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Service A Pantyboy Profile By Gingerfred Man INTRODUCTION Men who meet my three best friends and me always say we're "delicious." Like we're food for them or something. I guess we do provide nourishment for their deepest hungers. My name is Cheryl. I'm 20 years old and I'm a pantyboy. If you "read" Panty Boy magazine (and who doesn't?) you know that I was Miss First-Half-of-June 2002 and they did a big pictorial on little old me. Oh, I'll bet you remember it now. The New York Times reported that there was "an inexplicable outbreak of dehydration cases among men in the United States" for the two-week period after my pictorial appeared. The "newspaper of record" wondered out loud why the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta didn't look into the situation. The reason for the affliction was pretty clear to the boss of the CDC, who was a regular reader of Panty Boy and knew that men across America couldn't stop looking at my pictures and stroking their Johnsons to creamy conclusions. That was pretty flattering for me. (Giggle) Maybe you remember my second pictorial in Panty Boy's annual swimsuit issue. My three best friends and I were shown "enjoying" each other while wearing pretty lingerie, then being enjoyed by big, hairy, hunky men on a beach that caters to pantyboys and the real men who lust for us. Doing the first pictorial resulted in me receiving 478,386 fan emails, 3,478 of which were serious, I'm guessing, proposals of marriage. Men out there must like me, really like me. But the second pictorial was even better for me. It introduced me to my best friends, lovers and roommates, my fellow pantyboys, Judy, Amy and Sandy. Knowing and loving those three angels has made me the happiest sissy in the world. They're sweet, ultra-feminine, gorgeous babes with stiff little cocks, pretty pink ball bags, tight "pussies" and a very healthy attitude toward sex with men, each other and me. Like me, Judy is a blonde, but her golden crown is long and straight, while mine is short and styled. She has the prettiest three-and-a-half inch cock in the world (I've looked around for comparison) and perfect erect nipples, framed by her bra-shaped tan lines. Amy is a brunette with a curly, boyish cut. Her features are probably the most masculine of us all, but she more than makes up for it by being the frilliest and sissiest of the quartet. She has a smile that is regulated by the Atomic Energy Commission and a warm, giving nature for almost every nice man she meets. Sandy, a redhead with green eyes that pierce men's souls, is a little cheater. She's already heartbreakingly beautiful, but she has "augmented" herself with almost A-cup titties! And at three inches, she has the teeniest little popsy of any of us. All of which give her an edge when we compete (which we surely do) for men. Those hormones she takes haven't softened her stiffies (which she always seems to have) or her cum production (oceans worth). I must admit that I'm well equipped to co-exist with these fabulous girls. I am (no kidding) even prettier than the rest of those tarty little tramps (giggle), with legs that promise (and deliver) men intense delights. I also have just the beginnings of some titties of my own. They grow a little each day and they're so sensitive that a man's soft kisses on my nipples have me gasping and ejaculating helplessly. The four of us live in a fabulous, four-bedroom, six-bath, eastside apartment in New York, which is paid for, of course by the nice men who either already know us well or really want to know us better. I want to tell you all about our histories and our lives together and I will. There's so much to tell that I'm going to split it into five stories. The first four will be about each girl's history and how she became a world-class pantyboy. The fifth will be about our wonderful life together today. Since I'm the most articulate (as well as the prettiest and sexiest), the girls elected me to tell everyone's story. Each one is really different and really (blush) exciting, starting with this interesting story about Amy. My story is the most interesting, so I'm saving it for last. AMY'S STORY Chapter 1 ? Ralph Takes Employment We always kid Amy about looking the most boyish of the four of us, with her short, brown hair and all. But make no mistake. She's more feminine than 99.9% of the women in the world. And men respond to it. They also like her British accent, which is only natural since she grew up in England. Amy started life in rural Yorkshire as the son (ick!) of a loving couple who were "in service." In England, that means you're like a butler or maid or something. Amy, who was then known as Ralph (double-ick!!) grew up on a very large estate, except that his (she was a he then) father was the butler and his mother was the housekeeper. So Ralph's parents were really the top servants on a staff of 20. The manor and a life of service were all Ralph knew. He had never really been off the estate, except for trips to the village and the two-week vacation the family took every year to the English seacoast. His mother and father were very loving and good. They wanted him to have a much better life than they did, and told him so frequently. Which is why Ralph was startled when, two weeks before his 18th birthday, his mother and father took him on a 100-mile road trip to a job interview at the Spunkley estate. All along, Ralph had thought that he was going to go to university on scholarship and here his Mum and Dad were trying to fix him up with a job he didn't want and would get him nowhere. Something about being "personal assistant" to Lord Eric Shunn, seventh earl of Spunkley. When Ralph questioned his parents, they just said that it seemed to be a job he was particularly suited to. Ralph resolved not to shine in the interview with his Lordship, so that maybe the whole thing would be forgotten. And he would go on to better things. Mum and Dad were interviewed by his Lordship first, for about an hour, while Ralph cooled his heels in an anteroom. He remembered thinking that the Spunkley estate was considerably larger than his lifelong home. He also noticed the other servants giving him curious looks as he waited. Cheeky buggers. Why didn't they mind their own business? Eventually, Mum and Dad emerged and they seemed quite pleased. That wasn't a good sign, Ralph thought. "Go ahead, Ralph," Mum said. "His Lordship is eager to meet you." Why would someone as rich as this be eager to meet me, Ralph thought. But he went into the room and closed the door. Spunkley was standing behind his desk, smiling broadly. He was a very handsome man ? blond, fit, tall and in his late 40s. There was no Lady Spunkley and he was well known as a very eligible bachelor. He came from behind the desk and moved toward Ralph to greet him. How odd, Ralph thought. Ralph's training and discipline kicked in and he was respectful, yet intelligent and self-assured with Spunkley, who smiled broadly during the interview. Mostly it was a pleasant chat, with no mention of duties, but the mention of an extremely generous salary. Ralph was excited at the prospect of making so much money at such a young age. His instincts told him something was amiss, especially in the way Spunkley looked at him, but he was too flattered to listen to his inner voice. After only 30 minutes, it was decided. Ralph would begin a week after his 18th birthday. If Ralph did his job well, he would attend university on Spunkley's money. Wow! Perhaps Ralph should have examined that gift horse's dentistry a bit more closely, but then he would have never become the Amy that Judy, Sandy, millions of men and I adore. Three weeks later, Ralph tearfully left his parents and the only home he had ever known. But he was filled with joyous anticipation about his future, which was the right feeling for the wrong reason. Chapter Two ? A Shocking Introduction Ralph arrived at Spunkley Manor late that afternoon and was greeted by Withers, the butler, who was quite friendly and helpful, even taking Ralph to Lord Spunkley for a face-to-face welcome. Ralph thought to himself that the lord of this manor was a lot more "hands-on" than the one where he grew up. Leaving his Lordship, Withers and Ralph went to the young man's room, where he deposited his things prior to a tour of the estate. Ralph noted that he was to be housed with two roommates, judging from the three comfortable double beds in the large room, but he didn't have time to study things very closely. Withers showed Ralph around, introducing him to staff, who, Ralph thought, gave him some strange looks. But the strangest incident was when he and Withers arrived at the manor's swimming pool. There were two young men, about a year older than Ralph, named Randall and Charles, who were in the skimpiest of bathing suits. (They almost looked like bikini bottoms!) They were sunning themselves and acting largely indolent until Withers introduced Ralph to them as their roommate and "fellow personal assistant to his Lordship." Ralph was struck by their confident manner and (gulp) their good looks. They were definitely boys (Ralph could see a tiny, but visible lump in both of their crotches), but they were sort of pretty. They weren't wearing make-up or anything, but they seemed pretty girlish just as they were. They greeted Ralph warmly, then went back to lolling in the sun, as Withers continued the tour. Despite Ralph's polite, but persistent questioning, Withers was vague as to the nature of Ralph's duties at Spunkley Manor. By the time the tour ended, Withers took Ralph to staff dinner, where the platoon of maids, cooks, footmen, gardeners and chauffeurs gathered three times a day for excellent food and better gossip. Ralph noticed a bit of snickering when he took his place far down the long table, especially when he asked why Randall and Charles weren't at dinner. "They're personally assisting his Lordship," said Mindy, a fortyish, downstairs maid, and everyone snickered. Ralph was a bit dense at that point in his life, but he suspected something wasn't quite right. After dinner, Ralph and Withers filled out Ralph's employment papers. Then Withers asked Ralph to perform his first official duty. His Lordship was dining in his rooms that evening. Would Ralph deliver his dinner? Ralph was happy to be useful, so he eagerly pushed the covered, laden cart through the halls to Spunkley's spacious living quarters. Ralph paused at the door, checked his appearance, and knocked twice, sharply. A husky voice from behind the door said, "Come in!" Ralph turned the knob opened the door on a crack, turned to put his back to the door, grabbed the cart and pushed the door with his back. He entered the room and beheld the sight that changed his life forever. Amy says today that she will never forget what she saw if she lives to be a million. Every time she tells me about it I get hot and bothered and usually drench my panties. Ralph looked at Spunkley's king-size bed and saw three people. Spunkley, lying on his back at the center of the tableau, was naked. His huge cock was standing rigidly erect and throbbing with the force of a quart of blood pumping through it every few seconds. To his right, Randall, one of the pretty boys at the pool, was kissing Spunkley hungrily, their tongues dancing. Randall was naked from the waist up, and Ralph, through his shock, noted that Randall's nipples were wet and erect. Randall's cock was also painfully stiff, though quite small in comparison to his Lordship's monster, and Randall was rubbing his peeny slowly against Spunkley's hairy, right thigh as they kissed. Randall's waist was adorned in a lacy, white garter belt, whose straps were attached to a pair of tan, fully-fashioned, seamed stockings with reinforced heel and toe. Oddly, though in bed, Randall was wearing a pair of five-inch-heeled, stiletto, gold sandals. He was wiggling and whimpering as he kissed Spunkley, obviously enjoying himself immensely. As was Spunkley. Not only was he kissing Randall's perfectly glossed lips, his Lordship had Randall's tiny bottom cupped in his massive right hand. Two of the master's thick fingers had entered Randall's tight, little bottomhole and he was running them slowly in and out to Randall's obvious delight. Charles, the other little creampuff from the pool, appeared to be enjoying himself as well. He was on the bed, on his knees to Spunkley's left. Like Randall, Charles was naked from the waist up. He was wearing a black-lace garter belt and silky, black, fully-fashioned stockings adorned his lovely legs. His pretty feet were encased in strappy, silver sandals, with a ridiculously high stiletto heel. Like Randall, Charles was gorgeously made up. And, apparently, extremely good at his current task. Charles was kissing and licking, no, actually feasting on, his master's cock. He was moaning and grunting in the most sissyish manner as he skinned his master's cockhead, then slurped up the considerable goo that leaked from the pouting peehole. Ralph could see that Charles' own "little gentleman," though tiny like Randall's, appeared to be achingly stiff. Charles' delicious bottom, which was clearly visible to Ralph as Charles' head bobbed up and down on Spunkley's rammer, glistened with what appeared to be a liberally applied lubricant. Several things about the scene struck Ralph. First, he was astounded at the three's lack of modesty, shame or guilt about doing something many have done, but few have exhibited. Second, Ralph was surprised that the boys he had met earlier that day could become as intensely beautiful and fully feminine as they had become. Third, he was amazed that the boys enjoyed what they were doing as much as they obviously did. According to everything Ralph had always been told, it was emasculating and icky and wrong! Fourth, and probably most importantly, Ralph was stunned by his own arousal. His little doodle was stiff and skinned and his pink parts were rubbing against his underpants for a relief he didn't even know he needed. Until that day, Ralph had never cum. Ralph was trembling, unsure of what he was to do. Would his Lordship be enraged that Ralph had witnessed this scene of incredible debauchery? Would Ralph be fired and sent home in disgrace? Not bloody likely. For the first time, Spunkley appeared to notice Ralph's presence. He broke off his kiss with Randall (though still finger-buggering the lovely boy), and said, "Oh, Ralph. Thanks for bringing that food. Just set it up over at the table and then tidy the room up a bit before you leave, won't you?" Ralph was trembling too much to answer, but he managed to squeak out a "Yes, sir." He looked at the carnal scene for a moment more and shuddered when Randall gave Ralph an intensely sultry look that pushed poor Ralph over the edge. Helplessly, Ralph began to cum, filling his underpants with the sticky cream that legions of men would later ache to taste and consume. Ralph was humiliated beyond belief, though the three continued their pleasure, seemingly oblivious to him. As he set up the food, which he then saw was for three, he heard ecstatic noises and couldn't help glancing toward their source. Randall was squealing like a girl and cumming all over Spunkley's thigh. "Oh, Daddy!" Randall screamed. "I love you!" Daddy? Ralph watched as spurt after spurt of Randall's thick cream drenched the thick hairs of Spunkley's upper leg. Spunkley's tongue silenced Randall and they kissed and cooed sweetly until Spunkley began to grunt with what appeared to be an impending orgasm caused by Charles' careful attentions to his cock. Spunkley continued to kiss and fingerfuck Randall and the boy was erect and throbbing again. Then his Lordship moaned manfully and began to pump hot, man nectar into Charles' pretty mouth. Charles appeared to be delighted with the flood of emasculating goo that his master was jetting down his throat and over his sweet lips and chin. He sucked and licked and swallowed as Spunkley arched his back and gave Charles a six-course protein dinner. Charles carefully licked his master clean, then smiled and slid up to give Spunkley a cummy kiss. "Did you like that, Daddy?" Charles asked Spunkley. "Oh, yes, Darling," his Lordship answered. "It was superb." Not missing a beat, Randall slid down Spunkley's right side and engulfed the master's cock in his wet mouth. The sleeping giant was limp and drooling, but it was clear that Randall intended to amend that condition. Ralph was "tidying up" the room as directed, but he also watched Charles straddle his Lordship's shoulders and present his stiff little tickler to the master's mouth for attention. Spunkley eagerly formed his lips around the girly-boy's doodle and Charles squealed with delight. Spunkley held Charles hips and licked and sucked the little angel ardently and expertly until the boy was screaming that he was "going to cum for Daddy." That, as well as Randall's delicious attentions, stiffened Spunkley to a full stand once again. Randall took that as a sign he should stop sucking, since that stiffie was apparently earmarked for a specific purpose. Randall gently cuddled his master's balls, just pleasingly enough to keep him rampant without making him cum. Charles, meanwhile, had passed the point of no return and began to squeal out his love for "Daddy" as he filled the seventh Earl of Spunkley's mouth with a large portion of his girlish juices. "Daddy" enjoyed it completely. A limp Charles withdrew from Spunkley's mouth and dismounted from his shoulders. He kissed his older lover with passion, then did something Ralph would have thought impossible. Still facing Spunkley, Charles straddled the master's hips, reached behind him to grasp Spunkley's big, stiff monster, then, slowly, in obvious ecstasy, inserted a two-inch-diameter cock into a one-half-inch diameter bottomhole. Ralph's eyes filled with wonder and, once again, he came hard into his already drenched underpants. No one on the bed even noticed. Astonishingly, Charles was sitting on the entirety of Spunkley's prick, to Spunkley's very hairs. and they both appeared delighted. Randall, who had done the work of raising his Lordship's flag, was destined for another reward. He moved up, straddling Spunkley's shoulders while facing his fellow pantyboy. Then he lowered his bottom onto his Lordship's eager mouth. His Lordship was apparently an accomplished pootie eater, because Randall appeared to be at the gates of heaven. Charles was easing himself up and down on the master's thick prick, gasping and panting in clear enjoyment. The two boys, who were facing each other, began to embrace, then kiss passionately as they rode their manly lover's cock and mouth. Soon, Charles' teeny weenie was spurting all over Randall and Randall's little stiffie was drenching Charles. That was when Ralph gathered himself and left, closing the door behind him. He was trembling as he stumbled back to his room. A room he would be sharing with Randall and Charles, the "personal assistants." Then, thinking a bit more clearly than he had been when his cock was stiff, Ralph remembered something horrible. He was a "personal assistant" as well. A gallon of fear adrenalin pumped into Ralph. Would he be expected to... Could he... A sticky situation indeed. Ralph was shaking hard when he made his way to the telephone that servants were to use. His Dad would know what to do. Dad always did. Trembling, Ralph dialed up and secured a connection with his Dad. At first, the little doll was afraid to tell his father what had happened, and he was sobbing when he finally was able to describe, in broad terms, what the happy trio had been doing. He paused, waiting for Dad's response. It was not what he expected, but it was what he needed. "Ralph," Dad said, "Mother and I have known for years the way your nature would guide you, even if you didn't realize it yourself. Tell me, my sweet, wonderful boy, were you disgusted by what you saw or excited?" This wasn't going the way Ralph anticipated. Dad wasn't being sympathetic. But as always, Dad was making him think. "Excited, Dad," he admitted to his father and himself for the first time. Dad couldn't see it, but Ralph blushed. "I thought so. Listen, Ralph. Do you know that you're the first young man over the age of 11 in our household who didn't have sex with Automatic Annie, the upstairs maid?" Ralph didn't know that. If it were true, what did it mean? "Did you ever notice how men, married, straight men, look at you sometimes, Ralph?" "Well, yeah. Sort of. Sometimes they look at me the same way they look at girls. But I'm not a girl." "That's right, Ralph. You're not. You're better than a girl and men sense it. When you get some training and experience, you'll be a very sought-after person. Rich. Successful. Loved. With men lusting after you, just as Spunkley lusts after those two pantyboys of his. That's what you were meant to be, Ralph. A pantyboy." Ralph felt as if he had been kicked in the stomach. He was confused and disoriented. But a strong inner voice told him that Dad was right. Dad continued. "Do only what you know you want to and call me anytime. Mum and I will be visiting you on Wednesday a fortnight. If you want to come home, you can do that then. OK?" Oddly, Ralph felt much better. Scared and apprehensive, but no longer panicked. He rang off with Dad and returned to his room. It didn't look like a room for people like Randall and Charles to pretty up. And where were their clothes? A single door at the far end of the room must be a closet, Ralph thought. He opened it and discovered that it led to another, even larger room. There were three vanity tables, lavishly stocked with cosmetics, three huge dressers filled with (gasp) intimate apparel and six (!) large, walk-in closets. Three were filled with feminine clothing, three with racks of shoes. Would Ralph be expected to...? Which things, if any, were his, he wondered. He saw that two of the areas looked lived-in, the other looked newly set up. His answer. Ralph opened one of "his" dresser drawers and saw half a dozen, lovely, neatly folded nighties. He held up the pink one on top and examined it. It was very brief. His cock, which was nested in a large amount of dried cum, began to rise. "You'll look lovely in that, Darling," a soft, feminine voice behind Ralph said. Ralph's heart nearly stopped. He dropped the nightie, turned and said, "I wasn't..." Charles smiled. He was quite a mess. His hair was askew and lipstick smeared. He smelled like a men's room at an adult movie theater. He had a long, black peignoir over the black, stockings and silver sandals Ralph had last seen him in. But he looked like the essence of sex. "It's OK, Sweetie," Charles said. "Welcome to England's panty-boy ground zero," More denials from Ralph. "But I'm not..." Charles hugged Ralph. "It's OK. I said I wasn't either. But I knew I was. And it's heavenly. Here, sit down. Would you like some tea or something?" Ralph didn't know what to do or say. But he sat in chair facing Charles. "No tea, thanks, Charles." Charles' laugh was sweet and tinkling. "No one calls me Charles any more, except Withers. I don't look like a Charles, do I?" Ralph shook his head. He or she was a very feminine person all right. Charles said, "Thank you. My name is Caroline and always will be. And Randall is Rose. Do you have a girlie name?" Ralph's expression turned to horror. He couldn't be called by a girl's name. That would be totally emasculating! Caroline understood perfectly. "We'll talk about it when you're ready. Did the sight of us taking pleasure surprise you?" Ralph blushed. "Yes," "And it excited you too, my little doll. I know. His Lordship pulled the same trick on me 18 months ago with Jennifer and Fiona. It was different for me, though. It was the realization of a life-long dream. I've always been a sissy and always known it. Rose was more like you. A lot more." That was a comfort to Ralph. "Where is Rose?" he asked. "Spending the night with Daddy. And I do mean 'spending.' When I left, Daddy had her on her back with her legs over his shoulders. He was pushing his huge meat in and out of her and she was screaming with pleasure and cumming all over her tummy. His Lordship never stays the night with two of us nancyboys. He has a strict moral code. Different than most, but strict." Ralph shuddered to think that his Lordship might someday want Ralph on his back as the big, handsome man covered Ralph with his huge body and stuck his business into the girlieboy's "pussy." Ohhhh. "Who are Jennifer and Fiona?" Ralph asked. "Two of our predecessors here. Jennifer left a year and a half ago when Rose arrived and Fiona left last month. Daddy has two to four of us here at any time, usually for 18-24 months. He's been doing that since his father died and he became the earl ? 20 years ago. So you'll be his 34th or 35th personal assistant ? something like that." "Where did Jennifer and Fiona go?" "Jennifer's at Cambridge on his Lordship's ticket and she's the most sought-after girl in a 25-mile radius. Fiona fell in love with the eldest son of one of his Lordship's peers (who shares his "tastes"). They were married last Saturday and Daddy gave the bride away. He gave them a 20,000-pound wedding present, along with the 50,000-pound-for-life annual 'pension' he pays all of us 'girls' when we leave. He's quite rich and quite hungry for the love only we can give him." Ralph's head was reeling. No wonder his Dad had wanted him to take advantage of the opportunity. The benefits were incredible. "If you don't mind my saying so, Sweetie," Caroline said, "you stink. You soaked your underpants with sissy cream in the bedroom and you're still wearing them. I need a shower too, as you can see. How about we get cleaned up and I'll find something for you to wear? Separate showers. No funny business." How could Ralph pass that up? The personal assistants' bathroom had three double showers and a triple-wide sunken tub. Caroline stripped herself to the buff, then got in her shower and began to wash. Ralph stripped and cautiously entered his shower. There was no need to worry. The water was warm and Caroline stayed to herself. When Ralph left the shower and began to dry off, Caroline was already gone. He could hear her humming happily in the bedroom. Ralph warily entered the bedroom with a towel around his waist. Caroline was stark naked except for a pair of fluffy, pink stiletto mules. She was leaning into Ralph's dresser looking for clothes for him and Ralph could see her pinkish-brown bottomhole staring directly at him. Her legs were parted slightly and he could see her little pink bag hanging down and wiggling prettily between her legs as she dug for what she wanted in his drawers. Triumphantly, the sissy angel proclaimed a "Hah!" the stood up and faced Ralph. "Oh drop that towel, Honey. We're roommates and have no modesty with each other." Not wishing to be thought a nerd, Ralph complied. He blushed, however, because the sight of Caroline's lovely hindquarters had produced further stiff evidence of his arousal in her presence. Caroline, who had seen an erection or two in her time, ignored it. She was on a mission. "This will do, Sweetie," Caroline said. "You'll look lovely and feel warm and feminine as you sleep." Thank goodness it was summertime, Ralph thought, as he observed the skimpy garment. It was a tiny, pink, see-through nightie that Ralph didn't think would even cover his privates. Could he wear something like that? His boy things had disappeared, so he didn't seem to have many options. Naked was not a choice he wanted to make at this strange manor. But naked it was for the moment, because Caroline grabbed him by the wrist and escorted him to what would be his vanity table, plopping the bewildered boy onto the stool, facing the mirror. "You're a little boyish, but that tends to make Daddy's dick even harder," Caroline said as she rifled through the cosmetics to find what she wanted. "Let's just try a little foundation, blush and lipstick. We'll work on the eyes tomorrow." Poor Ralph groaned softly. Things were going too fast. Did he really want this? Those kinds of thoughts faded slowly as he watched magic unfold in the mirror. Caroline was nattering about this technique and that shade, but all Ralph could see was his feminine side emerge before his fascinated eyes. He was already looking like a reasonably pretty girl. And his prick was in major distress as a result. Caroline stepped back to admire her work. "I see by the dark red color in your clittyhead and the naughty little twitches that you like what you see, Honey." Ralph blushed. He was falling in love with his reflection. "It's... very nice. Thank you, Caroline." Caroline said, "I knew you'd like it. But wait. There's more." Caroline took out two pink, very sheer, fully-fashioned stockings and showed Ralph how to roll them up, then on. Ralph was nearly hairless, so he felt the full effect of the first silky delight to ever embrace his legs. He made it over the knee of the first leg before he was whimpering and spraying his cum in large jets. If he hadn't been sitting, he would have collapsed. "It's fantastic, isn't it?" Caroline asked as she tissued up sweet Ralph's gooey mess. "When I'm putting on my frillies, I have to think of algebra or something or I'm losing a big, creamy load that should be going down the throat of our handsome Daddy. Or Rose. Or Edward, the gardener's assistant. Or maybe you." That made Ralph tremble even more. Somehow he managed to get the other stocking and a garter belt on without another cummy mishap. Then he stood and admired his new femininity in the mirror as a still-naked Caroline slipped his nightie over his head. Ohhhh. It was almost like wearing nothing. But much sexier. He felt the gossamer embrace of the feminine, sheer material. His "goodies" were plainly visible under the nightie's too-short skirts. Caroline put a pink barrette at both of Ralph's temples and said, "Daddy's going to eat you up. You're a doll." Fear and sexual heat slammed into poor Ralph. Would "Daddy" think he was pretty? Suddenly, Ralph began to consider in the tiniest way what it would be like to be in Spunkley's bed. Possessed by him, yet commanding Spunkley too. While Ralph was falling in love with his reflection, Caroline had slipped into an outfit exactly like his, except black. She fiddled with her hair, did a light makeup bit and, when Ralph noticed her, he almost made another of those wonderful explosions. She was red hot. Poor Ralph was stiff and aching all over again as Caroline said, "Let's get in bed, Sweetie. Or should I call you 'Amy?' Daddy told Rose and me that's the name he picked out for you. Do you like it?" Ralph felt another stab of fear as he considered what it would be like to be "Amy." Maybe he could just play along a bit. Get the benefits for life even if it meant doing a few things he wasn't fond of. It would mean getting in bed with the master. Maybe even doing "ickies" with him. Could he do that? Was there a reason he hadn't wanted to score with Automatic Annie? Was there a reason why he liked what he saw and was so excited to be dressed as a pretty boy? Ralph knew the bed on the left was supposed to be his, but Caroline was in it. Lying on her back. In that tiny, black nightie. With her privates showing. Her stiff privates, to be exact. And a teeny, dangly set of the cutest little testicles. Maybe Ralph was supposed to sleep in another bed. A part of him hoped not. That part was very happy when Caroline patted the empty side of the bed and said, "Come join me, Amy. I'll just milk you and then we can go to sleep. No more funny business." Ralph wasn't sure he knew what a milking was, but Caroline explained. "To be a true pantyboy, you have to drain out all the boy's cream from your little bag several times a day. Wearing all the pretty things makes us dizzy with feminine excitement, which makes our clitties red, stiff and sore. We need to be milked. It's best when a man does it, but another pretty boy can do it too. I can see that you need it very badly." It was true. Despite all his three cummy explosions in the past two hours, he was very much in need of a milking. It was the clothes. The thought of his own beauty. The thought of being sexually desired and (gasp) consumed by a man. But mostly, the proximity to Caroline, who dripped with raw sexuality. Sensing that he had stepped on a path he would never want to meander from, Ralph got into bed with Caroline and lay on his back. Without being asked, he lifted his nightie above his belly button, exposing himself completely to Caroline's lust. Ralph blushed and trembled. And wondered why she didn't get on with things. "You're so pretty and sweet that I'm savoring the moment," Caroline said. Then she rested her warm, girlish hand on Ralph's cock and balls. Ralph flinched. No one had ever touched him "down there" with a sexual intention. Already he knew that it was going to be better than it would have been with Automatic Annie. Ralph's peener was stiff and achy ? a nice achy ? as Caroline caressed it with her soft hand. Lightly, she scratched the small shaft with her manicured fingernails. They were red and perfectly shaped. Ralph mused about why he hadn't noticed that when he had met Caroline only hours before. She said, "You're very wet, Amy. Lots of delicious goo. Do I excite you?" Ralph nodded an embarrassed, randy "Yes." "Look at the way your thick, brown foreskin runs up and down your pretty pink head when I skin it like this. Oh! You're so sensitive there aren't you? Lord Spunkley won't be able to get enough of you. Rose and I will have to retire to an old sissies' home. Or maybe we'll find other men who want us? Amy, Honey?" Poor Ralph spoke through a fog of hot arousal, "Unnnh?" Caroline pulled his foreskin all the way back, then released it. "It's better with kissing. Would you like to kiss?" Ralph wanted to kiss. Desperately. Caroline was so beautiful and so feminine. It wouldn't be gay to kiss someone like her, would it? Ralph was so overcome with emotion and excitement that he had become non-verbal. He nodded, then closed his eyes (as he heard you were supposed to), then puckered his lips for the expected kiss. When it didn't arrive immediately, Ralph opened his eyes. Caroline was leaning over to the nightstand, fishing around for something. She found what she wanted and brought it into Ralph's view. A tube of lubricant. Smiling sweetly (darn, she was pretty, Ralph thought) Caroline squeezed a generous portion of the slick lotion on her right hand, then along the length of Ralph's cocklet and all over his pretty ball bag. The feelings were amazing. Caroline's hand was warm and very skilled at manual love. But then she did the oddest thing! Caroline abandoned Ralph's pricklet, re-lubed her hand, lifted her black babydoll's flouncy skirts, and rubbed slick pleasure all over her own stiff little treasures. Ralph watched with wonder as Caroline aroused her own sissy privates, gasping and panting as she stated deeply into Ralph's eyes. Should he be doing something? Apparently not. Caroline grunted out a request that Ralph lie on his left side. He complied. Caroline lay on her right side, and then, slowly and sensuously, touched the peehole of her peener against Ralph's teeny mushroom cap. Ralph shuddered with pleasure. Caroline rubbed their cockheads together. A moan escaped Ralph's mouth. Then things got better. Caroline wrapped her warm, gentle hand around both of their cocks and began to masturbate both Ralph and her simultaneously. Then she dove into Ralph's mouth for a scorching, lipsticked-mouth-to-lipsticked mouth kiss, If Ralph were ever going to faint, that would have been the moment. His first kiss took place simultaneously with hundreds of his penile nerve endings being stimulated to their full potential. "Arrow point" rubbing "arrow point" in hot, slick friction. Caroline's free hand cupping Ralph's plump, feminine bottom. A girlish tongue licking his own. Whimpers of pleasure and surrender coming from both girly boys as they gave themselves over to bodily pleasure. Ralph had a flash of imagination where he saw himself as a girl named Amy. The girl everyone, including his parents seemed to want him to be. And it was that vision, of a girlish life with all its joys, which pushed him over the cummy edge. Ralph, let's call her Amy from here on, cried out, ejaculating much of her masculinity as she jettisoned her hot cream. Caroline sensed Amy's awakening. The globs of sweet, sissy juices bathing Caroline's privates triggered her own pantyboy explosion. Caroline and Amy shook with lust, pumped out their love fluids until both were spent, kissed sweetly, and, worn out, fell asleep in each other's arms. Chapter Three ? Amy Encounters her Future. Amy was so tired from the exhausting day she had experienced, that she slept as if anesthetized until first light when she began to dream. She was a very attractive woman of about 25. Her four-star, womanly body was encased in a red business suit, with white blouse and very short miniskirt. Her hair was long and flouncy. She was walking briskly and expertly down a busy city street, and wearing impossibly high, stiletto-heeled, mule sandals. Her stockings were tan and seamed, with reinforced heel and toe and she had a very large audience of eager men along both sides of her path. She was ignoring them, of course, except for the really cute ones. In her dream, she felt really good about being a girl. Really good. Physically good. Almost as if... Amy awakened with a start. The room was filled with bright sunshine. She was on her back and her pretty nightie was up to her nipples. Where was Caroline? Amy looked down. She saw the top of Caroline's head. Something wonderful was happening. Caroline's wet mouth had engulfed Amy's cock! Her tongue was lavishly licking Amy's velvet helmet. The pleasure!!!! Amy saw red. Then purple. She arched her back in sexual agony, then helplessly screamed as she gave Caroline a hot, six-course, protein breakfast. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad at Spunkley Manor. Caroline looked up at Amy and smiled. Her face had taken a cummy blast, but she looked gorgeous. Amy held her arms open, inviting Caroline. Caroline covered Amy with her body, then gave her a long, wet, cummy, tonguey kiss. Amy was gasping for air and her little sticker was stiff all over again. Eighteen is a wonderful age. She was considering strongly whether she should satisfy Amy in like manner, when the door to the adjoining room opened and Rose walked in. Remember Rose? The adjacent room to the pantyboys' bedroom led, directly and conveniently, to "Daddy's" room. Rose's first reaction to what she saw was a loud "Hah!" Then she said, "I see you two are getting acquainted. That's wonderful. I would love to join you, but after a night with Daddy, I'm fucked out." To Amy's eyes, that appeared to be true. Rose's lipstick was smeared and her face was covered with a large, recent portion of semen. Her nightie was in her hand and her bottomhole was slightly open. She was drooling cum down both thighs. She looked as if she had been run over by a love truck. Yet she was smiling. Delighted almost. "How was your night, Rose?" a giggling Caroline asked. "Wonderful! I loved every exhausting moment of it. He's an amazing lover. Everything a girl needs. And the constitution of an ox. We got about three hours sleep total, but he's on his way for a morning ride, followed by a pretty full workday on estate matters. Then he says he'd like to spend some time, maybe the night, with Amy." A cold shudder ran down Amy's back. She could let him kiss her and maybe fondle her a little. That seemed like such a wonderful prospect. He was so handsome and manly and she was so new at femininity and needy for a man's love. And maybe their mouths could get involved. But he would kill her if he tried to put his "business" in her, wouldn't he? Though Caroline and Rose seemed to be doing quite well under the master's attentions. Quite well. Caroline said, "If Amy keeps Daddy happy tonight, I'm bringing Edward the assistant gardener to my room for the night. He's so sweet and he loves me so. Daddy isn't jealous, Amy. If he hasn't called for us, we're free to have our fun with anyone." "That's right, Amy," Rose agreed. "If you're going to be satisfying Daddy's 'disgusting needs' (giggle) tonight, I think I'll spend the night in the village with Alan, that nice young man who asked me out last week when Caroline and I went for tea at his Mum's hotel." That made Amy even more frightened. Staying all night with Daddy, and all that involved, seemed to be a done deal as far as Rose and Caroline were concerned. But if the idea concerned her so much, why was her popsy all stiff again? "We can't dawdle, Amy." Rose said. "Caroline and I have much to do for you and much to teach you before your 'date' tonight. Here's a robe. Put it on and go bring us all back breakfast while we get things organized." Amy complied. Things were moving very rapidly. She left the room and walked quickly toward the kitchen. It wouldn't hurt to just try things out. See if she liked them. Mum and Dad would be by in a fortnight and she could leave if she wanted. She was so self-absorbed that she forgot that she was en femme and out among the household as such for the first time. Fortunately, she didn't run into anyone except James, the butler's assistant. They had met briefly at dinner the previous evening, but things were different on the second encounter. First, Amy noticed that James was about a year older than she and quite cute. Second, James appeared to be quite smitten by the sight of Amy. So smitten, he was falling all over himself to help her get what she wanted in the way of breakfast. He even carried it for her to the "personal assistants' room" and set it up for her. That kind of attention and sense of power were new for Amy. And she liked it. So much so that Amy gave James a little kiss on the cheek to thank him, an action that shocked them both and gave poor James an obvious, painful woodie. There would be no relief from a pantyboy that day for James, however. The three lovelies were on a mission. Breakfast, then getting Amy as "up-to-speed" as possible for her first "date" with a man. It was a whirlwind day of manicures, pedicures, shaving, bathing, make-up experimentation, fashion instruction, hair styling, lessons in carriage and feminine manner, and frequent milkings-all-around to relieve the inevitable tensions. It was too much information, but Amy retained enough of it to make Rose and Caroline whistle when Amy stood before them in white lingerie and nightwear for her dinner and after-dinner activities with the world's finest connoisseur of sissy boys. She was blushing from all their praise as she tottered around in her two-inch-stiletto mules. Much of the blush was from the thought if surrendering herself to a man for the first time. Being possessed and submissive. Giving herself to him. (Shudder) It sounded way better to Amy than that missed opportunity with Automatic Annie. Part of Amy said, "I'm just looking. Two-week test drive. Returnable merchandise." The other part said, "I'm finally who I want to be, but never admitted it to myself." At 6:30 p.m., Amy kissed Rose and Caroline farewell, thanked them for their help, gathered her courage, and passed through the "closet room" to the door of Lord Spunkley's bedroom suite. Amy took a deep breath. She balanced herself carefully in the unfamiliar heels. Her garter straps tugged gently at her stockings. Earlier, the poor little creampuff had almost lost a big, sticky load just trying to look at her seams in the mirror to ensure they were straight. When she had looked at her reflection, she saw her perfect, plump bottom ? even the (blush) wrinkled hole from which Caroline and Rose had carefully removed all hair. Amy looked at her hot-pink-lacquered toenails through the gauzy screen of her white, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings. Her little toesies were so cute! Amy's balls felt so good nestled in the prettiest, frilliest white panties ever made. The silky material felt like soft fingertips rubbing the tender flesh. It was also rubbing against her exposed pink mushroom, which was skinned, wet and aching for love. At that moment, her biggest fear was that she would cum when his Lordship said hello. He was so strong and powerful. And if any of the stories that Rose and Caroline had been telling Amy about his abilities as a lover were true... Another deep breath brought the scent of her Passion perfume to her pretty nostrils. Amy knocked. Several steps sounded, then the door opened. Ohh. He was beautiful. Wearing a wildly expensive dinner jacket and matching accessories. Dazzlingly handsome. Smiling as if he had just seen the two-wheeler under the Christmas tree. And all because of Amy, she thought. He looked as awed as she felt. "You are the most beautiful woman it has ever been my pleasure to know," he said, apparently spontaneously. Amy blushed. She knew she was one of a long line of pantyboys who had given his Lordship comfort. She knew it was probably a line. But she reacted to that statement as women have for millennia. "Really? Do you think so? Tell me more." Spunkley did just that. In some detail. As he took her hand and led her to a well-appointed room prepared for an intimate dinner for two. Praising her beauty in ways old and new. And Amy adored it. Amy glowed with the praise as Spunkley held her chair at the graciously prepared dinner table. They were dining early, as was Spunkley's custom. More time for after-dinner activities. Spunkley rang a bell and a door opened. James, the butler's assistant who had seemed so interested in Amy earlier that day brought the meal in. Amy gave him a shy smile and he returned it. She was a little embarrassed that someone had seen her dressed for sex with the master. But apparently, that was not an unnatural sight in the Spunkley household. James departed and they were alone again. Spunkley's conversation relaxed Amy a bit as they ate a light, summer meal of salads. They spoke of their favorite football sides (Man U for Spunkley, Liverpool for Amy), their families and Amy's beauty. Good topics. After James removed the dishes and served dessert, Spunkley moved the conversation where he wanted it to go. "You know you don't have any obligation to do anything with me, right Amy?" Amy shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "Yes, sir," she answered. Spunkley smiled. "You can call me 'Daddy' if you like, Dear." Amy wasn't sure about that and said nothing. "Please don't be uncomfortable. You can say no anytime you want. You can go home anytime you like. I hope you don't, though." Amy ate her last spoonful of vanilla ice cream. She nodded ambiguously. "I'm going into the other room and sit in a big easy chair. If you would like to join me, sit on my lap and kiss for a while, I would like that very much. And I think you would too. But it's up to you." (Gulp) True to his word, Spunkley rose and left the room. Through the open door, she could see Spunkley remove his dinner jacket, hang it carefully, then undo his bowtie and the top button of his shirt. He sat and waited. Amy made her decision. She rose and walked straight through Spunkley's door. She closed the door behind her, then sissied over to a chair directly across from Spunkley. She slowly, teasingly removed her peignoir robe and folded it over the empty chair. Amy looked at Spunkley across a distance of about ten feet. She peeked shyly at Spunkley through downcast eyes. She was and is such a little flirt. Spunkley looked at Amy and quivered with lust. She was wearing a white babydoll nightie with thin spaghetti straps traversing her creamy shoulders. The skirts of the babydoll barely touched the top of her lacy white panties. The little lump was throbbing deliciously. Amy's panties had been pulled over her long, thin, garter straps ("For quick removal," Rose had insisted. Her fully-fashioned, seamed stockings began halfway down the softest, milkiest thighs Spunkley had ever seen. Her delicious legs tapered down to a pair of strappy white mules that displayed a set of toes his Lordship ached to suck. Amy loved seeing his Lordship's lustful stares. She adored the way she seemed to have Spunkley at her complete command, just before she was about to surrender herself to him completely. With a deep sigh, she wiggled over to Spunkley and placed her soft, warm bottom in his lap. Amy nestled her head in Spunkley's chest and said, " I want to be with you, Daddy." Is it hot in here? I'm sorry, folks, but telling you this story of Amy's life has made me, Cheryl, very hot and bothered. The Boston Red Sox are in town to play the Yankees and there's a certain pitcher who shared some quality time with me the last time he was in New York. He said I was the best "catcher" he'd ever had. I think I'll make a little phone call and invite him over for a night he can remember for the rest of his life. Then, if there's anything left of me, I'll continue Amy's story. Chapter Four ? Amy Settles in with "Daddy" Whew. What a night. It was just my luck that my fast-balling beau had just finished pitching and winning the game when I called. He carries a cell phone all the time that, he says, is only for calls from me, since I'm the only one who has the number. He said it was a good thing I didn't call during the game, because, rather than miss an opportunity to see me, he would have taken my call, right there. During the game. On the mound. On TV and everything. He said that nothing is more important than being with me. He has exactly the attitude I look for in a man. And a very large cock. And several million dollars. See why I like him? Anyway, he showered in microseconds and broke the land speed record over to our brownstone on 63rd Street. I don't know much about baseball except it involves some hard balls and a big, stiff pole. So I know my Red Sox sweetie must be a really good player. My ass is sore and my balls are completely empty, so you know we had a wonderful night. The diamond bracelet he gave me exponentially increased the chances that he'll need that cell phone of his again. Ouch, he really stretched me back there. And his cum is still oozing out of my pink little bottomhole an hour after he left for the ballpark. Thank goodness for real men! Anyway, back to Amy and Lord Spunkley. When Amy ran up the white flag, Spunkley took no prisoners. He kissed the little doll lovingly, but firmly. Her first kiss from a man. No tongue, just lips. She adored it. She felt so deliciously submissive to this alpha male who wanted to possess her. She wanted to be possessed. Spunkley left her lips and began to kiss her shoulders (gasp) and her white neck (pant). Where had all the air gone in the room? Her lover's right hand was under her left garter strap, gently stroking the smooth, warm skin of her thigh. His left hand was on her right shoulder. Amy was enjoying herself tremendously. She hadn't cum, but had been on the verge for the past two hours. Her little nuts were aching, needing release and relief. But Spunkley hadn't touched her privates at all. Her drippy pricklet had made a silver-dollar-sized, sticky stain on her pretty panties. Spunkley reached over and began to caress the inside of Amy's right thigh. Amy moaned softly. Then the wonderful man slid the right, spaghetti strap of her nightie off her shoulder, exposing the little angel's puffy right nipple to a man's lust for the first time. Amy was aware of her nakedness. As a boy, the exposure of a nipple was not indecent. But Amy's remaining boyishness was beating a rapid and permanent retreat. Spunkley gazed at the exposed nipple adoringly, as a man prepared to consume the finest meal of his life. Amy knew a wide river was about to be crossed. Spunkley moved toward the sissy treasure and brushed his lips against the tip of her nipple. Amy felt a bolt of sexual electricity surge through her chest. The adored nipple erected fiercely. Rather than kiss it again, Spunkley admired it, building Amy's anticipation and putting her on the precipice of orgasm. Deftly and simultaneously, Spunkley used the pad of his right index finger to touch Amy's pouted peehole through her panties at the same instant he took her nipple between his lips and gave it a delicious tonguing. Bam!!!! Amy's stomach clutched. She cried out, "Daddy!!!!!!!!" And she pumped glob after glob of her sticky sissy cream into her first panties. It was a stunner of an orgasm and its force thrilled Amy and elated Spunkley, who knew he had a new personal assistant who would enjoy personally assisting him as much as he liked being personally assisted. Poor Amy arched her back in sexual agony as her orgasm refused to release her. Spunkley broke off from her nipple and held her little body tenderly as she convulsed with lust. When the little creampuff's tremors eased, he kissed her lips softly. Then again. And again, parting her lips with his tongue. Amy was willing to let her wonderful "Daddy" do as he wished. She opened her mouth and whimpered submissively, offering her tongue and tonsils for Spunkley's pleasure. Spunkley knew how to make a sissy enjoy a good, thorough kissing. His supple lips knew where to smooch and his tongue knew where to lick. His hands were busy too, caressing Amy's chin, her shoulders and her neck as they slipped into a world in which they were the only inhabitants. After a good half hour of the most delicious kissing on earth, Spunkley stood, holding Amy in his arms as if she were weightless. Kissing her as he carried her across the room to his huge bed. Amy didn't want the moment to ever end. She felt loved and wanted and needed and above all ? randy!! Spunkley laid the little doll on her back, ensuring that her head was on pillows and she was comfortable. Then he slowly, teasingly undressed. Amy's eyes were wide as she saw his magnificent body revealed just for her (not those little tramps Rose and Caroline) for the first time. She blushed when Spunkley's huge cock sprang from his briefs. It was massive!!! Would she have to...? She shuddered at the thought. Amy was still in her nightie, garter belt, stockings, heels and cum-soaked-then-dried panties. "Daddy" was completely naked as he bent over his doll, hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her panties at her hips and slid them over her stiffie, down her thighs, past her calves, over her pretty feet and off. Amy blushed fiercely. She was now in bed with a naked man and her privates were completely exposed to his disgusting desires. It was SO exciting! Spunkley was on Amy's right, lying on his left side as Amy lay on her back. He was in command. He began to kiss her right shoulder as he absently rubbed her exposed stomach with his right hand. With a bravery Amy didn't think she had, she reached over with her right hand and touched his Lordship's cock. She covered the cap with her girlish hand, afraid to look at it or him, but fascinated by what she was doing. Spunkley moaned softly. "You little angel," he said. "That feels wonderful. I'll get on my back and you can complete your inspection." Spunkley rolled onto his back and Amy worried that she had begun something she couldn't finish. She wanted to do "things" to her lover's cock, but what things? And could she do them? Amy knelt on the bed perpendicular to Spunkley's left hip. She sat on her pretty haunches as she considered the raw masculinity before her. He was exquisite. And apparently very uncomfortable. Amy realized that the poor man had probably not cum since that morning when he had deluged Rose's pretty face with spunk, then sent her back to her room. That was 12 hours ago! And he had been kissing and cuddling with Amy for the past 60 minutes. The poor man needed immediate relief. It was the humanitarian thing to do. It was no wonder that Spunkley winced when Amy took his heavy ballbag in her girlish hand and hefted it gently. It must have weighed five pounds!! And filled to the brim with scorching, manly juices. The lovely doll took each ball in her sweet hand and felt its weight, rubbing the hairy, wrinkled skin gently as she watched him squirm with need. This situation had to be resolved quickly, our resolute heroine decided. She carefully dropped the heavy nutbag and marveled at how beautiful it was, covering half of his hairy, right thigh. Then she carefully examined the object that she knew would soon become a continuing the source of great and intense pleasure for her, her newest friend, Spunkley's magnificent cock. Very large and thick, it appeared hot enough to sustain the power needs of a mid-sized European nation. It was prominently veined on both sides and Amy believed she could actually see the blood pumping through those magnificent ridges on their way to Spunkley's almost-purple cockhead. The sweet little girl blushed as she ran her right hand lightly along its entire perimeter. It almost scorched the angel's flesh, but that deterred her not. Spunkley gasped as she held his manmeat in both hands and measured it. Amy put her tiny right hand at the monster's base, then placed her left hand above her right. She removed her right hand and placed it on the fat cock above her left hand. The "third hand" only came to the base of Spunkley's cockhead. It was "three hands and a head" tall!! All that fiddling with Spunkley's considerable assets had him in dire distress. Amy released her new best friend and conducted a visual inspection of the cockhead. Lovely arrowpoint on the underside. Spunkley's iron bar was fully against his stomach, so she couldn't see the topside of the head. What she did see was a considerable leakage from peelips the size of a young fellow's mouth. The pre-cum had formed a lake in Spunkley's belly button. The poor man needed relief. But just a little more teasing first. Amy kissed Spunkley's "arrowpoint" sweetly with her hot-pink-glossed lips. Then again. Thinking he might cum, she stopped, then lifted his cockhead, saving it from drowning in Lake Navel. Then, like a hungry kitty, she slowly lapped up all the sweet juices from Spunkley's tummy. Mmmmmm. Now to save the poor man from his torment. Rose had advised capping the mushroom with the mouth and employing a piston motion while sucking, then swallowing the inevitable spermy reward. Caroline said a true cocksucker never "caps," rather the entire process involves tonguey licking, without sucking, and the girl's big reward between the eyes and all over the pretty face. Amy decided to try a little of each, beginning with some nice licking alllllllll around the oh-so-sensitive, overstimulated, sopping head. She was so good at doing that that she didn't get the opportunity to try method B. Oh no. His Lordship "voted with his cum" for method A. Lots of cum. With nice, manly grunts and six thick, ropy spurts all over his chest and even on his chin. Amy kept licking the arrowpoint all through the fireworks. It was wonderful to give someone so much pleasure. She was very happy and very proud of herself. His Lordship was a cummy, trembling mess. But at least as happy as Amy. Like his earlier 35 personal assistants, Amy was going to be an enthusiastic girl. Reveling in the joys of panties and big manly cocks to suck and take "back there." Had Spunkley been lucky or was there something in every pretty boy just waiting for the right "Daddy," the right frillies and the right instinctive drives? Let's not hurt our heads by thinking too much, OK? The only thing Amy was thinking about was how Daddy was going to be cleaned up. And if (but more likely how and when) Daddy was going to fuck her. As it turned out, the answers to both questions were linked. Daddy's cum was a big one, even by his gooey standards. And he was thrilled at the prospect of the delights presented by the lovely pantyboy kneeling next to him, watching his seismic orgasm with wonder and enchantment. He knew that his actions over the next few moments, overcoming her last set of reservations, would be critical. An amateur would have taken the angel into his arms, kissing her and thanking her for the treat she had just given him. But Spunkley was a professional Daddy. "You're a perfect angel, Amy. Made for love. Destined to make men adore you. I love you already," he said. Amy blushed. This was heady stuff for someone who had led a life of anonymity. Spunkley pressed his clear advantage. "Sweetheart, please straddle my body, on your knees, across my hips, so I can admire the most beautiful bottom in the world." No girl could pass up an invitation like that. No sissy, anyway. Amy straddled Spunkley's hips, her perfect, creamy globes facing her ardent suitor. Spunkley paused a moment to admire the feminine feast before him. Amy's little brown/pink hole had the loveliest wrinkles. Her tiny prick and little "silk purse" of testicles hung and swayed for Spunkley's future, loving amusement. Many were the time when I felt what Spunkley felt as I bedded delicious, feminine Amy. After too many men to count, she is still sweet, innocent and totally loving. I wish you could meet us all. Anyway, Spunkley said, "I'm the luckiest Daddy on earth to have you in my bed. You're beautiful and feminine and [yadda, yadda]." He ran off a dialogue about Amy's sexual perfection, all the while using two fingers to scoop up cum from his stomach and slathering it around the sensitive folds of Amy's virgin pussy. Amy whimpered from the high praise and new, delightful sensations. Then Spunkley entered the pantyboy's pussy with one cummy finger, just to the depth of a nail. As Spunkley had hoped, Amy squealed. His new girls always did at the pleasant, but unfamiliar feel of a finger in one's most private place. But Amy did something none of her predecessors had done. Her balls seized up and her limp doodle blasted out four thick ropes of hot sissy cream. She was hotter than even Spunkley had anticipated. As Amy wiggled in an agony of sexual delight, Spunkley pushed his cummy finger completely into the angel's posterior regions. He moved it in and out, as well as laterally, as Amy's orgasm continued unabated. As she gasped out the last drop of girlish goo, Spunkley inserted a second finger. And found her prostate. And massaged it. Poor Amy. Nothing in her life thus far had prepared her for the intensity of her feelings at that moment. Amy's arms collapsed and her chin rested on the mattress between Spunkley's legs. She shook her bottom, not to discharge Spunkley's magical fingers, but to press for every molecule of them along her tender prostate. Ohh. Poor Amy was in overload. Daddy slipped a third finger in, widening the opening. Testing its limits. Rubbing the "new girl's" secret spot. Amy couldn't possibly cum again so soon. She had just...ahhhh...the way he touched her there was...fantastic. Otherworldly. But her peeny wasn't even stiff and her balls had just been emptied. No matter.