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Babydoll Boys Chapter One - Frat boys Like most college boys, Bluto Fratman was always looking for ways to enrich his higher-educational experience. On most weekend nights, occasional Tuesdays and most Thursdays, Bluto and his fraternity brothers performed field research on the effects of ethyl alcohol on the post-adolescent male brain. They performed this vital task in the fraternity house, as well as various entertainment establishments both on- and off-campus. The sixth-year sophomore was particularly dedicated to this essential quest for knowledge. And in the interest of science, he was always looking for new venues for his studies. Among his peers, Bluto was respected for his discriminating entertainment sensibilities, especially his willingness to take the path less-traveled. But one Friday evening, after a particularly challenging week of rigorous academics, Bluto surprised his research colleagues by proclaiming, "Tonight, we're all going to Babydoll Boys." Well, the sober among his entourage could hardly believe that announcement. After all, EVERYONE knew about Babydoll Boys and its theme, which was beyond unusual. "But Bluto," said Harley Wakeful, one of the few brothers who could challenge Bluto's omnipotence. "That's the place where pretty boys in girls' lingerie are the 'hostesses.' Isn't that 'gay?'" Bluto looked at Harley the way a professor would look at a na?ve research assistant. Kindly to the point of pitying. And he said, "You need to think a bit more broadly, grasshopper. It'll be a hoot. It'll be different. And it's not like any of us score with the waitresses at the places we go now. They all think of us as drunken bums. Who among us has gotten laid in the past six months anyway?" The lads looked at each other, but not a single hand went up. "So it's all mute," Bluto said, showing his usual malapropian disdain for vocabulary. "We can go there and embarrass ourselves and the wait staff - just like we always do. Only this will be a bit different." All five scholars agreed with Bluto's visionary leadership, just as they always did. And it was off to Babydoll Boys. Chapter Two - Hard workers "We only want 'hard' workers here at Babydoll Boys," said Robbie Bedready, manager of Babydoll Boys franchise number MW/236-2. Robbie thought himself a great wit, so he could never understand why the new "hostesses" at his Babydoll Boys never snickered at that fantastic double entendre. If he had thought about it a bit, he would have reasoned that the two new pretty boys standing with him in the franchise's dressing room were a bit nervous about what they were about to do. Especially Shannon Spunkmore, who had never even considered putting on [gasp] women's clothes until his dad had informed him the previous week that tuition, room and board were now Shannon's responsibility. It seemed that Shannon's dad had a new girlfriend - one who had "insisted" that he spend his money on her, not some silly education for a boy she didn't know. Shannon's dad, who had "pussy up his nostrils," was powerless to deny her. [Sigh] It was simple economics for Shannon, a smallish, blond, rather pretty, young freshman lad. The only place around campus, other that betting on sports or selling recreational pharmaceuticals, where one could make tuition-size money, was Babydoll Boys. And while emasculating himself was not Shannon's idea of a good time, neither was having his knuckles or head broken for unpaid gambling debts or a long prison sentence for drug commerce. So Shannon and his roommate, Terry Spunquette had interviewed for two positions at the new off-campus hot spot. Shannon was a bit surprised when Terry eagerly agreed to join Shannon in his emasculating, degrading employment for "moral support." Shannon guessed that Terry was just being a good friend, as he always was. Shannon hurried to get dressed for his shift, which began at 6 p.m. that fateful Friday night. Before leaving their dorm room, he and Terry had carefully followed their boss Robbie's instructions about shaving "all over." From the sideburns down, Robbie had insisted. That included that "curly patch down there." And even [blush] the most intimate spot between the bumcheeks. It was a good thing Terry was there for him, because there was no way Shannon could have shaved his bottomhole area without Terry's help. Terry had been so sweet and eager to help and Shannon had reciprocated, of course. Despite their "preparation activities" of the previous day, Shannon was MORTIFIED that he had a stiffie during the time that Terry was shaving him. Terry's intimate attention was very exciting to him. A nice distraction that took his mind off the thought of serving drinks to a bunch of drunken louts. Leering, drunken louts who would not only sexually harass the "babydoll boys," but also make horrible, emasculating comments about proud, virile young men who were only degrading themselves for extremely good causes. A grandmother's operation. A child's special Christmas present. Or even an engagement ring for his soon-to-be wife. Yes, those were the kinds of reasons for employment that his fellow "waitresses" at Babydoll Boys would tell Shannon if he asked them. He was sure of it. No man would want to dress in female clothing and parade in front of men unless he had a compelling reason. Terry's reason was clear, Shannon knew. Terry was there to support his friend. Even if it meant doing disgusting things like putting on makeup. Which Terry had completed as they prepared for their first shift in the back room of Babydoll Boys. Terry even taught Shannon how to put his own makeup on. How did Terry know how to do that so well? Terry did such a great job that he had made himself look pretty. Very pretty. Desirable, even. If Shannon didn't know that Terry was a man, Shannon would have thought Terry was a woman. Was that what the customers would think when they saw Terry? Would they desire him? Only if they were gay. Shannon was sure of that. Still, Terry did look good. Very good. And the way Terry was making up Shannon's face....oh my! Shannon was prettier than Terry. Lots prettier. Shannon was as pretty as any girl Shannon had ever seen. That was a shock. Shannon wasn't sure if it was a nice shock or a bad shock. And Terry didn't give him time to consider it. He was showing Shannon how to roll a white, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stocking into a doughnut shape, then ease it sensuously up his smooth, long leg. Oh! That was very nice! Cool and comfortable. Especially on his shaved legs. Terry even knew how to put on a garter belt and hook it just so to the stockings. As the two lovely lads slid white babydoll nighties over their heads, Shannon remembered yesterday's horrible interview with Robbie. It was so bad that Shannon almost quit before he began. That awful man had Shannon and Terry strip NAKED! Shannon would have quit right then - before he even began - had it not been for three facts: 1) Daddy hadn't exactly invited him to return to the home Daddy now shared with his soon-to be trophy wife 2) Shannon didn't relish the idea of sleeping under an overpass and 3) Terry seemed almost eager to get his clothes off and Shannon, being a competitive male, didn't want to look like a wimp. The previous day, Robbie said he had to see them naked to be sure that they were qualified for their new and physically challenging jobs. That sounded fishy to Shannon, but Terry was listening to the man intently. And rapidly undressing. Oh dear. Shannon didn't want to look at the naked Terry. But guys are curious. Oh double dear. Shannon's cock was betraying him! It was STIFF. Just from looking at Terry. Although Shannon and Terry shared a dorm room, Shannon hadn't seen Terry naked yet. Shannon was surprised to see how slim and girlish Terry's body was. How big and puffy Terry's nipples were. And how tiny and [gasp] pretty Terry's penis and testicles were. Shannon wanted to look away, but Terry was so beautiful that all Shannon could do was agree with his cock. Terry glanced over at Shannon, saw his admiring gaze, and smiled at Shannon. Which FORCED Shannon to rip his eyes away from Terry and look straight ahead. Robbie saw it all. And took advantage of it. "You're both very beautiful and girlish," Robbie said, "and I can see that being naked with a man, me, excites you. Those are good traits for a job at Babydoll Boys." Shannon was outraged. He wasn't stiff because he was in Robbie's presence. It was because of Terry that... Wait. Which was more gay? Shannon couldn't decide right away so he said nothing. Though Shannon did flinch when Robbie touched Terry's penis and began to stroke it most deliciously. "You girls will be 'whities' tomorrow night and for your first few times at the venue. That means you'll wear white babydolls and white stockings, make $50 per hour plus tips, until you become pinkies. Pinkies make $100 per hour, plus tips, and wear pink babydolls and pink stockings. Blackies make $150 per hour, plus tips, and wear black, very skimpy babydolls, black, seamed, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel- and-toe stockings, and big stiletto sandals." Oh dear. What was Robbie doing to Terry? And why did Terry seem to be enjoying it so much? Shannon needed the big money and he needed it fast. So he had to ask. "Can't we start out as blackies?" Robbie chuckled. "Easy does it, Honey. Let's see if you can even be a whitey. I see that your pretty friend Terry has what it takes. Stand back." Oh! Shannon watched in horror as Terry's achingly stiff penis shot string after string of sperm and semen! And Terry cried out most unmanfully during the filthy process. On no! Robbie moved in for a post-horror kiss with Terry and was sticking his tongue into Shannon's roommate's heterosexual mouth. What an amazing friend, I have in Terry, Shannon thought. He's enduring all that just to help me in my quest to raise enough money to stay in school. They kissed for a long time. Terry even extracted Robbie's stiff penis from his trousers and rubbed it most seductively as Shannon's admiration for his friend's sacrifice grew. It appeared that Robbie was about to mimic Terry's "shooting" but the man pulled off just in time. And cast his eyes onto Shannon. Oh no. Did Robbie intend to stroke Shannon to orgasm? Kiss Shannon? Then have Shannon stroke Robbie to orgasm? It seemed so. It was time for Shannon to 1) maintain his honor by refusing, boy- dressing and stomping out of there straight to the bridge he would sleep under that evening or 2) answer Terry's incredible sacrifice with the courage to fulfill his commitment to his new employer. Shannon chose wisely. Oh dear. Robbie was calling Shannon, "Honey" again. Telling him he was a pretty girl. As he stroked Shannon's sore, sensitive penis. No hand, even his own, had ever stroked Shannon's penis. It was gruesomely exciting. And then when Robbie kissed Shannon and FORCED his tongue into Shannon's mouth! Oh! Poor Shannon. He was feeling faint. He reached out to grab something to hold onto and found that he was holding Robbie's penis! Unwittingly, he began to stroke the manly pole as Robbie was stroking Shannon's sissy stick. Robbie grunted something about Shannon's beauty, then shot his sticky cream all over Shannon's bare belly. Which disgusted Shannon so much that he lost his own load as he spasmed through the first orgasm of his life. What was the license number of that 18-wheeler that just ran Shannon over? Shannon glowed with post-orgasmic joy. Until that nasty duo, Mr. Shame and Mr. Guilt made their unwelcome appearance. Robbie recognized the symptoms, but chose to ignore them. Instead, he said, "Nice work, girls. What we did just then was pretty much the extent of how our guests will be able to engage you when you're on duty tomorrow night as whities. Your shift starts at 6, but be here to get ready by 5. This bag holds two babydolls for you to wear to bed tonight to get used to them. There are also two pairs of white sandals with two-inch heels. Practice walking in them and wear them tomorrow night. Bye." And he was gone. Leaving a frowning, guilt-ridden, clinging-to-his-precious-masculinity- and-heterosexuality Shannon behind. And leaving a smiling, eager-to- get-back-to-the-dorms and get-on-with-the-seduction-of his dorky-but- cute-roommate Terry being all sympathetic with Shannon. "I know that was painful for you. It was for me too, Shannon," Terry consoled. "But I learned in anthropology class that the species that survive aren't the strongest. It's the species that can adapt. And we can adapt and get our college education in a bold, untraditional way." Shannon looked at Terry through his teary eyes and saw a true friend. And an educated one to boot - quoting that anthropology stuff and all. Even though that was actually a maxim of biology, not anthropology. Shannon gritted his teeth and swore he would show no more fear or hesitance about Babydoll Boys around Terry. If Terry could endure, so could Shannon. Terry had a bit of an endurance agenda in mind when he and Shannon arrived back in their dorm room. He locked the door and began to look through the bag that Robbie had given them. He looked at Shannon and said, "If we're going to adapt we'd better do as Robbie said. You know. Wearing these and learning to walk in these heel things. What do you say, Shannon?" Shannon gulped. But showed no other fear or hesitance. He took the offered white confection and considered it. It seemed to be fashioned for a boy, rather than someone with breasts. And it was so filmy and [gasp] open that all of Shannon's body would be exposed to any leering pervert who stumbled into the venue. Shannon gulped and asked. "Are the matching [gasp] panties in the bag?" Terry pretended to search, but came up empty. "None of the hostesses wear panties at Babydoll Boys, Shannon. I guess that's why he didn't give us any." Shannon did a so-so job or showing no fear or hesitance at that news. Though he was deeply shocked. He wouldn't even be able to hide his penis and testicles from those disgusting perverts masquerading as customers? Oh! Shannon fought back tears. Terry hugged him. That felt nice. In a real, manly, fraternal way. "We'll get through this, Shannon," Terry said. He felt badly that Shannon had been forced into working at Babydoll Boys. But, based on Shannon's actions during their interview, Terry was also 99 percent sure that Shannon would love his new job in very short order. The boys broke the hug. Terry handed Shannon some Kleenex and watched as he blew his nose and wiped his tears. OK. Better. Terry went to his side of the room and began to strip his clothes off. Shannon bravely followed suit. Moments later, the lads were wearing their extremely revealing, filthily-gay babydolls. Sneaking glances at each other. Oh dear. Shannon was erect again! Why?!?!? Was he erect because he felt humiliated? Did he like humiliation? Was he erect because he saw how cute and girlish Terry looked in his white nightie? Did he "like" Terry? Or was he erect because he felt sexy for the first time in his life? The truth involved all three motivations, but Shannon wasn't ready to accept that yet. What he did seem ready to accept, however, was a full-body hug from Terry! And penises were a part of their full bodies. Oh dear. Rubbing his penis against Terry's felt way better than it should. That wasn't in the plan, was it? So why did it feel so good and so right? "You're so pretty, Shannon! I can't stop kissing you." Shannon didn't want Terry to stop. Even though it was gay and wrong and against a lot of what Shannon had thought all of his life. Shannon had never enjoyed anything more. And then... And then... Terry and Shannon shuddered against each other and spermed all over. Shannon squealed and squeaked. But didn't try to pull away. It was indescribably delicious. Mr. Shame and Mr. Guilt did their best to torment Shannon that night as they cuddled. They failed miserably. But that didn't mean he was ready for his first shift at Babydoll Boys. Chapter Three - First Night on the Job By 5:54 on Friday evening, our heroic boys were in their filmy, barely- there white babydolls, garter belts and stockings. Balancing on their two-inch-stiletto sandals. Even Terry was trembling. Mostly in sexual arousal. Shannon was trembling mostly in fear of the lousy louts he was sure would be the venue's clientele. So imagine Shannon's surprise when Robbie led the new girls onto the floor for the first time. There were perhaps 20 gentlemen at the gentlemen's club that Friday evening. Shockingly, they appeared to be actual gentlemen. Shannon guessed they ranged in age between 25 and 60. All well dressed. And seemingly polite to the five "whities," four "pinkies" and two "blackies" on duty that shift. On further review, Shannon saw that the blackies were sitting on two prosperous gentlemen's laps. Kissing them. Stroking their cocks. Oh. Shannon saw two other blackies emerge from under the table of two other "gentlemen." Oh dear! Was that sperm on their faces? It was. Terry gripped Shannon's hand to steady him. And they joined the fracas. Robbie stepped up the them and said, "Table three needs drinks and attention, Terry. Shannon to table five." The boys gave each other a brave look and wiggled over to their assignments. As it had been explained to them, whities schlepped overpriced drinks and submitted to sexual harassment by the customers. Whities were also to permit groping and petting of their "parts," as long as there was no penetration beyond a French kiss. They were "encouraged" to grope the customers as well. Pinkies' and blackies' duties exceeded those parameters. And so did their tips. Each babydoll worn by a hostess had a small pocket for tip money. Shannon needed tip money. Though he didn't want to do many of the unclean crimes against nature that would engender such tips. Shannon took a deep breath and wiggled over to table five. Four men. Prosperous looking. Mid-30s to early 40s. Well dressed. No obvious prison tattoos. Shannon cleared his throat and said, "Good evening, gentlemen. My name is Shannon. I'll be your server tonight. May I take your drink orders, please?" Well said, Shannon congratulated himself. Friendly. Concise. Good marketing. "Why isn't your little peeny stiff, Shannon?" one of the men said. "Don't you like us?" The other three roared with laughter. Shannon blushed and groped for words. A second man said, "I can get it stiff for you, Honey, as you take our drink order. How's that?" Actually, that sounded a lot better to Shannon than he would allow himself to accept. Plus he needed the tips. He stepped toward the man who made that rude offer and allowed him to skin his pretty knob as he wrote down what each man wanted. The other three watched in fascination as Shannon's cock grew from two scared inches to six aroused inches. The man was very handsome and a very good masturbator and Shannon was so ridiculously aroused. Poor Shannon. He cried out and shot his sperm. All over the man! The four of them watched Shannon's copious orgasm in stunned silence. It was horrible! Shannon would be fired for sure. Shannon would be turning tricks in the bus station men's room so he could buy Ramen noodles. But no. The men were delighted! Laughing happily. Congratulating the wanker and each slipping Shannon a $50 bill. $200! For enjoying a breathtaking orgasm. Oh my. Shannon fetched drinks for table five for two-and-a-half hours. And, oh yeah, the men (and Shannon) enjoyed more than the drinks. Shannon's remaining heterosexuality dissipated quickly. Until the previous day's shared pleasures with Robbie and Terry, Shannon hadn't really been heterosexual. He was asexual. So the first sexual pleasures that he experienced imprinted themselves on the young beauty. The first man at table five made Shannon very happy. And put Shannon all in. at least at the white babydoll level. The second man at table five had Shannon sit on his lap. He kissed Shannon. With tongue. As he wanked the boy's drooling penis to stiffness, then squealing orgasm. Of course Shannon returned the favor for the man. Then fetched drinks and returned for an on-lap kissing session with the third man. Who innovated sweetly by parting Shannon's nightie and giving the boy's nipples an amazing sucking. Number four had Shannon stand as he kissed and licked every bit of Shannon's perfect bum. Including, without penetrating, the pretty boy's [blush] bumhole. Oh dear. Shannon hadn't given Number One an orgasm. He did so, while sitting on the man's lap, French-kissing him and tormenting the arrowpoint on the knob of the man's penis with his thumb. Shannon was beginning to love his job. And, from the glances that Shannon was able to sneak to the other side of the room, Terry had enjoyed himself as well. By the time the four men left at 8:30, Shannon's tip total was obscene. It was break time for the "girls" until the next shift of patrons came at 9. Time for all of them to go to a back room, freshen their makeup, clean up the dried cum and change into fresh nighties. It was a bit of a ruckus back there, with everyone getting nude to put on fresh babydolls and fighting for scarce mirror space. Shannon tried to avoid looking at all the prime flesh, but several of the pinkies and blackies checked him out. Shannon and Terry had just slipped out of the babydolls they were wearing and were giggling a bit about their experiences thus far, when a nude pinkie introduced himself. "My name is Allison [All the pinkies and blackies took girl names], ladies. Haven't I seen you two beauties on the fourth floor of the Bumsticker Dorm?" Shannon blushed. Oh no. His secret was already out. Everyone in the dorm would know that... Wait. Allison wasn't telling anyone. He or she or whoever was a fellow perv-for-cash like Shannon and Terry. And a very pretty one! Shannon felt his penis stir. Terry was already hard in Allison's presence. Terry spoke up. "That's right. We're in room 422. Why don't you stop by sometime soon?" Shannon's head almost exploded. Was Terry setting up some sort of sex thing outside of Babydoll Boys for the two of them with Allison? That wasn't the plan. So why was his cock at full stand again? "I'll do that," Allison said. "You two are the cutest cuties we've had here in a long time." Shannon shuddered. That Allison person wanted to do sex things with him and Terry. Shannon was sure of it. That was disgusting! It was OK to do filthy, unnatural acts to survive, as Shannon was doing. But Allison wouldn't even tip them. Would she? But, darn it. Allison was cute. And she thought Shannon and Terry were cute too. Shannon put his fresh nightie on, fixed his makeup and glanced around the room. Oh! Two pinkies were kissing! There was a pinkie sucking a blackie's cock! And, [gasp] did that blackie have his tongue in that whitie's bumhole? Shannon got himself back onto the main floor quickly. Shannon was eager to see which distinguished, rich gentlemen would be giving him orgasms and big tips from 9:00 to 11:30. And then, at 8:58, Bluto Fratman and his five fraternity brothers came in and sat at table five. Shannon smelled danger. Big danger. Bluto smelled cum. A word about economics. Babydoll Boys was not cheap. Unless you call $1,000 per person per evening session cheap. Plus drinks. And tips. And upcharges for any "interactions" with pinkies and blackies. So the costs normally ensured a more exclusive clientele. Bluto and his drunken thugs were not exclusive. But Bluto had money. Lots. From a very nice trust fund, which ensured that he would probably never leave college. Bluto often paid when the frat boys partied. Which enhanced his popularity. But Shannon wasn't thinking of any of that. He was scared of the thugs he would have to serve. Drinks. And sex. And he saw no path to the big tips he had received from the previous bunch. Oddly, he was also concerned that after four orgasms, he wouldn't be able to put on as good a show as he had for the four previous gentlemen. Shannon trembled a bit as the six already-drunken louts took their seats and began to check Shannon out. He was beginning to regret his decision to wear an even skimpier, even shorter, even sexier, white babydoll than he had worn on his first shift. The college-boy miscreants wasted no time in taunting Shannon. "What a faggot!" one nasty said. "Great ass, Honey. How many cocks have been up that today?" And so on. Each potential felon contributed to the abuse. Making Shannon blush from humiliation. And almost cry. But wait. One of the unseemly six-pack wasn't emasculating Shannon. Bluto Fratman himself was holding back. And then stepping forward. "Here's what we want to drink, Shannon." And he rattled off the beverage preferences for each of his disciples. Grateful for the respite, Shannon wiggled off to the bar. When he returned, bearing the drinks, he was surprised at the hustle-bustle at the table. Shannon stood with his drink tray as each of Bluto's frat brothers grabbed his drink and left the table. Under Bluto's largesse, three of the lads had been matched with two pinkies and two had been matched with a blackie. Only Bluto was left at Shannon's table. Huh? Shannon handed Bluto his triple single-malt scotch. And wondered what had just happened. "Shannon's a pretty name," he said. Which is a long way from "What a faggot!" Oh my! Was it possible? Was the legendary Bluto Fratman smitten? "Please have a seat," Bluto said. Shannon hesitated. Did Bluto mean sit on his lap? Question answered when Bluto pushed back from the table and offered the young beauty his lap. Shannon hesitated again. Was he going to be the victim of some horrible fraternity prank? He didn't see any mirrors or trap doors. So he sat on Bluto's lap. "I'm sorry about my colleagues. They don't spend a lot of time in high-class places." Sorry? Colleagues? High-class? Was Bluto being charming? Was Shannon's penis stiff? Shockingly, the infamous Bluto Fratman was acting like a civilized being. Could he be [gasp] sober? Shannon got semi-comfortable on Bluto's lap, then naughtily eased his bum back where he could feel Bluto's considerable manliness in its aroused state. "Everyone at State U calls me 'Bluto,'" the surprisingly charming thug said, "But my real name is Randall. Only my Mom calls me 'Randy.' But you can call me that. If you want." Had Bluto just seen a young Jimmy Stewart movie where that great actor had shown truckloads of boyish charm? Shannon cleared his throat and said, "OK, Randy." Bluto smiled. "I think you're the prettiest girl I've seen around this town. And I've been here six years. So far." Oh! Shannon was all-over blushing at that. Bluto realized that Shannon was a boy, didn't he? I mean, Shannon's cock was sticking straight up, completely exposed and its "eye" was looking right at Bluto. Oh. Bluto touched Shannon's cock and held the shaft gently. Oh. Oh. Shannon squirmed at the unexpected pleasure that gave him. And he felt powerless to resist when Bluto moved in for a soft, closed- mouth kiss. Now, ladies and gentlemen, Bluto Fratman was not a skilled lover. By his own admission he hadn't been laid in months. But the evidence that he had dropped his boorish persona because of Shannon's charm and beauty was amazingly flattering, thus arousing, to the young, budding sissyboy. Oh dear. Bluto wasn't a great kisser, but he was more than adequate. And his tongue was pretty magical inside Shannon's mouth. And his fingers had begun to tease and please Shannon's cockhead very nicely. Shannon thought for an instant that he should be offering Bluto's cock equal pleasure, but it was still confined in Bluto's pants. So Shannon just surrendered to his own lust. The best kind of surrender. Shannon squealed softly as Bluto kissed him. Then screamed in erotic agony as Bluto's fingers produced Shannon's delicious spunkup. Oh! Shannon's cum drooled across Bluto's delighted fingers. The man/boy was elated that he could make the beautiful Shannon cum so profusely. Bluto hadn't intended that Friday to unfold as it had. He figured he and his boys would get drunk and have some nasty fun "humiliating the trannies." But then he saw Shannon. And Bluto, AKA Randall, AKA Randy Fratman was punctured by Cupid. Didn't plan on it. Wouldn't have selected it. But there it was. Bluto was half in love with Shannon. Who had been a "tranny" for about 30 hours. And had convinced himself that he was only offering his services to ensure his continued survival. Shannon's perceived motivation had morphed a bit since his pleasurable experiences with Robbie, Terry, and the four gentlemen of the first shift. Bluto knew none of that, of course. He just saw that the girl of his dreams wasn't a girl. But he was OK with that. Bluto's four-point strategy was a bit odd, but so was Bluto. Lose the louts - get rid of his "colleagues," who would only demean and sully his goddess. Take it slow - don't show Shannon his prick until they had known each other for at least an hour. Give Shannon lots of orgasms before he had had one - thus proving his unselfishness. Stay as reasonably sober as someone with a pickled liver could remain. Oddly, it seemed to be working. After Shannon settled down from his toe-curler, he cuddled with Bluto. Who loved exploring Shannon's bare flesh above his stocking tops. And sliding his fingers under Shannon's garter straps. Every time Shannon reached for Bluto's cock, Bluto gently redirected Shannon's hand, saying something like, "Let me revere you first, you beautiful angel. Which was exactly the kind of thing that restiffened Shannon's penis in record time. Bluto was aware of the Babydoll Boys' rules regarding sexual activities with whities, or he would have had Shannon stand so that Bluto could lick and suck Shannon's cock to a tasty conclusion. But he also knew that if he licked and kissed and didn't allow Shannon's penis inside his mouth, he wouldn't draw a large fine and a long suspension. So he asked Shannon to stand and face him. Shannon knew the rules too and hoped Bluto wouldn't break them. Though he would have liked Bluto to suck his cock at that moment. Bluto gave Shannon's balls the tastiest tongue bath. And then things got even better. Bluto couldn't penetrate Shannon's bumhole either - even with his fingers. But he could rub the wrinkle as he licked and kissed Shannon's pretty knob. Nicely done, Bluto. Was this Bluto's "first rodeo." Probably not. Shannon didn't care. He was already half in love with Bluto. Then he was spraying his spunk all over Bluto's face! And Bluto was loving it. Bluto was such a mess. It was a good thing that Shannon was able to lick all that sperm from Bluto's face. Then Shannon set out on equal cum for equal work. Over Bluto's half protests, Shannon extracted the man's penis from his pants. It was a nice one. Big and thick. And apparently in relatively new condition, considering that Bluto's life was about alcohol, not sex. Shannon got onto his knees and, following Bluto's lead, licked and kissed Bluto's knob and testicles. Remarkably, Bluto was able to hold back for 31 minutes. But then he groaned deeply [as all orgasming real men should] and pumped out several months of sperm and semen. Very nice. After all that, Shannon got onto Bluto's lap and they merely kissed and cuddled as Bluto told Shannon his life story and Shannon told Bluto how his Daddy had betrayed him with that hussy. And about how indigent he was. At 11:20, an "All ashore that's going ashore" type warning told the patrons to lose their loads since closing time was imminent. Bluto's drunken hooligans returned to Shannon's table to find their leader in an obviously intimate clinch with Shannon. Had they been sober and/or not beholden to Bluto for their funding, they may have teased Bluto about that. But it was eyes straight ahead for Bluto's troops on that one. Bluto gave Shannon an exceptional good night kiss and confirmed that he would stop by Shannon's dorm room at noon on Sunday. Shannon had lots to tell Terry in their room that night. And a $700 tip from Bluto. $1,500 in tips plus $250 in salary. Not bad. Chapter Four - Busy Saturday Shannon and Terry were tired and well-milked when, in boy clothes, they returned to their dorm room at 12:16 a.m. Rather than just fall into bed, however, they stripped nude and put on babydolls. They shared a bed for maximum cuddles. And almost immediately fell asleep. Neither wanted to answer their door when they heard hard knocking at 9:02 a.m. Terry roused his pretty little ass, slid on a robe and opened the door. Some guy. Looked familiar. Wait. It was Allison. But without makeup. In guy clothes. Still cute, though. And someone was with her. "Good morning, Terry," Allison said. "This is my roommate and fellow Babydoll Boy Vanessa. May we come in?" Terry was surprised, but intrigued. "Who is it, Terry?" Shannon mumbled from the bed. "it's Allison from Babydoll Boys, Honey. And her roommate, Vanessa. Should I send them away?" Shannon connected his brain neurons and said, "Don't you dare." The two visitors were ushered in. Vanessa asked Terry, "So she's the one who conquered the infamous scoundrel, Bluto Fratman?" Shannon overheard and had two thoughts. She didn't mind that Vanessa was using female pronouns for her and Terry. And she was kind of proud that she was known as sexy and beautiful enough to tame the Fratman beast. Vanessa continued. "She's a pretty one, all right. Even without makeup or a wig. But I hope the two of you will femme up and join us for some fun." Shannon and Terry liked the idea of fun. Allison told the new girls of an off-campus apartment that was rented from a contribution by each Babydoll Boys employee - $100 per month. Each. Peanuts from what that were making. "Let's grab your stuff, get over there and have fun all day. Nobody works two days in a row at Babydoll Boys, so there should be lots of people who worked last night. But honestly, I'm a little hungry for Shannon and Vanessa is hungry for Terry." Shannon creamed his nightie. Which set off a giggle storm among the sissies. Shannon and Terry threw on tshirts, boy shorts and flip flops, then ran down the hall for morning tinkles and tooth brushing. They didn't have cosmetics at the dorm, only three babydolls each. But Allison said that there would be plenty of that stuff at the apartment. A short, brisk walk later, Vanessa closed and locked the door to a functional, three-bedroom flat. "We're early, so we can grab the bedrooms first. Terry, could you and I use this bedroom to get changed and then, whatever?" Terry smiled most sweetly and nodded shyly. And they were behind a closed door. That left Allison and Shannon. Shannon, who until less than 48 hours earlier, considered herself a committed, manly heterosexual. Which had been, and promised to continue being, no fun at all. "I think this foundation will work for you, sweetie," Allison said. And the two sissies did their faces side by side. In the nude. Which made them hurry. Despite their commitment to the fine garment known as the babydoll, Allison and Shannon were only able to restrain their lust to the point where they had put on their sheer, black stockings and garter belts. Allison, who as a pinkie, delivered at least six or seven testicle- blasting blowjobs a night when on duty, set in to give Shannon a delicious, off-duty preview of paradise. It was Shannon's first, actual blowjob, since Bluto had been only able to lick the outside and not comfort Miss Happy in the wet, warm Happy Cave. Oh, baby. Not babydoll. Baby! Shannon looked down to see Allison on her knees. Beautiful eyes locked with hers. Licking and sucking. Adoring Shannon's glans. She was happy that they had omitted high heels from their ensembles that day, because she was sure she would have crashed and burned. Shannon erupted with a cry of sexual agony that seemed to expel the last masculine demon from her delicious body. Allison sensed the significance of that cry from a new recruit like Shannon. And was proud and happy that she could deliver. After Shannon returned to her host galaxy, she was eager to impart the same erotic fury to Allison's loins. And very nice loins they were. She asked Allison to stand, then got onto the sissy's favorite position - on her knees! Allison's penis was ridiculously stiff and dripping like an ice cream cone on the beach. Shannon contemplated her feast, then dug in. Kissing Allison's pretty ball bag first, then licking the exposed thigh parts immediately adjacent. Making Allison wait for her cocksucking! Teasing. Then kissing her way up Allison's cock shaft. Slowly. Pausing to ensure continued eye contact with Allison. Shannon was delighted to see the fire of lust in Allison's eyes. Then Shannon granted her newest friend mercy. She took Allison's leaky knob into her pretty mouth and gave it the hospitality it deserved. Licking. Sucking gently. Pausing to "give it air" as she kissed all around its tender flesh. Then submerging it again. Poor Allison. She wanted it to go on forever. You know the feeling, But she couldn't hold back Mr. Cummage. Who was eager to see what all the fuss was out there. Let it be recorded that Shannon Spunkmore received her first mouthful of sperm that very day and disposed of it in a manner consistent with the highest standards of sissification. She swallowed. Then licked her lips. Smiled at her lover. Took out her lipstick. Touched her lips up. Then used those lips to tease and lick and arouse her lover's droopy cock into a second stand. The girls then got onto the bed and lay face-to-face. Long, black-stocking-covered legs stretched. Toes pointed sexily. Kissing and rubbing hard dicks. It was an amazingly erotic sight for Terry and Vanessa as they stood in the doorway. Wearing pink stockings and garters. Penises dripping from their recent, delightful activity. Vanessa cleared her throat. Shannon jumped. Afraid that the FBI, DEA, CIA, MI6 and PTA were raiding the apartment. But she was delighted to see that two fresh cocks and their pretty owners had arrived. "We had to vacate, because the place is filling up and the four of us were hogging two of the three bedrooms. May we join you?" "Oh, yes. Please," Shannon blurted out. Making the other three laugh good-naturedly. "I love what a little cockhound you're becoming, Honey," Terry said. "I must admit, I thought it would take you a little longer to get there with the rest of us, but welcome." Shannon smiled. Then thought, "Wait a minute. Did Terry just admit that she was a 'cockhound' before she started giving me moral support by working at Babydoll Boys with me? I could have never guessed." Proving once again that the sissy bimbo is not extinct. Shannon shrugged it off. Because Vanessa had peeled Shannon away from Allison and was giving her a spectacular kiss and penis-to-penis rub. Terry and Allison also found bliss and each other that day. Chapter Five - Randy's lucky day. Despite a Saturday to remember forever, Shannon was a bit anxious about her impending "date" with Randy (AKA Bluto) Fratman. Shannon didn't have any "outside" girl clothes. And she didn't want Bluto to see her in boy clothes. Which said something about the new Shannon, didn't it? Luckily, Bluto amended the plan a bit. He texted Shannon with new instructions (how the heck did Bluto get Shannon's number?). "Please got to the Shilton Hotel at 11 a.m. They have a room key for you. Everything you need is in the room. I'll join you at 12:30. Love, Randall" Love? Shilton Hotel? Everything Shannon needed? So much to process. But Shannon liked Bluto. And it appeared that Bluto had money to burn. Which is a very attractive trait in any budding relationship. Shannon followed the instructions, though she blushed a bit when she asked the male desk clerk for the room key. Did the clerk give Shannon a flirty look? Maybe not. Oh my. It was the best suite in the very expensive hotel. With a bed the size of Monaco. And a wardrobe of feminine finery on racks and in a table display. All in Shannon's size. And all quite sexy. There was also a lovely vanity with mirrors and a wide array of cosmetics and upscale perfumes. Shannon wept. Bluto had done all that for Shannon! There was only one possible way she could react. Sexy up and fuck his brains out. Even though Shannon had never been "fucked." Allison, Vanessa and Terry had told her all about it the day before during some of their recuperation periods. If a sissy didn't fuck a man for something like Shannon was looking at, she couldn't call herself a true sissy. Shannon only had 82 minutes to get ready for her man. She needed every one of them. But the results were amazing. At 12:30, Bluto could have just let himself in with a key, but he was on his best behavior. Behavior that was paying big dividends. He knocked. Shannon opened the door. And there she was. Wearing a 1,000-watt smile; black, seamed, fully- fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings; a ruffled, black garter belt; a lacy, black bra that exposed kissable nipples; a sheer, black peignoir; three-and-a-half-inch, black, stiletto pumps; and White Shoulders perfume. No panties. Bluto's heart skipped several beats. And his penis was disgracefully erect. Shannon ushered him in. Then asked the killer question. "Is this all for me? To keep?" Bluto smiled. And knew just where his cock would be within the hour. "Of course, Honey. And the suite is yours too. As long as you want it." It was Shannon's turn to skip heartbeats. It was almost too much to comprehend. That amazing wardrobe! That even had lots of "outside" outfits. Which meant Shannon would never have to wear boy clothes again. She started to cry. "You're too good to me, Randy." Bluto thought, "Oh no. You're about to be better to me than I am to you." But what he said was, "Oh no. You deserve better than what you're getting from life. You're so sweet and beautiful." That was all the talking. Shannon took Bluto by the hand. Led him to the bed, shucked her peignoir and shoes as he stripped to a very nice nude. And they got to work on the gratitude thing. Would Bluto fuck her first? She certainly hoped so. Good thing Bluto had done his research on anal sex. Shannon needed preparation. Which could double as foreplay. They kissed first, of course. Shannon was remarkably hungry for Bluto physically. And it wasn't just that he was rich and generous, but that helped. As Lorelei Lee (Marilyn Monroe) said in "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes": "Don't you know that a man being rich is like a girl being pretty? You wouldn't marry a girl because she's pretty, but my goodness, doesn't it help?" Bluto was eager to prove that he was more than a deep wallet. So he broke the deep, Frenchie kissathon a bit early and repositioned Shannon so she was almost sitting on his face. Shannon had no idea that she was going to be eaten out that lovely Sunday. In fact, she didn't fully believe that people did that sort of thing to each other. She became a believer when Bluto's tongue struck gold. Right in the old mother lode! That man's tongue was in Shannon's asshole!! Her asshole!! And she loved it. He was a ravenous beast. And Shannon feared for her life. Which made it all much more thrilling. And made Shannon scream and ejaculate in helpless ecstasy. Bluto liked that. Post-orgasmic Shannon was too weak to resist when Bluto entered her with three Spermbutt Anal Lubricant-slathered fingers. And she was as ready as she would ever be for her first fucking. Shannon was completely docile as Bluto positioned her onto all fours. He bent over, gave her rosebud one last kiss and lick, and kneeled behind her. Shannon was eager for a fucking, but not eager for the inevitable, "first-time" pain. Thank goodness it was relatively mild. What Shannon mostly felt was girlish. Her man, who had been a good provider. Like Caveman slaying the saber- tooth tiger so that he and Cavewoman could have tiger tacos for dinner that evening. Instincts. Female instincts. Good ones. Bluto was thinking of none of that. Only about how to best achieve his next orgasm. Instincts. Male instincts. Good ones. Shannon was so astonishingly beautiful. And her ass was so hot and hospitable. And she was dressed so sexily. And smelled so good. And her asshole gripped his cock so well. And she was grunting and squealing and screeching as he fucked her. Proving that Bluto was the MAN! That did it! Bluto spunked. Big spunk. Wet! Debilitating. Delightful. Bluto was in love. Shannon was in lust. It was a great Sunday. Chapter Six - Monday Shannon stretched and woke. It was 7:30 a.m. On Shannon's first full day as a non-virgin. Shannon blushed a little as the memories of the last night flashed through her rapidly feminizing brain. Oh dear. Did she really swallow all that cum spurting out of Bluto's ample cock? Had she really taken FOUR loads of Bluto's cum into her happily ravaged bumhole? Oh yes. It had been a great night. And it augured well for Shannon's future. A future of men pursuing her to satisfy their legion of despicable urges. And satisfying Shannon's own considerable list of her own despicable urges. Shannon stretched, then looked around for Bluto. Where was that spunky scamp? She got up and stretched again. When had she put that pink babydoll on? Oh, yeah. Around midnight when she wanted to awaken Bluto for another fucking. Men can be such nappers after sex. Where was he? Oh. A note by the brewing coffee pot. "My Darling, Shannon. Thank you for the best night a man could ever dream of. I have lots to do today. I know you're working at Babydoll Boys tonight and I'm fine with that. Don't want to stifle your career. Plus I know you enjoy it. I'll call you this afternoon. Love you. Randall." Oh my Goodness! Bluto UNDERSTOOD Shannon! And her needs! The world's most powerful aphrodisiac. Shannon DID want to work her shift at Babydoll Boys that night. And she did want Bluto in her bed. But what she wanted most was breakfast. They seemed to have skipped dinner and lunch the day before. So she called room service, put on a robe and went in the bathroom to use a washcloth, shave and brush teeth. Ten minutes later she was clean and free of dried cum. Breakfast was on the suite's table. She attacked it and considered her next moves. The suite had two bedrooms. Terry seemed to know a lot more about pantyboyism than Shannon did. Therefore, Shannon called Terry. One hour later, Terry was at the suite door. Bags packed with her stuff and Shannon's meager possessions. Kisses. Welcomes. Terry moved in. Moved her bags in. Then moved her clothes off. Then moved Shannon into the shower. Where they soaped and rubbed and kissed and grunted and stroked and poked and shot their wet balljuices all over each other. It was going to be the funnest suite in the hotel for sure. Shannon and Terry skipped their classes that day, but vowed to get back to that part of their lives the following day. Because nobody likes a dumb sissy. Unless she's really pretty. And has a giving personality. Around 4 p.m. the girls got themselves dressed in skirts and heels for their trip to Babydoll Boys. Terry, who always seemed to have a better view of the big picture than Shannon, cautioned Shannon about Mondays at Babydoll Boys. "It's 'Molest a Schoolgirl Night,'" Terry said. "We dress up like schoolgirls and the men, one for each of us, try to talk us out of our panties. There are no whities, pinkies or blackies. Everyone gets $300 per hour. The men pay triple the usual fee." Shannon's eyes got wide. "Can they FUCK us?" "Only if we want them to. No restrictions." Shannon's loins tingled. As did her cell phone. It was Bluto! Terry could see that Shannon was all lovey dovey with Bluto, but couldn't hear what they were saying. She could see that Shannon was very excited. Shannon eventually hung up. And she told Terry what was up. "Randy paid my tuition and fees for the next four years - longer if I need it, he said." Terry was stunned. Shannon must have been an amazing piece of ass! "Did he ask you for anything in return?" Shannon was crying happy tears. "Tuesdays," she said. "Tuesdays?" "He wants to make love to me every Tuesday from 6 p.m. until 9 the next day. We can see each other more often if I like, but he wants Tuesdays." It was true, Terry thought. Poor, little, sissy bimbo Shannon was a witch! She had to be. Chapter Seven - Molest a Schoolgirl Night Shannon and Terry looked beautiful in their full makeup, skirts, heels and stockings when they arrived at Babydoll Boys for Molest a Schoolgirl Night. But they were way off theme. As whities on their second working night, they had to remove all their makeup, then reapply just blush and hair ribbons. Bare legs too, except for frilly, turned-over, white, short, girlie socks. And black, patent-leather, single-strap, Mary Jane shoes. The girls wore plaid skirts that ended just above the knee. Cotton training bras. White blouses with page collars. And white, cotton panties. Every molester's dream! Even though the girls were 18-plus. And eager to be molested. Terry was ready for Molest a Schoolgirl Night. She had discussed it with Vanessa and was ready to lay on a convincing, though fictitious backstory to her customers. She hoped, hoped, hoped that her very own pervert for the first shift that evening would be hung and handsome. Terry's luck held. He said his name was "Fred." And there was a circular paleness on his ring finger. But he was handsome. Early 40s. Terry would find out soon enough if Fred was hung. She was shy, but flirty when she introduced herself and asked Fred for his drink order. He said he wasn't thirsty because he was distracted by her beauty. Terry giggled. "Would you like to sit on my lap, Sweetie?" he asked. "I don't think so, Mister," Terry replied firmly. "Daddy says I shouldn't talk to strangers." "Two questions, Sweetie. Why do you think I'm a stranger? I told you my name was Fred. And do you always do what your Daddy tells you?" Terry looked charmingly taken aback by the multiple questions. As if she couldn't decide which to answer first. Or couldn't remember both questions. Or how to answer. More of that "bimbo" thing. Fred liked it. So he moved on. He beckoned Terry to sit on his lap. And she slowly, grudgingly almost, did so. She looked a little scared. Perfect. He placed his hand on her pretty knee. She gasped. "Daddy said..." Before she could finish that message from Daddy, Fred was kissing Terry. Closed mouth. But kissing. Terry resisted just long enough, then surrendered to the kiss. "Did you like that, Sweetie?" A shy nod. "Did anyone ever kiss you like that?" Terry started to say something, then stopped. Fred pressed the point. "Uncle Mike kissed me at the lake last summer." Fred was having a great time. And Terry's tip was growing. "Were you swimming at the lake with Uncle Mike?" A shy nod. "Were you and Uncle Mike wearing bathing suits?" Another shy nod. "Part of the time. It was my first two-piece suit and I was feeling kind of bare. Uncle Mike told me I looked very pretty in it." "Did Uncle Mike take your bathing suit off you?" Terry's eyes grew wide. As if the man knew everything about her. Move over Meryl Streep. "Did Uncle Mike touch your private parts?" Terry just blushed. The big question: "Did you like it?" Bigger blush. And Fred had his answer. "How old are you, Sweetie?" "Eleven. And a half." Actually Terry was 18 and a half. But it was "lie to excite" night. Fred pulled one out of the molester's playbook and said, "Really. I would have guessed 14 or 15 at least. You're very mature." Terry smiled. Fred was as good at this as Terry was. "I can see why your Uncle Mike wanted to make love to you. You're gorgeous. May I kiss you again?" Terry cast her eyes down then raised her head, parted her lips and looked directly at Fred. Fred dove in for a hungry, open-mouth kiss. Delivered well. And responded well by Terry. Lots of tongue. Intense. Distracting Terry from Fred's rude, right hand which slid slowly across Terry's silky, right thigh. Almost all the way to Terry's crowded panties. The "big reveal" was imminent. Both actors performed their roles well. Fred's fingertips touched the manly lump inside Terry's cotton panties. And quickly withdrew. Then his fingers moved back in. Surveying the "sissy things" through the panties. Breaking the kiss. "Terry!" Fred said in the best startled voice he could manage. "What's all this doing in a pretty girl's panties?" Terry gasped. And began to cry. Actually cry. "I'm sorry. It's how I was born. Please don't hurt me. Uncle Mike didn't hurt me when he discovered Mr. Sausage and my two little plums. He loved me. A lot. All day." "I can see why he loved you, Honey. You're not just beautiful. You're sweet. And generous." Terry smiled and parted her thighs a little. And moaned softly and wriggled as the man tongue-kissed her and stroked her through her little-girl panties. Oh dear! It seemed that all that wriggling seemed to have helped Fred to remove Terry's panties! Al the way to mid-thigh. She was "all bare" under her skirt. And the man was giving Terry an exceptionally nice feelup as he tongued her tonsils. Terry was gasping for air as the man fondled her nutsack. He knew just how to arouse and amuse a pretty sissyboy without harming her precious jewels. Was the rude molester trying to slide a stiff finger into Terry's heinie as he kissed her? It appeared he was. The man rearranged Terry onto her feet. Had her step completely out of her panties. And lift her skirts. Fred took Terry's aching penis into his mouth and adored it exquisitely. As two insolent fingers found Terry's prostate. Terry was having an excellent Monday evening. The man had definitely molested before. Let's hope it was only with those of legal age and with their full consent. Of course, Terry was considering none of that at that moment. All she could do was squeal and squirt. Into Fred's hot, wet mouth. Had Fred proposed marriage at that point, Terry would have accepted. And he hadn't even fucked her yet. That, of course, occurred soon after. Terry and Fred packed so much into their 2.5 hours of bliss that Terry was having trouble relating it all to Shannon as they cleaned up, fixed up and dressed up for their second shift that evening. Shannon, it appears, had been molested and fucked too, of course. And it was...nice. But Shannon hadn't gone in with a theme. She just let the man molest her. And was only tipped $200! Terry had received $1,000 for setting the scenario so well. Terry suggested that Shannon play, "Please change my grade from a C to an A, Teacher. Daddy will spank me if you don't." Sounded good to Shannon. The girls were dressed as 13-year-old Catholic schoolgirls. White knee socks. Penny loafers. A plaid skirt too short for school rules. White blouse. White training bra. White silk panties. The girl's makeup was a bit more grown up. Even a bit around the eyes. Makeup fixed. Costume in place. The girls went out to face round two. Shannon liked who she saw for her second rounder. He was older. Approaching 60 maybe. Very fit and handsome. And seemed to be startled by Shannon's beauty. Shannon ditched Terry's suggested scenario and improvised. She ran to the man, threw her arms around him and said, "Oh, Grandpa, I'm so happy you can babysit me after school today. We always have such fun, don't we?" The man seemed startled, but recovered and said, "I'm happy to see you too, Honey. And remember, today I promised that Grandpa and you would have 'special fun' together." Shannon stepped back and looked "Grandpa" in the face. "More special than last time when I took your big thing into my mouth and sucked all the cream out?" "Yes, Honey. Are you wearing panties today?" Shannon giggled. "Yes, Grandpa. But I'll take them off for you." And she did so. The man's eyes sparkled. What an angel his "granddaughter" was. And so in love with him. OK. It was all fantasy. But what the heck, right? "I see you're nice and stiff for me, Honey. Would you like me to relieve your pain?" "Oh, yes, Grandpa. It hurts when it's stiff like this. I love the way you make it all better." The man sat in a chair and had the standing Shannon slide her stiffie into his mouth. Mmmmm. For both of them. Shannon had only cum twice on her first shift, so she was extra randy for Grandpa. And Grandpa knew how to suck a sissy cock. As he slid two fingers into Shannon's lovely bum. Thrilling Shannon as she agonized ecstatically while Grandpa licked her knob. And beginning to get her ready for the massive fucking that she was sure would follow next. Shannon loved working at Babydoll Boys. And she loved being with her financial benefactor, Randy Fratman. Tomorrow was Tuesday. Randy's day with Shannon. She loved living with Terry and wearing all the girlish gear Randy had provided for them. She loved her future. Long-term as a well-fucked, well-loved girl. And short-term when Grandpa's "special fun" would include, at a minimum, having her lovely ass eaten, then fucked to perfection. What she didn't like was the thought of wearing boy clothes to her classes the next day. Or any day. Just before she began to scream, shudder and helplessly ejaculate into her Grandpa's mouth, Shannon resolved to never wear boy clothes again. A resolution we can confirm she kept. Please tell me what you think at [email protected].