Scarletts submission
- 2 years ago
- 11
- 0
Scarlett's Ride, Part 1 Of 4 free porn video
If you have ever transferred into a college, far from home, you know what
it was like for me in my junior year at Rowan College.
Anyway, I was sitting on my dorm bed, looking at the big pile of Chad's
crap on the bed across from me, and contemplating his last words ("don't
touch my shit there, studmuffin.") and the difference in our size (about
two hundred pounds). I desperately wanted to take a leak on Chad's stuff,
set it on fire and just leave forever. Both brave and cowardly in one
package.
My irrationality stems from my size. I might weigh about a buck twenty,
and at 5'9" I am skinny as a twig. I have always been small, and it makes
me fearful in new social settings. I have had pretty good reason to be
fearful in the past; new, small guys who aren't class clown material are
at best ignored, at worst beaten and ridiculed.
Chad had dismissed me as soon as he saw me. In fact, his admonition to
respect his property was the only sentence he'd directed my way. I get
dismissed a lot. It's better than getting my head stuffed down a toilet,
like my sophomore year of high school, but it makes for a lonely
existence. A lonely existence makes for a somewhat nutty internal dialog.
In this case, I was actually vocalizing that I would love to piss on
Chad's stuff, when I shook myself out of it and decided to explore the
campus. I pushed my hair out of my eyes and headed out of my room, down
the hall, down the stairs and out into the southern New Jersey night.
New students were everywhere, sitting in groups, playing Frisbee, or just
walking around by themselves. I walked past several groups, and the last,
full of Chad-clones and cute but overly made up blondes, started laughing
as I passed by.
"I mean, which is it, a boy or a girl?" More laughs. "Hey Pat, how's it
going?" Still more laughs. I decided to go back to my dorm.
Chad had arranged things while I was gone. Apparently my bed was better
than his, because he had claimed it, and, oh, you get it. Big asshole
takes up more than half the room. I grew up sharing a room with my big
brother, another Chad-clone, so I was used to it. I grabbed a book from
my stuff, now tumbled on the floor in front of my new bed, and headed
down to the TV room on this floor.
There was just one other person there. A slim person with long black
hair, wearing a big baggy t-shirt over tight pants that looked like ankle
length biker shorts. Just the way their knees were drawn up looked
feminine, but of all people, I know better than to take that for granted.
I sat down on a comfy chair that had seen the hot end of more than one
cigarette.
"Hi," the other said, "my name is Jay."
"Hi Jay, I'm Scott; room 409."
Jay, whose sex was still undetermined, chuckled. "Its funny how we define
ourselves."
At the sight of my face shutting down, Jay laughed again, and threw the
one remaining couch pillow at my head.
"Don't be such a baby. I didn't say you were acting stupid or anything,
but what you said speaks volumes. You are obviously new; no one but me
and the new people come here in the first week, and you were trying to
tell me something about yourself without opening up too much."
Jay laughed again, and this time I cracked a small smile.
"Come on, let's go down to my room. I'm an RA, so I have a single, and I
have a nice bottle of Grey Goose I snatched from work. We can get drunk
and talk about the meaning of life, or whatever it is they talk about out
there in the quad."
An hour later, I was drunk, telling Jay stories of abuse from my life,
and we were both cracking up. Jay WAS a boy-type, and he had much the
same story to tell. Then Jay had to go to work, and when I asked what he
did, he laughed again and said to hold on and he would show me.
I sat on his bed, sipping vodka and listening as he rooted around in his
bathroom. It took about ten minutes, and at the end, Jay walked out and
almost knocked me out. He was in a silver sequined sleeveless halter top
dress, which disguised a nice rack of fake tits well, leaving vast back
acreage clear, and coming no further down than the very tops of black
stockings. Jay had gained about three inches with silver pumps.
His hair was pushed back with a matching sequined band, and you could
really see the lavender extensions well. Long lavender nails and perfect
makeup finished the effect.
Jay was beautiful; still not quite completely feminine, but beautiful.
What masculinity remained just served to further enhance the look, not
detract from it.
"What can I get you to drink, honey?" Jay's voice dripped with sweetness,
but he didn't try for artificial femininity. You just wanted to believe.
It turns out, he was a cocktail waitress at a casino, but not on the main
floor of one of the big houses. This was smaller, and all the "girls"
there were like Jay.
"I'm not really gay, or anything. I just can make a LOT of money doing
this, so I don't worry so much about the whole gender thing."
With that, Jay pushed me out, and hustled off to her car. Yeah, I
switched genders to describe her, but she had switched genders, so you
are just going to have to deal with it.
Chad didn't come back that night, so I jerked off until my dick was raw.
I couldn't stop thinking about Jay, but not about sex with Jay, but about
how it would feel to turn girl like that. Jay as a boy was a lot like me;
on the scrawny end of the scale. But as a girl, or even as a girly-boy,
Jay was sexy.
I woke up the next morning and went to various orientation events, but I
really didn't pay much attention. After lunch, I went back to the dorm
and down to the TV room. Jay was there, looking a little tired, but happy
to see me. I sat down and crossed my legs, pushing my hair out of my
eyes.
"How was work?" I asked.
Flash, click. I had just been photographed by Jay's cell phone. "It went
great. I told my boss, Lyle, about you, and he wants you to come in for
an interview. I'm sending him this picture now." Jay's fingers flew as he
punched his cell phone.
Then he flipped it closed and looked at me expectantly.
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Are you interested?"
"But, uh, well,"
"You know, I'm not gay, and I know you're not either. I know that is what
you're worried about, but screw it. You were born how you were born so
you might as well get some use out of those long legs."
"I'm not sure..."
"I made four hundred and thirty dollars last night, working five hours."
"When can we go?"
I was standing, ready to get changed right then and there. That kind of
money meant I wouldn't have to worry about student loans at all. Jay was
laughing though, and patted the seat next to him. I sat down again.
He told me about the place, about the ?uniform' and about the clientele.
They were mostly gay men, but there were a lot of butch straights as
well, out to enjoy the freakish scenery. The more you flirted, the more
money you made, so you had to use your assets generously.
I met him again the next day, in the afternoon. He had what he thought he
needed, he said, so we went to work. A similar sequined dress to the one
he wore, but more bronze in color, and a little longer. This went on over
a waist cincher with garters holding up black stockings and black padded
panties. He used spirit gum to glue on some prosthetic b-cup breasts
after I had thoroughly shaved everywhere except my pubic hair..
The makeup table was next, and that was a whirlwind. Jay did it all, and
the hair, too. I had a matching bronze sequined band holding my brushed
and trimmed blonde hair. I was definitely still a boy, but the look was
sexy and exotic rather than grotesque, if I do say so myself.
Dressing had been the easy part apparently. Jay snapped another shot for
Lyle, then had me practice walking and standing. This part was where I
fell down. Not literally, but rather in that I had no grace. I just
couldn't walk like a woman. It always looked forced. Jay became
progressively more frustrated, until I just huffed out a sigh and crossed
my arms under my not insubstantial chest.
Then it happened. Jay told me, sounding pissed, to get over to him. I
stumbled over, and he put a pillow on the ground in front of him.
"Kneel."
The command was like a slap. I knelt like I was bid, but without ever
thinking about it. Jay's short's came partway down, and out popped his
stiff dick, actually brushing up against my lips.
"You need to start thinking like a woman, and I promised Lyle you would
be ready PDQ. So suck it, bitch."
His hand snaked into my hair, and he got a good grip and pulled my lips
around his cock head, sliding forward until my throat protested. My hands
shot up, one to stroke and the other to play with his balls, and I just
let myself melt into the experience. With each inward thrust I tried to
swallow his cock whole, to the point where I was taking the whole thing.
I couldn't tell you how long we went on. It felt like a heavenly
eternity, and when he roughly grabbed the sides of my face and pulled out
so he was resting the head of his penis on my tongue, I looked up at him.
He was looking down at me, smiling now. The smile was infectious, and I
almost laughed as he shot gob after gob of cum down my throat.
A moment later, I was lying on the floor gasping, and he was calling
someone on his cell.
"Lyle, it's me, Jada." A short murmer from the other end then, "Yeah,
she's ready. I'll bring her tomorrow."
To Be Continued. Please email feedback to [email protected]
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