her Majesty," he said. "I wanted to be certain you understood the proper way to behave while in her presence." He then went on to explain that, upon entering her throne-room, as he called it, we were to position ourselves directly before her, curtsy, and kneel down. Our eyes were at all times to be looking downwards towards the floor. We were not to speak except to respond to questions or commands. We were to carry out any commands she might issue by first standing, then curtsying, then performing the desired task. We were to address her at all times as, "Your Majesty."

I thought this was a bit bizarre; but, since Robin and Teddy both seemed to be so serious about it, I decided to play along. If I didn't like this part of life in this household, I could always simply leave and never return. I hated to think of that possibility, though. I was really smitten with Robin. And I think I was falling in some sort of love with Teddy.

Teddy opened the door and preceded us into the hallway. We walked a short distance to another door. Teddy knocked on it and waited a few moments before opening it and entering the room. He closed the door behind him, leaving me and Robin standing in the hall. Robin appeared to be as nervous as I was. Perhaps she was just apprehensive about the impression I would make on Her Majesty. Or about the impression Her Majesty would make on me.

Suddenly, the door opened and Teddy said, "You may enter." Robin went in first, with me right on her heels. The room was quite large. Over to one side was a huge canopy bed, that must have been king-size; it dominated that side of the room. Beside it was a night table with a lamp and a telephone on it. Next to that was an easy chair. I noticed no dresser or vanity table; later, I was to learn that there was a separate room which served as Her Majesty's boudoir. Across the room from the bed sat Her Majesty on her throne. The throne looked like something from an old movie about African deity-rulers. It was made of rattan, with a high back intricately filigreed. It sat on a raised platform, which was covered by an expensive-looking Persian rug. The rug draped over the platform and spread out several feet into the center of the room. Robin - and I, of course - crossed the room and knelt together on the edge of the rug, directly facing Her Majesty. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Robin press her hands together, fingers extended, and place them against her breast, as though she were a supplicant praying. I decided to mimic her posture.

Her Majesty was an enormously round Negro, lighter in skin tone than her brother, Teddy, but still quite dark. She was dressed in a richly-colored gown which fell only to her knees. Her breasts seemed to be as big as my head, they were so large. Her arms were as thick as my thighs. She was huge. Her hair was piled on her head in a style similar to a beehive hairdo. Her neck, almost as thick as her arms, was adorned with many gold necklaces, dazzling in their brightness. Every finger of both hands was covered with gold rings, crusted with precious stones of a variety of kinds. Her wrists were covered with bright gold bracelets. She was a magnificent, overwhelming creature. Robin and I knelt solemnly before her, prepared to do her bidding.

Teddy broke the silence. "Your Majesty," he said, "I present for your approval the newest member of our household, who has chosen the name Fanny." I began to blush slightly, and to perspire.

Teddy continued, "Fanny was initiated yesterday. I found her to be not only acceptable, but charming. Robin has expressed a fervent wish that she be admitted to our household, to serve as her sister and friend. I myself support Robin's request. I believe Fanny would be a delightful addition to our family."

Her Majesty continued to regard me in silence. Finally, she raised the index finger of her hand, almost imperceptibly, as some sort of a signal to Teddy, who stepped forward to stand beside me. He leaned down and whispered in my ear, "You are to stand, curtsy, and approach the throne. When you are directly before Her Majesty, curtsy again and kneel down." Awkwardly, in my new high-heels, I stood up, executed a clumsy, novice curtsy, and stepped forward until I was nearly touching Her Majesty's knees. I curtsied awkwardly again, and knelt down. Once more, as I knelt uncomfortably before this massive presence, a heavy silence descended on the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a slight movement coming from where Her Majesty sat. Trying not to be noticed, I glanced upward until my eye was level with her lap. Her thumb and index finger were gripping the hem of her skirt and slowly raising it up over her gigantic thighs.

She was exposing herself to me! My mouth fell open in shock. But not a word was uttered. I watched in fascination as the skirt traveled further and further up her legs. Now, she began using both hands to pull it up. And it was then that the second, most profound, shock occurred. She had a penis! It wasn't quite as long as Teddy's, though it was long. But, it was much thicker than his, and even darker, if that was possible. I stared in wonder at this massive pole, my lips quivering. She didn't have to say anything. I knew what was expected of me.

Slowly, I inched forward on my knees, hoping I didn't ruin my lovely fishnet hose. When I was poised over Her Majesty's cock, I stared straight down at it, wondering if my mouth could accommodate such a large object. Gently, she placed a hand on my head, and pressed. I closed my eyes, opened my mouth wide, and lowered my face. My lips were dry, so I gave them a quick lick, then prepared to accept Her Majesty's prick into my waiting mouth. As it moved past my lips, I licked it around the head and stem, closing my lips over it as I did so. Using what little skill I had developed in the previous twenty- four hours, I began giving head to this magnificent organ. Before long, my mind simply closed down and all thinking stopped. I was now running on pure emotional response to all tactile sensations. My head bobbed up and down on Her Majesty's prick. I licked; I sucked; I savored the pressure of her member against the sides of my mouth and the back of my throat. Faster and faster my head moved up and down the fantastic lollipop. Finally, I realized she was about to come. How I was able to sense that, I don't know. Perhaps I noticed a change in temperature, as though her penis were a large thermometer. Anyway, I began to worry about her cum. Would I be able to swallow it all? I knew it would be a massive amount; it had to be, coming from a cock that huge. I was afraid that if I spilled even a single drop, somehow I would displease Her Majesty and be dismissed, never to be allowed in her presence, or her household, or even her club, ever again.

So, I concentrated on opening my throat as wide as I could to receive her shower - her downpour! - of sperm. At the same time, I pressed my lips even more firmly around her penis, hoping I could keep any cream from leaking out. And then it happened. She exploded into my mouth, then exploded again. And again. And again. Four floods of cum poured into me, and I began swallowing as hard and as fast as I could. I didn't taste; I didn't smell; all I did was swallow. I was lucky. I managed somehow to get it all. I was gagging and having difficulty breathing; but, I didn't care. I had done the impossible. I had swallowed every drop. I began to cry, quietly, my tears slowly rolling down my cheeks. I held Her Majesty's penis tenderly in my mouth, gently licking it clean as it softened and shrank in size. After awhile, I felt the pressure of her hand once again on the top of my head. I knew I was done. Reluctantly, I raised my head, letting her cock slide slowly out of my mouth.

When I was kneeling straight up again, eyes downcast, I heard Teddy's voice speaking very softly, "Fanny, you may return to your place."

Wobbling slightly on my still unfamiliar high-heels, I stood up and backed across the rug until I was even with Robin again. Slowly, I lowered myself onto my knees. The room became silent again. Her Majesty, Queen Mary, gathered herself together and stood up. Heavily, she stepped down from her throne and crossed the room to a door I found out later entered into her boudoir. When she was finally gone from the room, Teddy said, "All right, girls, you may get up." Robin and I both stood together. We followed Teddy out of the throne room and into the hall. He dismissed us, telling us we could return to our room. Quietly, so as not to break the solemn mood in the apartment, we crossed to the other end of the hall, and entered our room.

As soon as the door was closed, Robin turned and, with a smile that covered her entire face, threw her arms around me. "Oh, Fanny! You're in! You're one of us! She liked you!" She began whirling me about in a clumsy waltz motion, laughing and squeezing me. I started laughing, too. And we twirled and whirled until we were breathless.

We spent the rest of the afternoon excitedly making plans. Of course, because of my Army obligations, I couldn't come to the club except on the weekends. I did have my thirty-day annual leave still available, and I resolved to apply for it as soon as possible the next day. That would give me more time to become accustomed to my new life. I was so excited and full of happiness, I didn't even stop to consider all the complications this weekend would cause for me in the near future. All I cared about was that I had made an amazing self-discovery, and had made a wonderful, loving friend, for what seemed like the first time in my entire life.

I decided that, rather than call Chuck for a ride, I would take a bus back to the base. Once I knew the route, I would be independent of Chuck and his car, and could get myself to Queen Mary's as soon as work ended each Friday. I could stay as late as possible on Sunday, too, before returning to base. Every minute with Robin was a minute in heaven, if having a soulmate could be considered being in heaven. It felt that way to me, anyway.

When I got back to the base, I went directly to my barracks. All the guys were there, of course, having also returned from their weekend passes. Because Robin had shaved my legs earlier that day, I didn't want to take my clothes off in front of everyone else. I wasn't sure how I was going to manage taking a shower without being noticed; I hoped maybe Chuck and Al could provide some assistance with this problem.

They were waiting for me, eager to hear the whole story. Somehow, I didn't trust Al to keep what I said confidential; but, I did trust Chuck. I didn't know how to avoid discussing my weekend away from Al, though. So, I decided to just take a chance, hoping he would be discreet. Without going into all the details, I related what had happened - how I had come to realize that Robin and I shared a good deal in common; how sensitive Teddy was; how caring and generous Queen Mary was. I didn't tell about all the blowjobs I'd given, or all the cornholings I'd received. I had the feeling Chuck and Al were a little disappointed by my narrative. Obviously, they wanted to know specifically what I'd experienced. The most they were able to get from me was that I had come to a startling awareness about myself through the events that had occurred in the last twenty-four hours.

Then came the crucial moment. Somehow, I had to tell them what I'd done to my legs, and ask them to help me disguise this fact from the rest of the guys in our barracks. I figured the best way was simply to blurt it out, and see what happened. Al got this big grin on this face. I had the feeling he wanted more than anything else to announce my news to the rest of the barracks. But, Chuck listened very attentively and seriously. He was an obvious brake on Al's impulsive crudeness. After I'd made my confession, Chuck reached into his pocket and pulled out several quarters. He gave them to Al, and asked him to go get some sodas from the soft drink machine. Reluctantly, Al got up from his bunk and left to get the drinks.

Once he was out of earshot, Chuck turned to me and said, "You know, Steve, I've had a feeling about you ever since I met you. Nothing definite, mind you, but just this feeling. You never did anything to make me think you were a queer, or anything. But I had this sense there was something about you that definitely was different."

I looked him in the eye. "Well, Chuck, if you did, you were way ahead of me."

"I know," he said, "But, the first time I ever saw Robin at Queen Mary's, she reminded me of you. Is that weird? But, I remember sitting there, looking at her, and thinking, this could be Stevie. So, I made up my mind to take you there. Just to see if my hunch was right."

My eyes misted over. "You mean that? You're not just pulling my leg."

"No, no!" he exclaimed. "I'm serious! And I think it's wonderful you've made this discovery about yourself. I've always liked you, even though you are probably the unhappiest person I've ever known."

I smiled through my tears. "Well, not anymore, Chuck. And thanks for what you've done. I mean that."

He reached out and shook my hand solemnly. "I know you're going to have some difficult times ahead, but I'll stand up with you, little buddy."

Just then, Al came back with our sodas, and we spent the next several minutes discussing strategies for sneaking me into the shower so my shaved legs wouldn't be discovered.

The next morning, as soon as I was able to get a break and get over to the headquarters office, I applied for my thirty day leave. As luck would have it, things were a bit slow and I could be spared. So the lieutenant approved it, beginning late the following month. I could hardly wait to give Robin the news.

After a hectic week of hiding my legs from my barracks mates, I was finally able to breathe easier on Friday morning. I knew that as soon as work was done, I was going to be on the bus heading into DC for an exciting weekend in my new "home." The day seemed to take forever to finish. But, finally, they sounded retreat, and I dashed to the orderly room to pick up my pass. Chuck was there, and he asked me if I'd like to go into town with him. I gave him a wink and said, "No, thanks, pal. I've got a date." I dashed out the door, across the parade ground, out the gate, across Arlington Boulevard, and a few yards down the sidewalk to the bus stop. My heart was thumping like a triphammer.

The bus arrived and I leaped aboard, nearly missing the coin chute I was going so fast. I got a transfer from the driver, and found a seat near the back of the bus. All the way into DC I couldn't keep my hands still, but kept rubbing my thighs, or folding and unfolding my hands. I was sweating just from the anticipation of getting back to Queen Mary's. Finally, the bus got to 12th Street, and I jumped through the back door the instant it opened. I dashed up the street to where the stop for the 12th Street bus was located. A few minutes later, and I was sitting in a seat near the rear of that bus, nervously tapping my feet, and drumming my hands against my thighs. Finally, after what seemed like hours - it was probably more like ten minutes - the bus arrived at 12th and U Streets. Again, I leaped off, and dashed across the intersection. I sprinted the block and a half the rest of the way, finally arriving at the entrance to the club.

I took a deep breath to calm myself, then opened the door, my heart singing with joy. Teddy was standing just inside the door. He smiled, his teeth a sparkling white against his purple-black face. "Good evening, Fanny," he said, "Robin has been waiting for you. You're to go with her to your room to dress for work."

I nodded my head up and down as though it were attached to a spring, a foolish grin spread across my face. Quickly, I walked into the dimly-lit club, and found Robin. She threw her arms around me in a big hug, and said, "Come on, Sis, we've got to get you dressed."

We dashed upstairs and sprinted to our room. "I want to shower and shave," I told Robin. "I want to look perfect for my first night on the job." She laughed delightedly, and helped me undress. Holding a towel around myself, I dashed across the hall into our bathroom, and turned on the shower. While I was soaping off, Robin came in and shaved my legs. Omigod, it felt so good! I jumped out of the shower and toweled off. Then, carefully, so as not to knick myself with my shaking hands, I shaved my face and underarms.

I crossed the hall again, and Robin was waiting for me. She had removed her dress and her girdle. She was holding the boned corset in front of her. I knew instantly what to do. Carefully, lovingly, I wrapped it around her and laced it up as tight as it would go. Then I helped her into her dress. While she was zipping it up and reapplying her makeup, I got my outfit out of the closet and my underwear out of her dresser. I slipped the stockings up my legs, and put on the high-heel shoes. Robin held my corset around my waist until I had attached the garter straps to my stockings. Then, while she laced me into the boned, rubberized prison, I pressed it as tightly to me as I could. Finally, she was finished lacing me up. I could barely breathe. In my excited state, I was afraid I might begin to hyperventilate. But, I was at last able to calm myself down, and proceeded to finish dressing myself. Robin sat me in front of the mirror and put my makeup on, again reminding me to pay careful attention as I was going to have to start doing this chore myself. After applying my makeup, she had me polish my nails while she carefully combed my wig, then put it on my head, pinning it into place.

Finally she was done, and I was transformed. I looked into the mirror. I still looked too much like a male to suit me. But in the dim light of the club, people might still see me as feminine, especially if I was careful to behave as effeminately as possible. I tried to remember all the advice Robin had given me during our short time together the previous weekend. I was so excited about starting my new life at Queen Mary's, I didn't even think about the fact that my ass and my balls were exposed for any wayward hand to assault. All I could think of was Robin's advice, especially her advice to be myself, not to be ashamed of my male voice or my male features. "Just be comfortable being you," she had told me. But, who was I, really? Tonight I would find out.

We went back downstairs to the club. It was still pretty empty, it being early in the evening, and Queen Mary's not a place where people stopped for a meal. There were a couple of customers sitting at the bar having an after-work cocktail. They looked me over with mild curiosity, turning to Robin to ask, "Who's the new queen?" Robin introduced me as her best friend ever, and the men shook my hand, welcoming me to Queen Mary's. I did a little curtsy and thanked them for their kindness. We chatted amiably for a few minutes, until more customers began arriving. My job in the club was like Robin's, to wait tables. Robin assigned me the booths against the back wall. "You'll be further away from all the traffic, and you won't feel so conspicuous," she explained. She didn't explain that I would have to weave a path through all the tables to get to the bar with my orders, and that this path was strewn with anonymous hands that just loved groping up under my skirt, to pat my ass or pinch my dick. When I complained to Robin about this later in the evening, she just smiled. "You'll get used to it, Fanny," she said. "You'll even come to enjoy it. One bit of advice, though. Don't ever complain about it. Teddy believes that the customer is always, always, right. You'll get no sympathy. You'll just make trouble for yourself."

As the evening progressed, the club began to fill up. It seemed that every table and booth was full of customers, and they were drinking an awful lot of booze. It was probably just a typical night, actually; but, I had never waitressed before, so I had no frame of reference. Except my feet. On those three-inch, nail-thin spiked heels, my feet were getting sorer and sorer.

But I was about to forget my weary feet. As I was delivering a round of drinks to a booth, I suddenly felt a hand up my skirt, and the fingers spread across the cheek of my ass, rubbing softly up and down. I looked down to see whose arm was reaching in that direction. Suddenly a voice: "I got a ten dollar tip for you, baby. For all your good service. Interested?"

I spun around, to face the voice, which had come from someone at the table behind me. It was Chuck! I began to stammer, "Uh, oh, wha - "

He laughed at my obvious discomfort. "Come on, little buddy, it's what you're paid for, you know." His laugh had become a leer. The rule was that I could not refuse a "tip." Only Teddy could do that. I was obliged to signal him about every offer, and he would respond with his approval, or disapproval. Chuck knew it, too. So, all I could do was stand there, with Chuck's hand exploring my asscheek, and raise one finger in the direction of Teddy. He looked over in the dim light, saw me, my finger, the customer, and nodded slightly. I turned to Chuck and said, "Ok, thanks very much for your generosity." I picked up the ten-dollar bill he had placed on the table and took it over to Teddy, who silently pocketed it. Then, I turned and started across the open dance floor, opening the door to the little back room. I heard scattered applause and a few catcalls from some nearby customers. Everyone in the place knew why I was going into that room, and there were a few smart-alecks who enjoyed making a fuss about it.

I stood inside the room waiting for Chuck. A few seconds later, he entered. He didn't say a word, but just pointed at the bed. I guessed he wanted me to sit down on it. As soon as I was seated, holding my knees tightly together to look as feminine as possible, and to squeeze my cock so I wouldn't get an erection, he stepped in front of me and unzipped his trousers. Of course I'd seen Chuck's manhood before, many times. But never like this. Never this close. And I'd never seen it erect. He pulled it out of his fly and pointed it at me. It was still soft. "Go ahead, little buddy," he whispered. "I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."

Suddenly I realized why Chuck had seen in me what I hadn't seen in myself. He was a man-loving man. Apparently, however, he couldn't admit that to himself. Being blown by a man in a dress at least preserved the image of heterosexuality. I wanted to laugh, but I didn't want to ruin the mood. He was, after all, a good friend. Hadn't he helped me find myself? When I hadn't even known I was lost?

I leaned forward and circled my hand around the base of his cock. It twitched. I was charmed. Slowly, lovingly, I leaned my face forward and, after wetting my lips with my tongue, I kissed the head, placing my lips over the pee-hole. I could feel Chuck's penis begin to stiffen and grow. I opened my mouth and gently slid my lips over the crown, pressing them together just behind it. I rolled my tongue around the head, savoring the taste and texture of Chuck's rapidly warming dick. The harder it got, the more silky-smooth it got. Slowly, I let my lips slide down the length of it, until they touched my hand. I released my hand, using it instead to cup his balls, gently rolling them around in my fingers. He was starting to moan, a low animal sound. I pulled my lips back up the length of his rod, stopping just behind his crown. My tongue circled his cock, then lapped hungrily at the underside of the stem. Now I set to work in earnest, and began bobbing my head up and down the length of his penis as it grew stiffer and stiffer. His groans increased in volume, and I could tell he was nearing a climax. I wondered what his cum would taste like. I wondered what this was going to do to our friendship. Would we ever be able to face one another again? Would we ever be able to keep our hands off one another again? I didn't have any answers, so I concentrated on milking his prick instead. As I felt his penis begin to twitch, I increased the momentum of my bobbing head. Actually, he was so excited, he had begun fucking my face. We were in a frenzied heat by now. His balls kept banging against my chin; I liked the strange feelings they aroused in me. But, then, in a rush of hot semen, it was over. He poured his sperm into my mouth, and I swallowed it all. I kept him inside me for awhile longer, letting him drain as his prick softened and shrank. Finally, I opened my mouth and released him, giving his cock a little kiss before I lovingly tucked it away in his drawers.

There were tears in Chuck's eyes. "Thanks, little pal," he said, almost whispering the words. Then, he turned and left the room. I stayed there a few moments, letting my breathing return to normal, combing my wig back into a state of neatness, and just generally regathering my wits. Then I returned to the bar to pick up my tray and resume my duties. I caught Robin's eye, and she flashed me a loving smile. Teddy watched me silently, nodding slightly when I formed the word "Ok" with my mouth. I looked around and noticed Chuck had gone. So had the other guys he'd been sitting with. I was a little disappointed. On the other hand, I could now relax. I knew I could handle strangers comfortably now, having successfully handled a friend.

The night proceeded in a normal fashion, normal for Queen Mary's being that I gave at least a dozen blowjobs, and got fucked in the ass a couple of times. By the time the last customer had gone, I was a true veteran. I was quite pleased with myself. Robin took my hand and led me up the stairs to our room, where we wearily undressed, crossed the hall to take a shower together, laughing and gossiping as we did so, then returned to our room to don our nighties and stockings. We piled into bed, where we lay in each other's arms, kissing each other's red lips, and continuing our conversation from the shower. With Robin's voice sounding gently, lovingly, in my ear, I fell into a deep, peaceful slumber, perhaps the most peaceful slumber I had ever known.

I became a permanent waitress at Queen Mary's club, working every Friday and Saturday night. As I got used to the routine, and to the customers, I formed many relationships and even began to develop a clientele of regulars. Robin and I grew closer and closer; Sunday afternoons were always bittersweet times, since we knew the hour was nearing when I would have to return to the base, and we wouldn't be able to see one another for at least five days. So we would spend Sunday afternoons in our room, sitting side by side on the bed, which, with the addition of a couple of bolsters and some soft throw pillows, converted into a couch. We would hold hands and talk quietly, forming plans for the future, or just talking fashions, or just plain gossiping. I treasured those moments of peaceful rest, pouring my heart and soul out to another human being who shared my feelings, who loved me without reservations of any kind.

Back at the barracks, things weren't progressing quite so well. My behavior was becoming "weirder" to the guys in my platoon. I guess trying so hard to cultivate my feminine side at the club was causing me to carry back some of that behavior to the barracks. Certainly, my mannerisms were becoming more effeminate, I guess what some people might call "limp-wristed," or "faggoty."

Finally, of course, the inevitable happened. My shaved legs and underarms were discovered. A couple of the guys wandered into the shower as I was soaping up, laughing and joking with Chuck and Al, and I had just raised my arm to soap my armpit. These guys pretended they hadn't seen anything, but it was obvious they'd noticed. They took hurried showers and left the latrine area way ahead of us. Within a day or two, I noticed a distinct coolness in the way some guys were treating me. Guys who would sit with me in the mess hall, or would kid with me at work, suddenly found other people to spend their time with. Oddly, I realized I really didn't care. My only worry was that they might become hostile, might even become physically abusive. I was careful to behave in such a way that I did not draw attention to myself, at least much more than was necessary.

As the time for my month-long leave approached, Chuck and I began having conversations about my increasing involvement with Queen Mary's, and my obvious turn to more feminine behavior. It was his recommendation that I go to my superiors, inform them that I was a homosexual, and request a discharge on those grounds. The only problem was that, if I did so, I might receive a bad-conduct discharge, and would not be eligible for any veterans' benefits. I had thought I might want to go to college some day, so those benefits were pretty important to me.

But, Chuck kept arguing that maybe the lieutenant might take a sympathetic approach and find some way to get me a general discharge, which wasn't as good as an honorable discharge, but we thought wouldn't jeopardize my benefits, either. So, after hours of conversation about the matter, I decided to give it a try. I really had lost all interest in the Army, anyway, and wanted only to be able to move into Queen Mary's permanently, to start the life I knew now was destined for me.

So, I made an appointment with the lieutenant, and told him what I had learned about myself, what I had been doing for the past several weeks, the whole nine yards. I even hiked up my trousers and showed him my shaved legs. I had considered wearing stockings under my trousers, but at the last minute had chickened out and left them in my footlocker. Needless to say, the lieutenant was speechless. He was aghast, was more like it. His face turned a sort of sickly gray-white and for a few minutes, I thought he was going to lose his lunch right there. But he finally composed himself, and told me in a voice dripping with venom that under no circumstances would he support my request for a discharge. In fact, he said if I didn't withdraw my request and leave his office that instant, he might have me placed under arrest and tried for some violation of the Uniform Code of Military Justice and drummed out of the Army with a dishonorable discharge. I got the hell out of there.

Luckily for me, the lieutenant either forgot my upcoming leave, or he had decided to forget our conversation. The day arrived and I went to the orderly room to pick up my papers, which were waiting there for me, all signed, sealed and delivered, as they say. I had thirty days to decide what to do. I left the barracks with a smile on my lips - I was going to Queen Mary's, after all - but my heart was troubled. I knew a critical moment in my life was about to begin. I had several important decisions to make, and I had to prepare for major changes in my life I knew I could no longer avoid. The bus ride to 12th and U Streets was a long, long journey.

But, the weekend went surprisingly well. I was able to relax and enjoy myself, knowing that Sunday would be followed by Monday, as it were, and I would still be with my "family." It was an exhilarating weekend. Several times, Robin commented on how completely at home I seemed to be. With tears of joy in my eyes, I smiled and said I was home. At long last, I was finally home.

I guess it was the euphoria of that weekend that led me to make the fateful (fatal?) decision that forced the final crisis. Sunday evening, after having served Teddy and Her Majesty their dinner, and having enjoyed a light supper ourselves, Robin and I were summoned to Teddy's room. As usual, whenever we visited Teddy in his room for business, he sat in his easy chair and we stood against the wall opposite from him. Tonight was no exception.

Teddy seemed quiet, quieter than usual. He regarded us for several moments, sitting with his elbow on the arm of the chair, his arm bent upwards, his hand cupping his chin. Finally, he said, "Are you girls aware that there is a surgical procedure by which breasts may be increased to whatever size a woman may desire?"

Robin and I looked at each other. No, we both said. We didn't know of such an operation.

"Yes," Teddy said, "it's done with a gelatin substance, or something of the sort. This substance is inserted into the chest cavity and the breasts are then formed to whatever shape and size the woman wishes."

We both said that sounded like a wonderful thing. It was obvious neither of us was getting the point. Teddy studied us thoughtfully, wondering if perhaps we were just tired. We couldn't possibly be this dumb, could we?

But, finally, a light began to flicker. Robin glanced sidelong at me, and I returned her look. We both turned to Teddy. Our eyes were wide open, our mouths drawn in little circles.

Teddy, a faint smile showing in his eyes, went on, "Her Majesty and I have had many conversations regarding this procedure. It seems that it is both safe and affordable, so much so that Her Majesty has expressed a desire that this topic be brought to your attention so that we might gauge your opinion."

Robin smiled broadly. "You mean I might have breasts of my own?" She was incredulous. Teddy nodded in the affirmative. Robin turned to me, excitedly grabbing my hands. "Oh, Fanny," she cried. "Isn't it wonderful? Our very own breasts. Oh, I'm so excited. Oh, you'll be beautiful with breasts!"

I smiled back at her, happy for her. "But, Robin," I said, "I don't think the Army will share your enthusiasm."

She pouted. "Oh, fuck the Army. I thought you were trying to get them to let you out, anyway."

"Well, I am," I countered. "But, my commander is against it. He's even threatened to throw me in jail, and then kick me out of the Army with a dishonorable discharge."

Teddy interrupted us. "Her Majesty has instructed me to inform you that she desires you both to take advantage of this opportunity. She has also stated that either both of you shall have the operation, or neither one of you shall. And she has further instructed me to report a decision to her tonight."

Robin was glaring at me. Teddy stood up. "You may return to your room to discuss this. I will summon you within the half hour, at which time you will inform me of your decision."

Silently, we left Teddy's room and walked the length of the hall to our own room. Robin was obviously distressed. I didn't know quite what to think. We sat down together on our bed-couch, and for a few minutes, nothing was said. Finally, Robin broke the silence.

"Ever since I was a little kid, I've always wanted breasts. Truth to tell, what I've really wanted is to be able to produce milk, so I could nurse a baby. But, to be able to do that, I have to have breasts." She folded her arms across her chest and glared at the floor. "Don't you see, Fanny? It's the dream of my life come true! Please! Can't you do this for me?"

How could I say no to this wonderful friend? I felt awful. I felt like the lowest vermin on earth. "But, Robin," I pleaded, "I don't want to go to jail. I'm already in big trouble as it is. If I go to jail, my life will be ruined. Forever."

She began crying, hard. And this was not just feminine wiles. Her tears were genuine. I had broken her heart. I felt like shit. We sat there for awhile, me staring at the wall, Robin lying with her head on a throw-pillow, sobbing her heart out. I couldn't stand it.

I tried again. "Suppose after my leave is up and I go back to my outfit and try again, the lieutenant will give up and get me the discharge. Then, we could go to Her Majesty and say we want the operation."

Choking on her sobs, Robin blurted, "Oh, Fanny, you don't know anything at all. When Teddy made the offer, it was obvious if we didn't take it right away, it wasn't going to be made again. Didn't you understand that?"

I was getting sadder and sadder. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't get that part at all."

"Her Majesty doesn't like wishy-washy behavior. You either go along, or you move along. This is it, Fanny. This is my only chance to have real breasts. Please? Won't you do it? For me?" And she began sobbing again.

I knew if I continued to say no, I would lose the only real friend I had ever known. This opportunity was too important to Robin for me to let it pass. Even our friendship didn't match the importance of this.

So, heaving a sigh, I turned to her and said, "Ok, you win. I'm with you."

Instantly, her arms were around my neck, her lips kissing my face. "Oh, Fanny," she cried, "Oh, you're the best friend anyone ever had. You'll never regret this, believe me. Oh, Fanny. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you."

I returned her hug, and tried to smile. But, I was too deeply troubled to be very enthusiastic about it. I knew my Army career was definitely over. Maybe even my life. If I were sent to prison, how long would I survive with tits?

A few minutes later, Teddy's voice sounded over the intercom, instructing us to report immediately to his room. Robin nearly jumped up from the couch. She turned to me with a huge smile, and pulled me along with her. Grasping my hand in hers, she led me down the hall. I felt like I was on my way to my execution. Robin knocked on Teddy's door, and he invited us to enter. Once again, I found myself standing against the wall, next to Robin, while Teddy sat across from us in his easy chair.

"Have you girls made a decision?" he asked.

Robin was so excited, she was bouncing up and down. "Yes!" she exclaimed. Teddy smiled warmly.

"And you, Fanny? Is your answer also 'Yes'?" he asked.

With some trepidation, I nodded. "Yes," I said, in a near-whisper.

"Excellent," he said. He stood up, turned to the door, and told us to wait for his summons. Then he left. Robin was squeezing my hand so tightly I thought she was going to cut off the circulation to my fingers. Finally, Teddy returned, stuck his head in the door, and told us to follow him.

He led us to Her Majesty's throne-room, as I knew he would. Holding the door open, he indicated we should enter and approach the throne. At the edge of Her Majesty's throne rug, we stopped, curtsied, and knelt down. Robin was still holding my hand; but, as we knelt, she released it and assumed the supplicant position, her hands pressed together against her chest, fingers straight in a prayerful attitude. I did the same.

Teddy spoke, "Your Majesty, I have raised the topic of breast development surgery with these two subjects. They both have agreed to undergo this procedure, and are eager to have it done immediately."

Her Majesty regarded us solemnly for awhile, then she said, "Do you both desire this surgery?"

It was the first time I had ever heard her speak. Her voice was surprisingly high-pitched and very soft, like a breeze whispering through a willow.

Robin excitedly replied, "Oh, yes, Your Majesty."

It was now my turn. I did not know what effect my reply would have on my life; but, I did know things were never, ever going to be the same again. "Yes, Your Majesty," I said, softly.

She continued to gaze upon us, then gestured almost imperceptibly with her finger. Teddy quickly said, "You two are dismissed. You may return to my room. I will join you there momentarily."

Robin nearly ran out of the room, even forgetting to curtsy, until she saw me do it. She made a hasty gesture, but being so eager to leave the room, nearly tripped over her own feet. I was so nervous, I almost burst out laughing. Somehow, we managed to get through the door and down the hall to Teddy's room.

Sometime later, he returned, seeming more relaxed and good-humored now that the decision had been made. He told us that we would be taken in the morning to a private clinic, located near Baltimore, Maryland. There, the procedure would be done, and we would spend ten days to two weeks in the clinic recuperating. It was going to be that easy. Something that was going to change my life forever was going to be handled in a very mundane, ordinary fashion. My mind could hardly grasp the enormity of what was about to occur.

The next morning, Teddy bundled us into a car for the drive to Baltimore. We had dressed in the outfits we wore whenever we went for walks with Samuel the bartender, taking care with our makeup and our hair, trying not to look as nervous as we were. We had no breakfast - I would only have thrown mine back up, anyway. The drive was pleasant, and seemed to take only a short time, although I would guess it actually lasted about an hour. The clinic was not in the city, but was located in the countryside somewhere in one of the communities that surrounded Baltimore. Since I knew nothing about that part of the country, I paid little attention to the actual location. I figured I would never be going back to it, anyway, so why bother memorizing where it was?

We drove through a gate at the end of a long driveway, pulling up outside an estate house that looked like Scarlett O'Hara's home in the movie "Gone With The Wind." We took our little overnight bags from the trunk of the car, and followed Teddy up the steps, across the wide, pillared porch, and through the very high door that served as the entrance. A woman in a nurse's uniform, all starchy-white, greeted us as we entered the large foyer. Teddy handed her several sheets of paper, and she glanced through them briefly. She thanked Teddy for his thoroughness and told him he could call in a couple of days to find out how our surgery had gone, and when he could expect to come to take us home.

Teddy turned to us, said goodbye, and immediately left the building. I looked around the foyer. It had a polished marble floor which gleamed in the morning sunlight that streamed through several floor-to-ceiling windows surrounding the huge lobby. The nurse indicated we were to follow her, which we did. We climbed a wide, arcing staircase to the second floor, then walked down a long hallway until we were ushered into a large, sunlit room. The room itself seemed quite comfortable. There were two hospital beds, and several comfortable-looking chairs. Separating the beds was a night-stand with a top big enough to place two trays of food on. Across the room from the bed was a door which opened into a small bathroom. Altogether, it was a typical hospital room, but much larger and apparently more comfortable than one would find in a general hospital. We both wondered what Her Majesty was paying for our stay. It had to be expensive.

The nurse instructed us to undress and put on one of those awful hospital gowns. Even a classy operation like this couldn't avoid the tackiness of hospital fashions. When we were finally wrapped into our thin, scratchy gowns, the nurse then told us we would be undergoing a battery of tests to prepare for our surgery. Soon enough, she returned and took us to the actual clinic area, where we were given the usual blood, heart and other tests, and a history was written up. Finally, we were told we would remain in the clinic area, as the doctor would be performing the surgeries within the hour. While we waited, she took us into a room which was used, I guess, to show patients the different varieties of prosthetics the clinic offered, for, it seemed, this clinic did much more than just breast surgery. We were shown several different breast forms, and were asked what cup-size we desired, as well as what shape we would like. Hoping I might be able to avoid detection back at the barracks after all, I indicated I wanted a triple-A cup, the absolute smallest size they offered. Robin, all bubbles and excitement, requested a D-cup. We were taken back to the waiting area, where we sat talking about nothing in particular.

A short time later, the nurse returned and told me that I was to go first. An attendant pushing a gurney appeared, and I was made to climb onto it and sit still while the local anesthetic was administered. Once the needles had been inserted into their proper locations, I was instructed to lie down. Immediately, I was wheeled into an operating room, which looked pretty much like any operating room of any hospital. Evidently, one of the needles that was sticking out of me was feeding me a tranquilizer of some sort, because my eyes were open and I could see what was happening around me; only, I just didn't care. Finally, the soft music playing from a loudspeaker caused me to doze off. I didn't reawaken until several hours later.

Robin and I lay side by side in our beds in the comfortable room. It had been a day or two since our surgery, and we were still pretty doped-up. To entertain us, the nurse had brought a television into the room, which she kept tuned to soap operas of one sort or another. Since neither Robin nor I had any interest in such shows, we mostly just laid there examining the ceiling, or gazing out the windows, while the voices coming from the television droned on. We both were continuing to be fed the tranquilizers through IVs which were attached to our arms.

But, finally, the time came when our dressings had to be changed, and the doctor wanted to take a look at the results of his work. A tall, pleasant looking, gray-haired man entered the room carrying a clipboard, and smiling at us both. "Well, well, well, ladies," he crooned. "Let's see how we're doing. Any discomfort to report?"

Neither of us answered. I suppose we were still pretty groggy.

He went first to Robin's bed, and pulled the sheet down from her chest. Then, he undid her nightgown, gently pulling it down. Her chest was completely covered, with several rows of gauze bandage wrapped around her body. The nurse deftly cut the bandages, and gingerly removed them. When Robin's new breasts were at last exposed, both the doctor and the nurse smiled broadly, obviously pleased with what they were seeing. Robin smiled up at them in a foggy sort of way. "Would you like to see the results?" asked the doctor.

Robin nodded, and the nurse went to retrieve a large mirror, which she held in front of Robin. Suddenly, Robin's face lit up. "Oh, Doctor!" she cried. "They're fabulous! Oh, thank you. Oh, my dreams have come true!" She began to weep, tears of joy pouring out of her eyes.

Now, the doctor and nurse turned their attention to me. They went through the same procedure, carefully removing the dressing from my chest. When at last my new breasts were exposed, the doctor and nurse reacted even more ecstatically than they had for Robin. The nurse exlaimed, "These are perfect, Doctor! They're absolutely perfect."

The doctor said, "Get the mirror. Let our little lady see for herself."

Groggily, I raised my head to gaze into the mirror the nurse held up at the foot of the bed. Suddenly, my eyes shot open, and I was fully awake. Attached to my chest were two mammoth breasts, at least a D-cup, if not an E. "Oh, no," I cried. "I asked for the smallest cup size you had. These breasts are much too large."

The doctor gave me one of those smiles meant to reassure troublesome patients. "I'm awfully sorry you're disappointed, my dear," he said in a soothing tone, "but to tell the truth, your cup size had already been ordered by the man who brought you here. I didn't know you thought you had some choice in the matter."

I began crying myself, but I wasn't spilling tears of joy. I was devastated. How could I report back to duty with these huge breasts hanging from my chest? There was no possible way I could ever hide the bulge, even if I wrapped myself up like a mummy. I heard the doctor order the nurse to increase my sedative. Soon afterwards, I was asleep, transported off to dreamland in a narcotic haze.

When at last I returned to wakefulness, the nurse was standing in between our beds. She looked at us both, then said, "Now, since your bandages have been removed, we don't want to waste all the hard work the doctor has done. So, for the next several days, you will be required to wear special bras. These bras have been designed to hold your breasts to the final shape they will assume. Without this step, the gelatin will just blob all over the place, and you'll look like hell. Believe me." She produced two bras, handing one to each of us. Then, she stepped over to Robin's bed, and helped her lower her gown, then fit her breasts into the specially-designed cups. She hooked the bra together, and finished by adjusting the straps.

Now, it was my turn. I had never worn a bra before, obviously, so this was going to be another new sensation to add to all the other ones I had so recently experienced: the feel of nylon hose, the grip of the corset stays, the taste of lipstick, the delight of a well-polished nail, the taste of an erect penis, the feel of a cock in my ass. The nurse had me sit up and lean over so my breasts, round and heavy, hung straight down. Carefully, she fit each one into the cups of the bra. They felt snug in the cups, squeezed into the pre-determined shape the bra was designed to form. The shoulder straps were drawn up over my shoulders, and then the bra was hooked behind me. Finally, the nurse had me sit up so she could adjust the straps to hold the cups at the desired angle. It was a strange, exciting feeling, even though I still harbored my initial, deep disappointment regarding the size of my breasts.

The nurse further instructed us not to remove our bras under any circumstances. She would attend to that chore. She asked if there were any questions, and, hearing none, she left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

When the nurse was gone, I turned to Robin. "Robin," I wailed. "What am I going to do? I can't go back to the barracks looking like this." I was whining like a little girl.

Robin smiled, an expression of deep contentment showing in her face. "Why bother going back at all, Fanny?" she said. "The only people who know where you've gone are Chuck and Al. They won't turn you in, will they?"

It was true. On my leave application form, I had indicated I was going to visit my parents in Kansas. Only Chuck knew the truth. I suppose Al did, too, since Chuck usually told him everything that was going on. So, if the Army went to find me in Kansas, I wouldn't be there. My parents had no idea where I was. We had not communicated since I had joined the Army. They had told me when I was a senior in high school that, because of my poor grades, they were not going to finance a college education for me. It really didn't matter to me at the time, and I gladly went down to the recruiting station and enlisted. But, their refusal to consider helping me get started on the road to life made me angry. Once I was safely off at boot camp, I simply erased them from my life.

Maybe I could hide from the Army. Right. And maybe the Russians could conquer the world. I didn't know what to do. I was scared to death.

But I was happy for Robin. She had gotten her heart's deepest desire. Never before had I seen such happiness in a person's eyes. And it had been my agreement to have the surgery that had made hers possible. She knew the sacrifice I had made, and she loved me all the more for it. I was her heroine. Nothing was too good for me.

About a week into our convalescence, I discovered something even more disturbing than the size of my breasts. I think it was actually Robin who found out first. We had been so focused on our new appendages, we hadn't thought about much else. The nurses had kept us confined to our beds, so that the breast "molds," which is what we called our bras, could do their work. We didn't even get up to go to the toilet. Instead, the nurses provided us with bedpans.

But, as I say, about a week into our convalescence, the nurse informed us that we were now to begin getting out of bed and walking about the clinic. She said we were going to be discharged in a few days, and we had to be strong enough to leave under our own steam.

Robin was the first to get out of bed. She made a beeline for the bathroom. "I want to pee like a regular person," she laughingly said. She was gone for about five minutes. I heard the toilet flush, followed by water running into the sink. The door opened, and there stood Robin, her face ashen as she looked across the room at me.

"What is it, Robin? You look as though you've just seen a ghost," I said.

She stared across the room at me for a moment. Finally, she croaked, "Our breasts are not the only surgical procedures they performed on us. There's more."

"What? What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Have you touched yourself lately?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Your genitals. Have you touched yourself down there?"

"No. I haven't had to, what with the bedpan they've got under me. Why do you ask?"

"Maybe," she said. She hesitated, then went on, "maybe you better see for yourself what I'm talking about."

Looking bewilderedly at her, I lifted my sheet, then pulled back my gown. I placed my hand between my legs, and touched my penis. Suddenly, my eyes shot wide open. Oh. My. God. My balls. Where were they? Oh, no. What had these murderers done to us?

Robin looked at me, her face registering her own shock. "You, too? They took yours too?"

My mouth fell open. I was speechless. All I could do was nod. Suddenly, Robin threw her head back and laughed. She laughed and laughed until the tears rolled down her cheeks. Finally, she said, "Well, that's a trade I would gladly make. These beautiful breasts in exchange for my useless balls? Any day, my sweet friend. Any day." And she continued laughing, until, overcome by the absurdity of our dilemma and the force of her merriment, I joined in. A few minutes later, the nurse entered the room to find the two of us standing in the middle of it, our arms thrown about each other's shoulders, laughing hysterically. She put her hands on her hips, shrugged her shoulders, said, "Some people will laugh at anything," turned on her heels, and marched back through the door, closing it loudly behind her.

A week and a half later, Teddy came to pick us up to take us home. By now, overcome by Robin's infectious joy, I had fallen in love with my new breasts, and was no longer concerned about what the Army might think of me. Nor was I upset about the loss of my testicles. Robin and I were not permitted to have erections anyway, either around Teddy or Her Majesty, or even the customers of the club. We were only permitted to have erections in the privacy of our room, alone or together. But, the love Robin and I felt for each other was strictly platonic, as they say, so losing our balls meant nothing to us. It may have meant something to the Army, but I didn't care about that anymore, anyway.

We learned during the ride home that, in our absence, Her Majesty and Teddy had closed the club for renovations, primarily to add a second room in the back, so we could both service customers at the same time, if such a need ever arose. We also learned that Teddy had planned a big homecoming for us, and that the regular customers were very excited about seeing "the new us." We were just glad to be back.

When we arrived at Queen Mary's, we went immediately to our room upstairs. There we found several packages on the bed, wrapped in colorful paper with ribbons attached. Eagerly, we opened them, tearing the paper and scattering it all over the floor. What we found out was that somebody, Teddy probably, or maybe even Her Majesty, had purchased some new outfits for us. We now had lovely long-line bras, heavily boned, to replace our corsets. They were black, with red lace trimming the edges. They were designed to hold our breasts up, but exposed above the nipple. As snug as the cups were, we knew our breasts would bounce and jiggle noticeably. We could picture our customer base increasing dramatically. We were also given new waitress uniforms, to accommodate our new appendages. These looked like dance hall girl costumes in the cowboy movies, with heavily starched crinolines causing the short, short skirt to flare out almost horizontally. We knew we would have to be extremely careful when bending over not to expose our naked cocks and asscheeks. We were still pantieless. Some things never change.

We spent the entire afternoon preparing ourselves for our "coming out" party. Every detail of our dress and makeup was carefully attended to. Finally, the big moment came. At four o'clock, as usual, the club opened. This being a Friday, there was a fairly good-sized crowd waiting outside for the doors to open. Queen Mary's had a Friday happy hour from four 'til six, so there was always a gang of guys waiting for the doors to open. These were the neighborhood drinkers, and only a handful were gay. But, they knew the club, and they knew us, and they had no problem with waitresses who were drag queens. The talk was lively, and the beer flowed freely; a sort of momentum was gathering as six o'clock neared.

That's when the serious Friday night crowd began arriving. These were the guys who showed up early, and started drinking and looking for partners for the night, or even for the weekend. They would gather in groups, sitting in the booths or at the bar, talking in low murmurs while eyeballing the guys sitting at other tables. Only occasionally would Robin or I get any action out of these guys. They weren't horny enough or frustrated enough yet to waste their sperm on a couple of drag queens.

But, by eight o'clock, the joint was jumpin'. This was the time when the hard party crowd would arrive, and by nine, after an hour of some serious drinking and ogling, Robin and I would start getting tips offered to us.

This night was no different than usual, except that maybe the crowd was a little bit noisier, and a lot friendlier. I guess they had missed us during our three week stay at the clinic. There was a hardly a moment that a hand wasn't rubbing my bare ass. And it seemed like I was making an awful lot of trips to the back room. It was strange having my tits fondled while I sucked some guy off; and, I noticed I got a lot more guys paying for a fuck, probably so they could play with my basketball boobs while they plowed my ass. Anyway, it was really exciting, and I must say I thoroughly enjoyed having my huge knockers mauled. I guess I was just a shameless whore.

About ten o'clock, Chuck and Al arrived. I saw them take a booth over in a corner. They were technically in Robin's territory, but I asked her if I could wait on them. After all, I hadn't seen them in several weeks. And I wanted to show off my new titties. (I am shameless!) So, I picked up my tray from the bar and wiggled my way past all the friendly hands, until I was standing before my two Army buddies, both of whose eyes were bulging out of their sockets. Finally, Chuck managed to open his mouth, "Holy shit, Stevie. What the fuck have you gone and done?"

I gave him a wink and a grin. "Like 'em?" I set the tray down and cupped them in my hands.

"Listen, I gotta talk to ya," said Chuck. "It's important. Real important."

"Well," I said, "let's go in the back room. We can talk for a little while in privacy there."

"Ok," he said, and slid a ten-dollar bill across the table. I held up one finger for Teddy to see, and he nodded that it was ok. While Chuck made his way to the back room, I carried the ten to Teddy. After giving him the money, I hurried across the dance floor and entered the back room, just as Chuck was closing the door.

I was feeling sexy, probably from all the attention I'd been getting, so I sidled up to Chuck and ran my fingers through his crewcut. "Miss me?" I purred, and kissed his ear.

He groaned as I licked his ear. I took the zipper of his fly in my fingers and began to open it, thrusting my hand into his briefs and rubbing his cock. He kept groaning. Finally, he grabbed my hand and yanked it out of his pants. He pushed me away and began pacing the floor.

"What's the matter, Chuck?" I asked. "What's wrong?"

"Listen, Steve, you're in big trouble. Big trouble." He was having a hard time taking his eyes off my breasts.

"Well, I guess I will be when I go back to the base after my leave is over," I replied. "But, I'm planning to try again to get discharged, and, surely, once they see these -" (I pointed at my breasts) "- they'll have to let me out of the Army."

Chuck looked at me with genuine concern. "Where've you been the last three weeks, anyway?" he asked.

"Well, Robin and I went away to have this breast surgery," I said. "Why?"

"You haven't heard, then?"

"Heard what?"

"Vietnam," he said.

"What about Vietnam?"

"The President and the Congress ordered a huge buildup over there. Right after you left on your leave."

"So what?"

"We've been ordered to go over there."

"What?"

"Yeh, right after you took off to go on leave, the word came down. All leaves were cancelled. We're shipping out tomorrow. Man, I been looking for you for three weeks. You're AWOL, little buddy."

"What?"

"And, if you ain't on that plane tomorrow? Well, then, technically, you're a deserter."

"What?"

I sat down on the cot and put my head in my hands. I was having trouble comprehending the enormity of what Chuck was telling me. Here I was, having decided to adopt this new lifestyle, to become a drag queen, sometime waitress and whore, and to get out of the Army as soon as I possibly could. My plan had seemed so simple. Surely, once they saw how serious I was, saw the results of my surgery, they would just let me go. But, now, I faced this whole new dilemma and it was going to complicate things enormously. Deserter! How could that be? Didn't they shoot deserters? What had I done to deserve that?

Vietnam? I didn't even know where it was.

I started to cry. My life was over. I couldn't go to Vietnam, not looking the way I did. But, if I refused, I'd be shot for deserting. Chuck sat down beside me, and began rubbing my back. He placed his arm over my shoulder and pulled me into him. I continued sobbing in despair as he held me close, purring in my ear.

Weird. Perverse. I noticed his fly was still open, and his prick was still outside his briefs. Even though I had sunk to the pit of despair, I was unable to resist reaching over with my hand and covering his cock, fondling it gently as he rubbed the back of my neck. I could feel his penis stiffening in my hand as I continued crying and sniffling. Then, before I knew it, I had slipped onto the floor on my knees, and was kissing the head of his cock. He groaned as I slipped his prick into my mouth, luxuriating in the silky feel and the growing warmth of his delightful member. I began slowly running my lips up and down his rapidly-growing pole, savoring the taste of the lubricant dripping from the expanding eye of his pee-hole. I could tell he was getting excited, his prick twitching in my mouth. I began humping my mouth up and down the length of his dick, sensing he was about to come. And then, in a rush of pure emotion, he exploded, and his cum splattered into my throat. Just then, the door to the room opened, and I could hear stamping feet. It sounded like a herd of buffalo had entered the room.

Chuck pushed my head off his pecker and tried to stand. But he fell on the bed again, since I was blocking his way. I looked over my shoulder, and saw three men in Army uniforms, with armbands on their left arms. MPs. My life was over.

They stood me up and informed me I was under arrest for being AWOL. In all the confusion, with all the yelling and shoving as they wrestled me out the door and out of the club, I remember thinking to myself, "At least they won't shoot me, 'cause I'm not a deserter."

They brought me back to base in handcuffs, and threw me into a private cell. Later on, someone brought a uniform over from my barracks, and I was told to put it on. Of course, my shirt no longer fit, because of my breasts. But, I managed somehow to button it up, in spite of that.

EPILOGUE

My attorney is having a hard time understanding any of this. How can he? He has no frame of reference. I no longer fear being shot by the Army. He has assured me that nothing like that will happen. But, he is afraid they might send me to prison for awhile.

My concern is: which prison? If I'm sent to a men's prison, I won't last a day. I'll be cut up for dogmeat. But what about a women's prison? I still have a penis. I'm still more or less a male. Even without my balls, they'll never let me in a women's jail.

Chuck is already in Vietnam, and has written me a letter. He's in Saigon with a headquarters company, dispensing supplies all over the place. He says he's already found people like Robin and me. He's also discovered marijuana. Evidently, they sell a very good grade of it over there. His advice to me is, "You and Robin should come on over. You'd live like royalty. They love drag queens! And the booze is great! And the joints we smoke look like Havana cigars! You two would love this place. Believe it."

Vietnam. How could this obscure little country in this place so far away from me have such a devastating effect on my life? I can't begin to understand it. My life is ruined because the government wants to fight a war in this godforsaken backwater. It makes no sense at all.

Robin visits whenever she can. We have a good cry and she promises me that my friends from Queen Mary's will be waiting to welcome me home when my ordeal is done.

My attorney is hoping the Army will just say the hell with it and give me a general discharge. They'd love to throw the book at me, but they don't know which book applies.

I can only say this: I love the life I have found for myself. I will endure whatever the Army gives me, and I will return to Queen Mary's when my punishment is at an end.

I will always be grateful to Chuck for seeing in me what I had never seen in myself. I hope he gets back from Vietnam in one piece (I hear that a lot of people aren't). And I look forward to the day when Robin and I will be able to enjoy our friendship again. And I can be home at Queen Mary's, working for Teddy again.

The End