There's Something About Sarah By Michele Nylons
Chapter Five – Redemption
Tina and I, rightly in my opinion anyway, decided that we wouldn't move in together. Sure, we would save on rent if we did, but the temptation to constantly give into our urges would undoubtedly distract me from my studies and Tina from her work. Also our relationship was volatile, there were periods of serenity when I thought I might be in love with Tina but they were interspersed with brief spells when we argued and fought furiously.
I wanted to keep my trans identity a secret and also our relationship secret from Steve Soderman and Lucy Bellows which angered Tina.
"What are you ashamed of Sarah? That you have a transsexual girlfriend or that you yourself are trans?" she screeched at me one evening when we got into it.
We were sitting in a booth at Bendy Wendy's both having consumed too much alcohol.
"You know why! I've told you my life story! I'm not like you, I've been raised as a girl since I was five. I feel like I am a girl," I hissed back at her.
"Well you weren't very ladylike last night when you stuck your cock in my ass and fucked me `til I screamed!" she retorted.
"Shh! For fuck sake Tina why don't you just climb on the table and scream it out!"
"What are you worried about? That your little college buddies are gonna find out that you're a fake!" she seethed.
"Fuck you!" I hissed back at her.
"Fuck you too!" Tina replied.
We both stewed in Tina's little red Mini Cooper on the way home; you could have cut the tension with a knife.
As soon as we got inside the door of my apartment it started again.
I went to the kitchen, clattering and banging about, pouring myself a double shot of bourbon.
"You're such a child sometimes Sarah!" Tina hadn't told me her exact age but I figured her to be in her late twenties or early thirties.
She still hadn't told me much about her past or even about her current life and I was getting pissed with her secrecy as much as she was getting pissed with me keeping my own secret about being a trans woman.
"And you can be such a hag!" I spat back at her.
"Fucking Ice Princess; that name suits you, you uptight primadonna!" she was leaning against the door and obviously hadn't decided whether to stay or leave.
"Don't you fucking-well call me that!" I strode over and confronted her.
"Ice Princess!" she taunted me.
"Fag hag!" I spat back.
Tina's hand shot out and slapped my face.
"You cunt!" I made to strike her back but she stopped my hand short of her face, gripping my wrist tightly. I had the drink in my hand and I spilled some of the bourbon on her decolletage.
Tina was wearing a low-cut black cocktail dress.
"You clean that up you bitch!" she twisted my wrist and pulled my face into her bosom.
Tina was a lot stronger than I and as I struggled against her more of the drink spilled on both of us both as we wrestled with each other. My face was pressed to her firm breasts and I inhaled the sweet smell of her perfume mingled with bourbon and her perspiration.
I was becoming aroused as I always did when I was this close to her and I licked at her mounds. Her arms wrapped around me.
"That's it you brat; clean up the mess you made," she taunted me.
I took the scoop-neck of her tight-fitting dress in my teeth and wrenched it; tearing the bodice and exposing her perfect alabaster globes supported in the lacy black half-cups of her bra.
"Bitch!" she howled and pressed my face back into her bosom. I pressed my body against her and lapped at her breasts.
She whimpered and I felt her stiffen against me. She too was becoming aroused. Her hand snaked down and I felt her nails rake against my thigh as she fumbled for the hem of my dress. Her other hand squeezed between our bodies and clutched the neckline of my red evening dress.
She ripped my dress open from neck to waist.
"Whore!" I hissed and bit down on her nipple.
"Cunt!" she raked her fingers across my little titties and tweaked my nipple.
I lifted my face to hers and crushed her lips with mine; she bit my lip and I tasted blood.
Her hands found my buttocks and clutched and squeezed them, digging her fingers into my haunches.
I moaned and she shredded my skirt, leaving it in tatters. Her tongue darted into my mouth as her fingers explored the crevice inside my red satin panties. She found the tape and ripped away my gaff and my hard penis sprang forth.
She caressed the bulge through my panties and I moaned again and my face fell to her soft mounds and devoured them. I licked her creamy tits and then her dark areoles and swollen nipples. She held my face to her breasts as I suckled and nibbled her nipples.
Tina was panting with lust and she gripped my engorged staff and freed it from my panties and stroked it.
"Oh god!" I moaned.
I was standing on my high-heels my dress ripped to tatters, my stockings, panties and bra fully exposed as I pressed Tina against the door, slavering at her tits. Her dress was ripped open at the top and I pulled it down over her shoulders and down to her waist; she struggled to free her arms and when she did her hand found my erection again and began to squeeze it.
"Cunt!" I gasped and crushed my lips to hers.
"Whore!" she hissed into my mouth.
I yanked her dress down all the way and it puddled at her feet. My fingers found her gossamer-clad thighs and raked them, tattering the nylon. I wrenched off her lacy black panties and ripped the crotch out of her pantyhose.
Tina guided my cock between her legs; she wasn't gaffed or taped and her own turgid member sprang free. She pressed back against the door and lifted her legs up around my waist as my hands gripped her buttocks and supported her weight. She lowered herself onto my rampant member and I pushed up and buried myself in her to the hilt. She had pre-lubricated, anticipating sex that evening.
"Fuck me you bitch!" she gasped and began to ride my engorged phallus.
I gripped her backside and eased her up and down; she clenched and unclenched her anus, her tight passage spasming.
She put her arms around my neck to support her weight and kissed me harder. I held her tightly against me, her buttocks in my hands and I walked her over the couch and knelt down whilst still inside her. I tipped her onto the couch and she opened her legs and raised her haunches as I fell between her thighs.
"I fucking hate you," I panted as I fucked her.
"I fucking hate you too," she gazed up into my eyes; her face contorted with lust.
I lowered my face to hers and savagely kissed her as I fucked her as hard as I could.
She lifted her ass up off the couch to meet my thrusts and I could feel her hard cock leaking pre-cum on my belly. She wrapped her legs around me and raked my flanks with her heels.
We fucked like animals until I couldn't hold back any longer and exploded deep inside her. Her own emission scalded my belly as we jackhammered against each other, our lips crushed together, screaming muffled expletives into each others' mouths.
I lay on top of her when we had finished; our makeup ruined and our bodies sweaty. We were both panting. I could feel that she was still hard against my belly despite having just come. I wondered how she managed to do that.
"You ruined my dress and fucked up my best pantyhose," she smiled up at me when we caught our breath.
"Back at you; except I'm wearing stockings," I grinned at her.
"Get off me you galoot! I need to pee," she said impudently and made a face.
"Sure why not...I've finished with you anyhow," I mocked her.
I extracted myself from her and stood up, quivering on my heels with exsertion.
Tina shot up from the lounge and pushed me in the back propelling towards the bed on my tottering heels.
"Well I haven't finished with you bitch!" she squealed as she pushed me face down on the bed.
She fell on top of me and entered me with one thrust. I gasped at the pain but it soon turned to delight. I too was pre-lubricated and I was soon pushing back to meet her thrusts. We fucked for what seemed like an eternity until I felt Tina grind against me as she emptied herself deep in my anus. She squeezed and stroked my penis and milked me of my seed as I ejaculated onto the bedspread.
And so it went; our volatile relationship continued for another four months. And then, three months shy of my eighteenth birthday, Tina's secret was revealed.
Tina had told me that she worked `behind camera' in the film industry but had never elaborated. I assumed she was a makeup artist or some sort of assistant. Neither Steve nor Lucy seemed to know either.
"She does what she does and makes damn good money; why should you care?" Lucy once said to me when I pressed her about it.
"You too aren't...you know?" she smiled cheekily at me and slid a finger in and out of the loosely clenched fingers of her other hand.
"Hell no!" I blushed.
"Well you can understand me wondering; Tina does have that little extra," she grinned.
"You know she's trans?" I asked.
"Shit honey, Wendy and I once made very good use of her extra appendage if you know what I mean," she winked at me.
Tina's secret was revealed to me one Friday when I had the afternoon free of classes and was out window shopping. I had drifted the streets not heading anywhere in particular and I happened on an Adult store. Tina and I were going through one of our better phases and I got the idea that I might surprise her by purchasing an amusing sex toy. I had been around the city long enough that I was no longer a naive farm girl and being a semi-regular at Bendy Wendy's had certainly opened my eyes.
The shop was just how I expected it to be; dark and dingy. There were rows of magazines and VHS video tapes and a long glass fronted counter held an amazing array of sex toys.
A middle aged couple was at the counter and a pale insipid balding man with a ponytail was attending to them. I decided to pretend to browse the video library until the couple left. The videos were arranged by classification with handwritten cards tacked to the shelves proclaiming: `Hetero, Lesbian, Gay, Fetish and Tranny'.
Of course I had to check out the tranny' section just out of curiosity. The rack containing the tranny' videos held four shelves of tapes stacked with the just the spines showing their titles. The rack at eye level had another poorly written sign `New Releases' where the front of the cases was on display. And it was there I stood transfixed. I lifted one of the cases from the shelf and stared at it.
`TRANNY AT THE TRUCK STOP. A film by Devon Devine. Based on a short story my Michele Nylons and starring Tina Morecock, Cody Hardrod, Rory Longmember and Vin Shooter. When a tranny gets caught in a truck stop restroom and is confronted by three horny bikers she knows there is only one way to escape their wrath!'
The title was written in garish yellow capitals with the synopsis poorly printed in small black text. But it was the picture on the cover that had me riveted.
An attractive transsexual woman was on her knees on the filthy tiled floor of a public bathroom dressed only in a bustier, black stockings and high heels. Her makeup was smudged and black mascara streaked her cheeks as if she had been crying but her face was lustful as she sucked on the glans of a grinning, naked, well-muscled man. Another man knelt behind her with his penis buried in her ass; his face a picture of lust. The third man was kneeling beside her and she was masturbating him. The jacket cover picture was obviously a `still' from the movie.
The elfin faced Transsexual with piercing green eyes, tiny nose, red lips, short jet black hair and alabaster skin was Tina. My Tina.
"Fuck!" I whispered and the customers and the clerk glanced my way.
"I'm in the film industry, but nothing glamorous; I'm behind the camera," Tina's words echoed through my mind.
"You lying cunt!" I whispered again and this time I received a scornful look of disdain from the other three.
I strode over to the counter and slammed the video cassette case down on the counter.
"How much!" I demanded.
"Excuse me miss! These customers were here first!" the proprietor huffed.
The fat balding guy and his equally fat, lank-haired wife looked me up and down lasciviously.
"Nah. Let the frat chick buy her video man," the guy said.
"Hey honey; if you wanna play we are into threesomes," he nodded at the cassette cover.
"How much," I said to the clerk, a little more conciliatory this time.
"Fifteen bucks plus tax," he replied and opened a huge drawer full of tapes. Selected one and slammed it in the cover.
I ignored the fat couple and slapped a twenty on the counter and then snatched up my change and the VHS tape. I spun on my heels and walked out.
"Hey miss prissy; if you ever change your mind you know where you can find us," the fat guy called after me.
I was seething with anger as I stormed home and when I got there I slammed the tape into my VCR and hit play. I snatched my bottle of bourbon off the counter, flicked off the screw-cap and drank deeply as I fast forwarded the tape through the movie trailers and the title credits. When the name Tina Morecock scrolled up the screen I pressed play.
"Fucking bitch!" I wailed.
Halfway through the movie at the scene where Tina was being gangbanged by the bikers I couldn't watch it anymore and I froze it and curled up in a ball on the carpet, hugging the half-drunk bottle.
That was how Tina found me about half an hour later.
She looked at the screen and paled and then she looked at me. I began to sob.
"I can explain Sarah. You don't know what its like being me," she whispered.
I shook my head; tears flying from my face.
Tina turned, walked to the door and left. And that was that. Until...
A telegram arrived about three months later; about a week before my birthday.
`Regret to inform you of the passing of Amanda Grayson. Funeral will be held on the 3rd of this month with will reading next day. Please attend if you possibly can. My sympathy and love are with you at this painful time.'
There was no indication of whom it was from. Once I had recovered from the shock I figured it had to be Sloane; who else could it be?
Tina picked up the phone on the second ring.
"Amanda died," was all I could utter around my uncontrollable sobs.
Tina arrived at my apartment thirty minutes later. She let herself in and said nothing. She took me over to the bed, lay next me, and held me while I cried. I wept my heart out for the best part of an hour then I looked up at her perfect face through tear-rimmed eyes.
"I have no one else to turn to," I whimpered.
"I know babe," she stroked my forehead.
"Will you come to the funeral with me?" I begged her.
"Of course I will," she smiled at me wanly.
We flew to Austin and rented a car; on the plane we didn't say much but we did hold hands whenever I had a crying jag. The jags were becoming less frequent and I was starting to think better. I was still at a loss as to who had sent the telegram and how they knew where I was, I could only think that Sloane had somehow tracked me down. I was also now thinking about how I was going to play things when I arrived home.
It was time to tell Tina the truth. We picked up a cheap rental at Austin airport and hit the road.
"I didn't tell you everything," I whispered to Tina as we left the city and hit the freeway.
"Well yeah? As if I'm not also guilty of that," Tina gave me a genuine smile for the first time since I asked her for help.
I found that telling the truth while driving the car was easier; I didn't have to look at Tina nor could I become too emotional because I was concentrating on the road.
"My upbringing wasn't quite the flowery tale I told you. Yes I was raised as girl from the time I went to live with Amanda and Sloane but it wasn't happy families."
First I told her about my devotion to Sloane and how as we grew older Sloane became jealous and vindictive. I explained how Amanda pretty much freelanced as a whore and gave Sloane everything and I took the castoffs and hand me downs.
I told her about falling in love with Drew Carter and he with me, and I told her how I withheld from Drew the most important secret I had.
"Oh honey," I felt the heartfelt sympathy in Tina's voice.
"Please don't interrupt Tina I have to tell you everything and I'm pretty sure I can only ever do this once," I saw Tina nod in my peripheral vision.
Then I told her about the Prom. About how happy I was and how Amanda and Sloane were also so happy for me. Then I told her what happened at the Prom.
And then I told her how Bing Holthouse, Bobby Fillay, Ben Mowbray and Gerry Kershaw assaulted and humiliated me, how Drew drove away and how Amanda pretty much bribed me to leave.
I forced myself to glance at Tina. She was staring at the road ahead but tears were streaming down her cheeks.
She took my hand off the wheel and kissed it.
"My poor baby," she whimpered.
"It's ok Tina. I'm past it all. We have some mending to do and I'm sure there is more in your past that I don't know about and I was wrong to judge you without letting you explain," I replied.
"But right now I have to think about how I'm going to handle the god awful mess ahead of me. As much as Amanda treated me as subservient to Sloane, I was still her little girl and she loved me and I am going to that goddamn funeral."
And so we talked tactics during the long drive and eventually we hatched a plan.
We checked into the Holiday Inn Express taking separate rooms. We grabbed takeout, beer and a bottle of Jack and talked for a little while but we were both tired and went to bed early sleeping in our own hotel rooms. We weren't ready to start sleeping together again yet.
The next day was the funeral and I woke early and drank coffee and smoked for most of the morning; Tina joined me later having slept in. We went to our rooms to get ready in the early afternoon.
I had filled out a little since I left my home town; I wasn't fat by any means but I had developed curves and except for having tiny breasts would have been voluptuous. I admired myself in the mirror and got to work. I applied foundation, powder, black eyeliner and mascara and mahogany eyeshadow so my eye makeup was dark to emphasise my green eyes. I rouged my high cheekbones and brushed out my brunette bob and applied hairspray. I finished with bright red lipstick.
I carefully gaffed and slipped a black garter belt around my waist and slid black fully-fashioned nylon stockings up my legs, clipped them in place and adjusted the seams then stepped into a pair of tight black satin panties. I had a matching brassiere and on this rare occasion I affixed a pair of C-cup latex breastforms to my chest. I put on my bra and adjusted it and then stepped into a black nylon half-slip.
I had purchased a black dress before leaving Berkeley and it was laid out on the bed. It was cotton-spandex and form-fitting. The dress had long sleeves of black lace; the hem rested just above my knees. I put it on and adjusted it; fussing to get it just right especially around my unfamiliar large breasts. I stepped into a pair of black patent-leather high heels and checked myself out in the mirror and then sprayed myself liberally with perfume and accessorised.
I hardly recognised myself and I doubted anyone from around here would recognise me once I put on my wide-brimmed black felt hat with the veil netting which would partly screen my face.
Tina was dressed similar to me but not identical and she wore no hat or gloves.
"One for the road girlfriend?" she poured us both a double shot of Jack Daniel's.
"To us," we clinked glasses and swallowed the shot.
I poured us another.
"To Amanda; may she rest in peace," we clinked again and swallowed our shots.
"Don't get teary on me Sarah you look stunning and you don't wanna ruin your makeup," Tina smiled at me.
"No fucking tears today Tina. Today is for me to say goodbye and fuck those other motherfuckers!" I sneered.
"Wow! Ok lets go Sarah, we want to be fashionably late but we don't want to miss anything," she jiggled the car keys at me and nodded at our Pinto.
We took a beer each for the road and stopped briefly at a florist and set off for the cemetery.
The funeral was the sort of fiasco only Sloane could have organised. We parked on the cemetery service road behind the funeral procession which, except for the hearse, consisted mostly of beat up pickups and muscle cars; real southern-white-trash-mobiles. A crowd of people stood around an open grave, the mound of dirt beside it covered with cheap green felt, a yellow front-end loader was parked on the opposite service road, the driver smoking and waiting patiently to fill the hole. Very classy.
Most of the folk were dressed in black but a few of the men wore bluejeans and button up shirts with ties that didn't match, and poorly polished shoes; their best effort at funeral attire. I was surprised at the turnout but it's a small town and almost everyone goes to a funeral around here.
The day was cool but the sky was bright blue and without a cloud and the sun was high; a real West Texas spring day. It was a little over a year since I had left.
Tina and I stepped carefully though the weed and rock-strewn graveyard and approached the small crowd, our heads held high, each clutching a single red rose. The Minister was espousing the virtues that guaranteed eternal life. To the best of my memory Amanda possessed few of them.
As we got closer I could make out faces in the crowd. Sloane stood at the head of the grave looking worse for wear. She was dressed in a nice black dress but she had a runner in one of her nylons, her makeup was smudged and her hair dishevelled. She had the beginnings of a beer belly and her ass was definitely bigger than when I had left; it was spiteful I know but I smiled inwardly. It was obvious even from this far away that she was drunk.
That sleazeoid Billy Kettering was dressed in a poorly fitting, hand-me-down, black suit that was frayed at the cuffs and lapels. He was holding Sloane's arm and when she burst into an obviously feigned crying jag he assisted her into a green camp chair, of which there were three rows set either side of the grave.
As Tina and I approached a number of mourners looked our way and quite a few of them stared. I stumbled briefly when I caught sight of Bing Holthouse and his asshole friends grouped together to one side of the crowd. They made no effort to hide their salacious stares and nudged each other with their elbows, smirking and whispering undoubtedly lewd comments in each other's ears as they passed a hip flask around. To them we were just two `hot babes' to be lusted over.
Tina caught my elbow and steadied me just as the Minister gave the group of ruffians a stern look and harrumphed, directing their attention back to the service.
I could see Sloane staring at us with a mixture of stupefaction, envy, and anger. I knew her too well. She was supposed to be the star of the show; not these two big-city interlopers. She would be wondering why two well-dressed strange women were at her mother's funeral.
We arrived at the gravesite just as the Minister directed everyone to be seated and we took two seats in the back row. Throughout the rest of the service inquisitive heads turned our way but decorum prevented them from staring too long. I ignored everyone else and lowered my head and listened to the sermon, thinking of my Aunt Amanda, how she could be so cruel and yet sometimes so kind to me.
Sloane gave a eulogy that wasn't all that bad but she mumbled and stammered through most of it. Of course there was no mention of me.
After the last prayer had been said the minister invited those so inclined to say their goodbyes to Amanda and to pay their respects to her surviving daughter. I stood up and got in line. With my head down the black net veil obstructed my sight a little but when my time came I strode purposely forward and kissed Sloane on the cheek.
"I'm sorry for your loss; may you take comfort in knowing she is in a better place," I whispered.
Sloane looked at me with amazement and stood speechless beside the grave.
I lifted my veil, stepped forward and dropped the single red rose on the coffin.
The crowd began to murmur and mutter amongst themselves as a few of them recognised me. I paid them no notice and said a silent prayer over the grave, then I lowered my veil and walked away with my head held high.
"Yeah; you get out of here freak!" someone, most likely one of Bing's buddies, murmured.
"Shame on you! That girl has as much right to grieve as anyone else here," I heard a matronly voice shush the crowd but I didn't look back.
Tina fell in step beside me as we strode away from the grave towards our car.
"You ok girl?" she turned to me.
"I'm fine honey; fuck them all," I smiled back at her.
We got into the car and Tina had just started the engine when a woman came running towards us. She was better dressed than most of the mourners and was having trouble running in her high heels. As she got closer I realised it was Lizzie Sanders, my best friend from high school.
"Here we go. The abuse begins," I said.
Lizzie knocked on my window and I wound it down expecting a tirade. Instead I was rewarded with a smile.
"Sarah Grayson! Don't you look all grown up and citified!" she grinned.
"Everyone was wondering what happened to you. There's rumours you went abroad or that you became a model in New York. Some nasty people said that you were a drug addict and working as a lap dancer in Austin," she grinned.
I smiled peakedly.
"I thought most of you wished I was dead after the Prom."
"You hush now! Except for the redneck brigade, and there ain't that many really, everybody in town was downright disgusted by what happened to you at the Prom. Sure we were all shocked but jeez, we all grew up with Sarah Grayson and that's who we love. What you was before then ain't nobody's business but your own," she replied.
"You're actually quite the celebrity around here; there's people claiming to be your best friend who never knew you from Adam and they claim they knew all along that you was different."
"Amanda stood up at the town meeting after you left and gave the audience an earful! Said them that scorned you were intolerant hillbillies who had no brains and no compassion. The town council passed a resolution honoring you as an `Esteemed Daughter' of our little shire."
"You're joking!" I was amazed.
"Look, let me tell you all about it. We're having a wake in Amanda's honor at the `Dew Drop Inn'; come along and bring your friend," Lizzie beamed at both of us.
"I don't know Lizzie; Sloane doesn't seem too happy to see me and some of the mourners seemed quite upset that I'm here," I replied.
"Oh pish! That was just Bobby Fillay being his stupid intolerant self; most around here will be glad to see you and keen to hear about what became of our own Ice Princess," she reached in and playfully punched my shoulder.
I blushed at the mention of that name and turned to Tina. She had a look of concentration on her face and I could almost hear the wheels turning over in her brain. She looked at me and smiled.
"Fuck it Sarah; let's go. Nothing bad is going to happen to you there I promise," Tina said.
"And I promise too! I'll make sure you're surrounded my friends," Lizzie grinned.
"And Sloane?" I asked.
"Oh piss on Sloane. Most of the town hasn't forgiven her for what she did to you. Look; most of your old friends are in college now and are only back in town for the funeral; let's catch up," Lizzie beamed encouragement.
"As my learned colleague beside me just said...Fuck it! Let's go!" I beamed back at her.
"That's my old girlfriend; see you at six o'clock then," Lizzie turned away and I'm sure she skipped rather than walked down the road.
To be continued...
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Michele Nylons ???????? michelenylons@msn.com