Marvin was astute enough to realise it was one of those sorts of air lock arrangements. You opened the door from the corridor, and you could not open the second door into the room beyond until the first door had closed, and that fact had been registered by the second door. It flashed through his mind that, if the second door didn’t open when it should, he could be caught prisoner in that small two metres square of space. Potentially it could be a more alarming situation than being trapped in a lift. At least, in a lift there should be an emergency button to press.
Of course, Marvin was only alerted to the door configuration when he tried the second door before the first door had automatically swung closed, and there was a click of confirmation. The little light above the handle of the second door did not turn from red to green until the first door’s manoeuvre had been completed.
That little demonstration was a precursor to Marvin having a big shock. Without doubt it would be, and remain, the shock of his life.
As if celebrating mastery of the door locking system Marvin threw open the second door as though he were its master and commander and strode on in the room beyond. It was there he faltered. This was not the destination he had intended. A room full of women in various stages of undress? This was obviously not the offices of The Tideswell Insurance Company Ltd.
The nearest woman looked up from the magazine she was studying and gave him a warm and encouraging smile, but before she could utter a word Marvin had turned tail. But the door he had just emerged from had no handle – no means of opening. The man could feel his face colouring in acute embarrassment.
“It’s alright Marvin,” said a soothing voice, now from behind him. “You’ve come to the right place.”
Those words set off a different set of alarm bells in the poor young man’s head. “What was she on about? How the hell did she know his name? What the fuck was going on?” He turned round keeping his eyes directly on the face of the woman with the magazine whom he thought, whom he hoped, was the owner of the words directed at him. His peripheral visit had sited a young woman a little beyond who was not only naked to the waist but was sporting a gorgeous pair of breasts. “I’ve come to the wrong room.”
“No, no, Marvin, you haven’t. We are expecting you.”
“I’m looking to arrange some insurance for my car. You’re not telling me this is the Tideswell insurance company?” Marvin allowed his eyes to wander upwards a shade to be rewarded with a second view of those lovely tits.
“My name is Julia Jackson,” said the woman, closing her magazine and putting it bag in a pile of other mags. “You can call me Julia. I am to be your guide and mentor for the next year.”
“My guide and mentor?” What the fuck do you mean?” demanded Marvin, forgetting his manners. “You’ve got the wrong guy and I’ve come to the wrong place.”
“You are Marvin Richie of 32 Coalville Road, Spondon, Derbyshire. Aged twenty-six, unattached and with homosexual leanings?”
“Who says I have homosexual leanings?” wailed Marvin falling right in the trap Julie had set for him.
“So, you are whom I said you are? We have established you are the right person?”
“That’s as maybe except I don’t have homosexual tendencies.” Marvin was aware he was probably protesting too much and by so doing giving his accuser more confidence about the accuracy of the accusation.
“We’ll be able to establish your true sexual orientation in due course, Marvin. Please sit down and allow me to take some notes.”
“Just open the fucking door and let me out of here,” Marvin hissed. “You have no right to make a prisoner of me.”
“Have you been feeling well this last month Marvin, or have you felt strange and having disturbing dreams?” quizzed Julia, ignoring the protests.
Marvin found himself lowering into the chair set out for him opposite his interviewer. “What are you saying?”
“Are you at odds with your body?”
“How do you know?”
“And the dreams?”
“Yes. Very vivid.”
“With a strong sexual element?”
Marvin felt himself blush. “Maybe.”
Having established that the drugs he had been given covertly were apparently having the required effect, Julia felt confident she could close the trap. The girl behind her was still flashing her fantastic chest but Marvin had lost interest in her right then. His concentration was fully on Julia. “You have been selected,” smile Julia mysteriously.”
“I’ve been selected? “What the fuck does that mean?”
“The configuration of your genes fits our target population. We have plans for you.”
“What plans? I don’t understand. Who are you?” Marvin waved his hand taking in the whole room. “What is all this about?”
“We’ll explain soon enough.” Unseen by the unsuspecting Marvin, Julia pressed one of three buttons hidden under her desk. “Would you like a drink? A cup of coffee perhaps? Or something stronger?”
A whisky might have helped to steady Marvin’s nerves, but Marvin shook his head and waved away the offer with his hand. “I just want you to let me out of here, please.” His plea was close to a whine.
“Please Marvin, don’t distress yourself. You’re on the edge of a fantastic adventure.”
That was not the way Marvin saw his future. His eyes caught the approach of two burly women wending their way across the room, their eyes set in his direction. There was no doubt in Marvin’s mind that they were coming to get him. The sense of panic he felt at that moment almost loosened his bladder. “Please, please, Julia, let me go,” he pleaded.
The young woman felt some sympathy for him and placed, what was meant to be, a comforting hand on Marvin’s arm. “You’ll love it. You’ll see.”
There was no outward indication that Marvin had heard her. His face was screwed up like a child in pain and about to cry. The two minders, big women with chunky bodies and hair tied back in severe ponytails, stood in their black track suits, towering over Marvin, their groins close to his face. Their faces were expressionless. One looked at Julia presumably waiting for an order, whilst her companion had eyes only for their would-be prisoner.
“This is Marvin, ladies. He is our latest recruit, but he is not yet totally convinced he wants to join us. Keep him close as you escort him over to Doctor Judd. She will have use for your services to I expect.”
She turned to face Marvin. “Go with these ladies Marvin and don’t make a fuss. You don’t want everyone in the room to see you make an idiot of yourself. Many of the people here will likely become your friends over time. And we will see a lot more of each other; you and me that is.”
Suddenly the debilitating panic that had seen the man virtually quaking in his shoes turned into a huge outburst of energy and anger and fear mixed. “No, no, let me out of here,” Marvin shouted as loud as he possibly could as he struggled against the woman guard’s intentions to secure his arms. He waved his fists in the air and landed a kick on the ankles of one of the guards. She let out a cry of pain that transfixed those in the room who had hitherto been oblivious to Marvin’s machinations. Janet joined the fight to secure the young man and received a fist into the side of her face for her pains. The second guard searched for a truncheon secured in the waistband of her track suit and, finding it, awarded Marvin with a sharp crack on the side of his skull. The result? All the fight was knocked out of the young protestor.
He was half walked, and half dragged across the room. The faces that watched were a mixture of sympathy, shock and amusement in equal part. Marvin was not to know that at least half of those gathered there had made that same journey, or something similar, themselves; mostly they had walked and were not unceremoniously dragged. The objective was a corner that resembled a First Aid Station. Waiting, ready with a loaded syringe in her hand, was Doctor Judd.
The sight of the doctor, thus armed, set Marvin off again with another aggressive attempt to escape. He managed to free his arm from one of the guards, turned and thumped the other hard in her jaw. The woman fell like a stone and let go her hold. Half free Marvin turned on the other guard. In the ensuing tussle the man nearly broke free but, as a frantic last-ditch manoeuvre, the guard threw out a hand and just managed to trip the would-be escapee. Marvin was almost back on his feet again when Doctor Judd launched herself and landed on Marvin’s back. She stuck the needle into him at any part of the man’s body that presented itself.
Marvin awoke slowly as did his memory return equally languidly. His eyes he kept tight shut lest his slow return to consciousness be noticed by his erstwhile pursuers. He soon registered he was not hearing the hubble-bubble of the room filled with people but just the irregular noise of traffic. From somewhere in the distance a clock chimed the hour. One — two — three — four. Four o’clock? Where had the day gone? His appointment with what he though was The Tideswell Insurance Company Ltd. Had been ten o’clock. Where had six hours disappeared to? Furthermore, he sussed he was lying naked under a sheet. That made him feel very vulnerable to say the least.
Then it occurred to Marvin that the sound of a clock striking outside, at some distance, was somewhat familiar. Wasn’t that the same Town Hall clock that he woke up to every morning just about? He opened one eye cautiously. Sure thing, he was lying in his own bed in his own flat. That was really something to freak out about. Surely the whole episode had not been just a super-horrible nightmare?
No. The dull thump of a headache was a first reminder. He had a few other pains and a funny, bunged-up sensation in his anus. What could that be? He opened his other eye as if that would solve the conundrum. Of course, it didn’t. He shifted his body for the first time since awakening, moving a hand round to feel between his legs. His fingers found something long and hard where his arsehole should be. An excuse for a moment of alarm until his senses recognised the safety end of a butt plug. Not plastic but metal.
Marvin waited awhile until he regained his composure then slipped a finger between the metal and his bum aiming to ease the appliance out of his rectum. He had used a butt plug before, several times in fact. Try as he might the thing would not budge. Lying in the position he was Marvin could not get the right sort of leverage and, besides, the whole area was slippery with lubricant. That had him onto the floor and into a half kneeling position where, from experience, he could hook two fingers, under the metal bar, either side of his anus, and draw the obtrusion out at the best angle.
A real struggle ensued and at one point Marvin was close to despair at his inability to remove it. Discomforting thoughts crossed his mind at having to appear at the Casualty Department in the local hospital and the ignominy that would generate. Such thoughts powered him on to where he felt close to doing permanent harm to his sphincter. What a relief when he endured the pain and finally achieved exerting sufficient pressure for the plug to pop out. The offending article was a large chromium plated, heart-shaped plug with a thin neck, and then a shaped to be housed in his crack and sufficient in size to prevent the plug itself disappearing inside the rectum. But for what reason had they stuffed such a big plug inside him? Or any plug come to that? Marvin could not dream up n answer to that question.
He checked his body over to see whether there were any other surprises to find. There was – one he easily spotted in the bathroom mirror. He was carrying what looked like a green tattoo of a Chinese dragon high up on his right arm. He remembered seeing identical dragons, although in different colours, on people’s arms in the big room 207. They could not be actual tattoos surely? The tattooing process would have needed the “wound” to be kept under a bandage for almost a week?
Marvin wet a facecloth and rubbed at the image. The thing was tenacious but eventually smudged, then gave way to bare skin. Marvin treated himself to a weak smile of triumph.
His briefcase came to mind. He had left that there with Julie Jackson. That was before he was dragged across the room by the two female heavies. There were important papers in there — especially important papers. Marvin’s blood ran cold. If he had lost them, he would be in deep shit with his employer. He would need to get back there now and just pray to God that they, and his briefcase were still there.
He strode back to his bedroom in order to retrieve his outdoor clothes and dress hurriedly, only to discover his briefcase standing meekly to one side. He tripped the lock, the bag fell open, and Marvin hastily checked the contents. He could find no discrepancies thank the Good Lord. Phew. His job was safe — for the moment at least.
Marvin tried weighing up the day over a bottle of red wine. Already it was sort of becoming surreal. Maybe it was the wine but the lines between what was real and what was his imagination were becoming blurred. Sitting in the safety of his flat with all his worldly possessions there about him, he started to doubt the accuracy of his memory. Wouldn’t it be better to forget the whole thing.? Write it off as if it never happened? Perhaps it never did? Why not climb into bed, have a comforting wank as he did most nights, and then drift off to sleep.
There became a new problem with that. Try as he might he could not get a sufficient hard-on. His penis simply seemed as though it did not want to play ball. Marvin slipped on a warm, thick cotton dressing gown and mooched back into the living area and directed his computer to a favoured porn channel. That never failed him — but it did that day. However much he tried he could not excite his penis much beyond a state of flaccidity. Now that did worry Marvin a lot.
A morning boner was assured; every morning without fail, even if he were nursing a fearful hangover. It was the prerogative of every young man, wasn’t it? Try as he might, there was little or no reaction. Now this he knew had something to do with the incident the day before. It just had to be.
Marvin telephoned through to his office and left a message saying he would be into work that morning a little later than planned. No problem there. He set off for the building he had been to the previous day. Up the steps from street level’ negotiating the revolving doors he entered the building as he had done the day. He glanced up at the directory board. Against unit 207 there was no longer displayed “The Tideswell Insurance Company Ltd”. In its place the display read “The Ecclesiastical Church of the Lady Saints”.
“Shit,” thought Marvin very much to himself. “These units or rooms are hired by the day.” He should have known. But then, how had gotten hold of the Tideswell name in the first place? It was a flyer put through his door. The one that offered the first six month’s cover free of charge. They must have known that his car insurance had lapsed.
Other memories started to filter through. Hadn’t that girl Julia said she was to be his guide and mentor for the next year? He would like to forget she said he had homosexual leanings, but only he was to know how true that observation was. Not that he was at all ready to admit it to himself. And what else did she say? “Something about being selected. Selected for what exactly?” And “you are at odds with your body and having disturbing dreams,” or something similar.
It was starting to make better sense, but with huge gaps in the interpretation. Marvin tried to pull himself together. He had thought he may as well check inside Unit 207, just to be on the safe side. He felt a little weak in the legs but nevertheless he chose the stairs rather than the lift. The door to 207 looked no different than it had done the day before but, as he pushed his way in it became obvious that the second door, the one he had had trouble with, was jammed open. He could see right through to a room filled with black ladies of every shape and size imaginable. The one thing they all seemed to have in common were the smiles on their faces. Obviously, the Lord was with them as they bent to do His words, not theirs. Marvin backed away hastily. None of their joy was about to rub off on him.
Back on the street, as if he were under surveillance, his mobile rang. “Julia Jackson here. How are you feeling today, Marvin?
“Pretty pissed off with you and your lot, Julia.”
“I am sorry about that,” responded the girl unconvincingly. “I’ve just rung up to remind you to insert the butt plug for at least two hours today and every day.”
“You what?” shouted Marvin with incredulity.
“Calm down Marvin. It’s part of the programme. It won’t go smoothly if you don’t obey the rules.”
“What rules? Whose rules? You’ve got a fucking cheek, Julia. You can all go to fucking hell…….”
“Just before you do anything stupid again, have a care. If you don’t obey our commands, then there will be some serious measures taken to keep you in line.”
“Oh yeh,” what might they be?” Marvin jeered even though he knew he was throwing caution to the wind.
“O.K., if you want proof, we’ll give you a small sample. It will be in your letterbox by teatime tonight. Now get that butt plug into your arse as soon as you get home.” Julia terminated the conversation abruptly.
Marvin had very many excuses for not being able to keep his mind entirely on his work, and now he had another. The suspense killed him. What could they possibly have that, put through his letterbox, would make him tow the line? That conundrum dogged him until he could not bear the suspense any longer. His workday finished at three o’clock by his own volition. Sure enough, there awaiting him, sitting within the mesh attached to his letter box, was a large brown envelope. He released it from its captivity and, without divesting himself of his street garments, he carried it to the kitchen table. He slit one end with a breakfast knife.
Five photographs fell out. There was no need for anymore. They were quite enough. One had him, eyes closed, face screwed up in anticipation, with a penis, not his, having already started to ejaculate. The location looked very much like a public toilet cubicle commonly found in English parks and the like. The second image had him on his knees sucking a black penis and the third the same penis presumably, squirting over Marvin’s face. The fourth was similar but the penis was white, and the last photo had him standing under some trees away from the toilet, as though he was waiting for some sort of opportunity of a pick-up.
Shit. Marvin knew where they were taken and, reference to the black man, exactly when; Bulyard Park toilets. They were a good ten miles from his home for the very reason he would not be recognised. And yet, there he was caught on a camera in the most revealing of all situations. He could deny he wasn’t gay until the cows came home – lie to others and even to himself, but here was the indisputable evidence to the contrary.
After a long period of thoughtful silence, Marvin went to the bathroom and sought out the huge chrome butt plug. This he carefully washed and dried. He raided the small jar of Vaseline and spread the grease liberally over the chrome. Dropping his trousers and boxers he squatted and located the tip of the plug right on target. He knew exactly what he was doing. He pushed hard, very hard, and the plug duly slipped into place and the rim of his anus contracted down to meet the stem of the plug.
He knew, that after a week or less, he would be able to fit and remove the plug with ever greater ease as the elasticity of his sphincter grew more. Just as he guessed that his near future was likely to involve a good deal of anal sex. The thought gave him a shiver in his loins that ordinarily would have him as hard as an ebony truncheon. His penis tried to obey the command to stand to attention but achieved only a pitiful twitch. Marvin was well and truly the fly in a spider’s web. How cruel was that?
Crueller still perhaps was Marvin having to watch and experience his body changing slowly, inexorably, day by day. Obediently he removed and replaced the butt plug for at least two hours until he almost forgot it was in place. His sphincter had given up the battle just like Marvin had it prophesized. So much so, in fact, that a text message from Julie advised that the fitting of it was no longer compulsory. Perversely, Marvin had gotten to getting some sexual pleasure having it in place and he wore it more frequently than he had been instructed to and for long periods.
From thereon he accepted the inevitable which, in turn opened the door to him almost welcoming his rapid evolving feminisation. He abandoned attempts to flatten his breasts each morning by binding them tight with cotton sheeting in order to try and fool his workmates. Instead, he half welcomed the day, when he could be justified in wearing a brassiere. He wore tights under his trousers and occasionally stockings. A couple of gay guys at work took a pronounced interest in him and, surprisingly, several straight acting blokes too. It seemed inevitable that his first office relationship was imminent.
As if his minders were aware of this Marvin was summoned to a weekend at a Tideswell gathering. After all, he had no other name for the group who were feminising him other than Tideswell. He had learned nothing about them at all in the month and more since he had made a fool of himself in room 207. His orders were simple. Go to Milton Keynes by train and take a taxi to a small village in Buckinghamshire. He had to be at The Greyhound pub by 6p.m. The orders came in an envelope containing £200 in cash. Marvin did not need the money, but he accepted it gratefully.
As the taxi pulled into the pub’s car park the driver was directed into a driveway round the back of the hostelry and which continued down an uneven lane for a quarter of a mile. There was a big house, set in trees, that had “private” written all over it. Marvin’s enthusiasm dropped when the back door was opened by one of the guards he had fought with in Room 207.
Happily, the exchange of wry smiles seemed to be legal currency and there was no animosity felt either way. Marvin allowed himself to be led up some stairs and along corridors until he walked into an office where he found Julia sitting behind a desk.
“Bang on time,” she complimented without a trace of rancour. “So how is my friend who isn’t gay but likes to suck cock in public toilets?” she giggled.
Marvin coloured slightly. He had moved a long way in that intervening period and had not accepted but rather embraced his homosexuality. He had not engaged in it practically simply because he could not keep up with all the rapid changes that were happening to his body. That is what he told himself anyway.
“You haven’t engaged yet in anal intercourse?” Julia enquired, being fairly sure of the answer.
“No, I haven’t,” Marvin denied, colouring more.
“O.K., if you say so,” commented the girl with body language that suggested she did not believe a word of it. “Your assignment for this evening is an appointment with our Depilation Unit. They’re waiting for you now.”
“Can’t we do that tomorrow?” Marvin complained. “I’ve had a long day and a bite to eat wouldn’t go amiss.”
“The Unit is here especially for you. We don’t do this everyday of every week,” scolded the girl. “And their services aren’t cheap.” She stopped herself from adding, “and it will all be charged to your account.” She looked at the young man straight in the eye. “I’ll send over a pot of tea and a sandwich.” Julia pressed a button on her desk and the guard duly appeared. “Accompany Marvin to the D.U. please.”
The guard smirked. Obviously, she knew something that Marvin had yet to learn.
She led Marvin outside and across the yard where he had been dropped off not so long earlier by the taxi. He had not noticed the trailer parked in a corner. It reminded him of the trailers that offered mammographs at diverse locations. There was also a touch of a mobile library too. The guard indicated he should climb steps at the back, and he was greeted by two figures all in white, including face masks. A male doctor and a female nurse.
It proved to be the other way round. The nurse set to, preparing Marvin for the “procedure”. That involved getting him stark naked. It occurred to the patient that he would have been less embarrassed if the woman had undressed him rather than the man. Much less when the male hands hovered over and around his perky little breasts. And there was no way that Marvin could conceal the blood pumping into his penis as a result. Marvin could not be sure, but he suspected that the doctor’s eyes started twinkling as she watched from the side-lines.
The whole inside of the trailer was taken up with something similar to a CT Scan machine and Marvin knew how that worked. He would lie on a sort of board that would be propelled slowly into the machine. He would then be subjected to rays of some sort which would kill his body hair for good.
As he was guided onto the padded board and being secured Marvin started wondering quite why he was agreeing to the procedure. He had sort of just accepted it, like a lamb. It was just the sequence of events he supposed. He felt himself being strapped down by both arms and legs and the last chance to revolt had passed. A mask was put over his eyes. Marvin was unaware why. It was to protect his eyelashes and eyebrows he was informed. The rest of him was to be hairless forever.
He felt a prick in his upper arm and lapsed into unconsciousness in seconds.
When Marvin returned to this world, he remembered where he was, right enough but the buzz of words in the background only slowly started to make sense. It was the doctor and her assistant chatting about football. The nurse was going to a match the next day and the doctor was teasing him about the likely result. Pompey against City. Marvin got Pompey — Portsmouth, right enough. But which City team was in the same Division? That seemed to be much more important than him lying there hairless. Then he got it and shouted out “Lincoln”.
The two medics rushed to his side wondering what the hell was happening. The doctor, being the cleverest, soon figured it out. “He’s been listening to our conversation. He thinks Pompey are playing Lincoln City tomorrow, not Hull City.” She took the blindfold from off Marvin’s eyes. “Welcome back”. Marvin realised he was minus the arm and leg restraints. He gave a querying look at the doctor who read his mind. “Brian took them off as soon as you were sedated. We needed to turn you over to toast both sides of that lovely body of yours.”
Marvin struggled to prop himself up on his elbows. The hair on his legs had been fair and light but the depilation was noticeable. He had, in the recent past, razored his pubic hairs, but the result then was a street away from the smooth skin that surrounded his meaty balls. Then to his chest and the man gave a start. Ninety-nine out of a hundred people seeing his chest alone would have been convinced it belonged to a woman. Marvin’s penis started stiffening accordingly. “Fuck me,” was all Marvin could say at that very moment.
“You like what you see then, Marvin?” asked the Doctor removing her mask Her face was nothing special — just pleasant. In contrast Marvin would describe the male’s face as belonging to a “leary bastard”. He seemed to have adopted a permanent grin as if he knew something that other people, namely Marvin, didn’t. If Marvin was the physical sort, he would have like to have punched the man on his nose.
The doctor went to a rack of pegs and came back with a striped dressing gown. “Here you are Marvin, put this on for now. There are some slippers over in the corner yonder. The guard will come for you with a wheelchair. It’s just a precaution in case you have a delayed reaction to the procedure we have carried out on you. How do you feel?”
Brian extended one last evil grin as Marvin was wheeled away back into the house where he had seen Julia a few hours earlier. “What a nicely shaped head you have,” commented the guard on the way. That was a strange thing to say. Marvin raised his hand to his head semi-automatically. Bald. Bald as a coot. Alarm turned to simmering anger. That had not been part of the contract. Nothing had been said, that was true, but he had assumed that his head hair was not part of the depilation agreement. What a bloody fool he was.
“You didn’t tell me I’d lose the hair on my head,” were the first words he flung at Julia when the made contact again. His eyes blazed angrily.
“Don’t you talk to me like that, young lady,” retorted Julia, her face stony.
“What do you mean, young lady?” queried Marvin, stopped in his tracks as it were.
“From now on your name is Marilyn and you will act like the demure woman that you are now to be. It depends on you, and you alone, whether your future life gives you fulfilment or you become no better than a low-class whore in a gay brothel.”
It was just as well Marilyn was sitting in the wheelchair. Otherwise, he would likely have collapsed onto the carpet, his legs having given way. “You’re joking.” he whispered, but that was not a question. He knew she wasn’t for sure.
Julia mercilessly twisted the knife. “You are lucky. You have been allowed to keep your male equipment. If I had my way you would have been castrated by now. Carry on the way you have, and I will put up a strong case to have you made a eunuch. You won’t be so fucking keen to buck the system after that. You know why they geld horses?” Marilyn did. He was utterly deflated and lowered his eyes to the floor.” The sooner you get a good fucking,” continued Julia, “the better it will b for all of us. I am going to arrange that right now.” To the guard she said, “take him down to the dressing room. I’ll alert Alice that you are on your way.
The guard attempted a tuneless whistle on the way, but women are not usually practiced whistlers. The message clearly went home though. The guard was happy that Marilyn was about to get his due deserts.
Alice introduced herself curtly. “I’m Alice, and it you give me any trouble young lady, any trouble at all, I’ll have the guard here smack you across the shoulders with a baseball bat which I keep especially for arseholes like you.”
Marilyn felt narked to be treated so. He did not deserve such treatment. He had not been that difficult to anybody. Surely, he was allowed some surprise and fear considering what she had been forced to endure these past couple of months? Nevertheless, se stored the pouting away and worked on being co-operative.
Alice worked on the face make-up first. “I’m only going to do a quick job,” she explained. “Just enough to make you presentable. I don’t know who is in line to fuck you tonight, but whoever it is, he won’t expect too much. Besides, he will be too interested in getting his prick up your arse. New meat is very desirable round here.” After ten minutes of silence Alice asked, “what sort of hair style do you like?”
“Short and cheeky,” answered Marilyn almost without thinking.
“Good choice,” approved Alice, awarding Marilyn her first smile. Alice disappeared for a while to return with a short auburn wig. Firstly, she poured a load of liquid on Marilyn’s head. “This is a form of glue,” she volunteered. “The wig will stay in place for months, years even. But want a change and an antidote will have it loose in minutes and there will be no adverse reactions to your skull. If only more women would choose to use this method, they would save themselves hours and hours of angst.” She took great care in fitting the wig which transformed Marilyn’s appearance into something of a fun girl. “Have you been gay for as long as you can remember, dear?”
The sharp change in the direction of the conversation made Marilyn sit up. He mouthed a reply without thinking about what he was saying. “No, there’s a lot I haven’t tried. I have not experienced anal intercourse for a start. Nor have I done similar to a man.”
“You haven’t what?”
Marilyn repeated the answer.
“Are you telling me the truth?” The woman urged.
“Absolutely,” said Marilyn convincingly.
“Wait there a minute. Don’t move,” said Alice with an authority that needed to be obeyed. The guard came back into the room – obviously sent there by Alice as a precaution.
Marilyn watched the time pass on a wall clock. Seven minutes and counting. Alice appeared back and nodded to the guard to make herself scarce. “You almost slipped the net, Marilyn, had I not clicked that just now that you’re a double virgin. Popping your cherry will cost some lucky man a small fortune. You should not have been given the butt plug — but we’ll get round that somehow.”
“Does that mean?………” Marilyn could not bring himself to complete the question.
“That you won’t be having any sex tonight?” said Alice, cheekily completing the question for him. “No, it just means that anal, of any genre, is not on the menu. The price for deflowering a virgin is off the scale. The man who will entertain you tonight will respect those parameters. Else he’ll get his penis chopped off, mark my words.”
Marilyn was not sure whether the shiver that ran through his body was fear or lust; probably a bit of both. But, put it this way, if Alice had instead told him he would not be having any sex at all with a man, then Marilyn would have been deeply disappointed.
The hair and the make-up completed to Alice’s satisfaction; she moved her client along the corridor to what she termed “the dressing room”. She had surreptitiously enquired as to whom was the lucky man in line for the night’s assignation, and learned it was Christian. Alice knew all about Christian’s likes and dislikes and was therefore able to dress Marilyn in line with them. “Silk” was the word.
Silk stockings to start with held up with a pretty pink set of suspenders. She looked at Marilyn’s arse closely. She could make out the marks where the injections had been — the ones to fill out and feminise Marilyn’s butt. He probably had not realised what had been done to him, but the effect was already well in train. Alice searched out a pair of black open backed knickers with a red ribbon tie. A lacy camisole vest, silk again of course, should complete the outfit admirably. No need for anything else. Christian would work through those in no time at all and should have generated a super hard prick in the process.
There turned out to be only one problem. From the very start of the dressing programme Marilyn developed such a hard penis that there was nothing he, or Alice, could do to even achieve a minute deflation. It proved one thing though — Marilyn reaction to sexual stimuli was so quick and extreme, he promised to be a useful member of the shemale team. In the end Marilyn was ferried up two flights of stairs to Playroom Eight with sexy camisole stretched eight inched at right angles to the rest of his body.
Christian was reposing on a big double bed impatiently waiting for the fuck toy he had been promised. He had his orders and was very displeased to have his game plan docked at the last moment but — orders were orders.
As Marilyn entered the room Christian could sense his nervousness and could hardly miss the state of his erection. He bounded off the bed in a genuine desire to greet his visitor and make him feel welcome. Such a reaction was just what the younger man needed, and he was especially pleased to see that Christian was a mature man — probably in his mid-forties. There was every chance of him relieving Marilyn of his virgin state with gentleness and understanding.
“You poor dear,” sympathised Christian just brushing his hand across the tip of Marilyn’s penis. Even that light and passing touch had the younger man in a quiver. “We must do something about that right now — else it will get in the way,” laughed Christian. Marilyn thought he was in for a cold shower or something like.
Will his visitor still only a few paces in from the door Christian dropped to his knees.in front of the rampant penis. He knew that Alice was aware of his penchant for open backed knickers, and he guessed she would have indulged him. He fed his hand round and was met with bare bottom. He allowed himself a hint of a smile at being proved correct. He found the ribbon and pulled the tie free, and the silk fabric dropped away directly in front of the man’s face. His mouth was already opening, anticipating his next move and, sure enough, Marilyn’s prick sprang into oral captivity.
There came that tremendous sense of elation, of pent-up emotion, the urge to get another prick to suck. What was it about sucking another man’s organ? The intimacy of it? The degradation perhaps. The feeling of power over another male? Or the reverse, of subjugation. Possibly a bit of each and maybe a lot more two. Those first sucks, the road to the fulfilment of the yearning, gave Christian a surge of elation.
Christian was probably too intent in “getting off” to appreciated how far gone the younger man was or, rather, how close he was to ejaculation. He caught the older man unawares and the first stream of spunk was down Christians throat literally before he knew it. No problem, he adored the taste and described himself as a “cum eater”. But he had a plan for the young man which should help cement his future in the Gay Camp. He shut his mouth, allowed the second spurt to spray his face, then pulled up the silk knickers over the spurting organ and encouraged Marilyn to soil them thoroughly. For good measure, with his other hand, he anointed the young man’s scrotum and then along to his anus.
Soon they were both lying naked on the big bed, under a cotton sheet. Christians erection was pressing into Marilyn’s groin, teasingly and making Marilyn aware that he would soon have a job to do in giving his bed mate satisfaction. The very thought of doing so was feeding Marilyn’s new erection. In fact, he would have had Christian’s prick in his mouth already had he been allowed to.
“I prefer Marvin to Marilyn,” whispered Christian.
“Why is that?”
“Because Marvin is a man’s name. I’m gay. I want to fuck a man, not a woman called Marilyn.”
Those words hardened the younger man off. “How sexy was that?” he thought. “But I’m being turned into a shemale. That is what I have been told.”
“True darling. Perhaps that’s the best of all states to be in. You’ll be able to tell me soon, anyway.”
“When I have been fully fucked you mean?”
“Perhaps,” replied the older man enigmatically. Now, I think it’s about time you repaid the compliment and sucked me off. Slowly mind. And don’t dare spill any of my precious semen. I want you to swallow the lot. If nothing else, you will remember me for that.”
TO BE CONTINUED