An Interesting Profession Part 3 free porn video

An Interesting Profession Part Three By Virginia Kane Standard caveat applies. Please do not post onto any other website without express written permission of the authoress. If reading explicit adult fiction is illegal where you live, or if you are not yet eighteen years of age, read no further and go do something innocent and constructive. 1. My employment as a model was to end soon, due in part to the completion of the summer fashion catalog for which I was hired. I had taken on the job because my employer offered me a ridiculous rate of pay to sit around in skimpy feminine attire, because to him, I looked like a prepubescent co-ed. I was reluctant to disagree with his dubious perception of my appearance because in the end, he was right, sort of. I was soft and cute looking because of my genetic heritage, in part, and because I had been taking my mother's unused HRT medication by mistake. I incorrectly assumed the change in shape and size of the pills was due to my doctor's approval of a generic substitute for my diabetes meds. The pills looked almost the same. Anyway, now that my bank account was replenished again with the lucrative income I made during the summer, I arranged to see my guidance counsellor before the fall semester which was about to begin. At over three grand each week my recently earned income added up to over twenty thousand dollars, more than enough for the next year's tuition, board, and then some. To insure my continued employment as a catalog model, I had agreed to get collagen treatments for my puffy looking chest four times over the preceding weeks. In addition, I spent a significant portion of the month figure sculpting my body in body suits or restrictive corsetry to encourage my torso to look more feminine in the photos of me. The monetary benefits I derived seemed worth the temporary minor inconvenience of wearing tight fitting garments. The outer, mostly feminine styled clothing I was wearing fit me fine, and were free of charge, because Mr. McMasters: my photographer / employer indicated that I could keep them, once I'd worn them for a photo shoot. At my meeting with my college guidance counsellor, she took one look at my student I.D. and exclaimed. "My, you changed a lot since you started college. Haven't you? Are you really Melvin Court, the accounting major?" I merely nodded in agreement. "I assure you that my present attire is purely job related. I modeled for a catalog all this summer and I get to keep the clothes I model, so why not wear them when not attending class. Clothes are merely clothes and they fit well enough, don't you agree? I'll bet you don't have any criticisms for women who walk around wearing men's clothes. Why should I waste my resources needlessly to buy men's clothes, if I can wear nice looking clothes like these totally free of charge?" "You kids have a logical answer for all your quirks! I don't care honey. You can wear goulashes in the summertime if it pleases you. Now then, you've applied for a statistics course in connection with your declared major in accounting. Unfortunately that course had to be cancelled. It required the acquisition of new computer equipment that has been cut from our budget. "There's another problem: the intermediate accounting class you requested is already full. Do you really want to attend a class with a bunch of staid conservatives? As long as you're trend setting, why not take a break from accounting for a semester or two? Dressing for class the way you are dressed now you'll keep those conservatives from concentrating on their class work, and you will have your male classmates fighting over the seat next to you to get closer to you to ogle your --- impressive looking attributes." "Well, at least I'm being noticed nowadays. Dressed in my guy's clothes, no one ever paid the least bit of attention to me. I used to be one of those boring conservatives you just described. Now everyone runs ups and wants to say 'hi' to me. I like being a center of attention for a change. I got tired of being the class wallflower. As a dull guy, I was a total washout. Dressing as a girl, I'm sexy and demure looking. Guess which one is more fun, coach." "Seems to me you'd fit in better within a progressive minded Liberal Arts program, rather than a conservative accounting curriculum. You've taken a few drama courses in the past. Why not amend your declared major? Then you could apply for membership in an LGBT group. They're seeking leaders in the student body and are offering scholarships to qualified candidates. In that outfit, I'd say you'd fit right in with liberal minded drama majors." She went on to describe the program. "I think you'll have a good chance at landing one of those scholarships. Later, if you so desire, you can re-declare your major back to the school of business. Do you really like accounting as your primary line of work? You seem to have a more vibrant personality. " "I used to be a died-in-the-wool introvert. Something happened to me this summer to change all that. I initially sought an accounting degree to meet the kind of woman who'd appreciate a stick in the mud. Now, I'm not sure if I want to pursue that line of work. Maybe I do need to change my major." "I think you'll find an alternative lifestyle more rewarding, too." Oh, I don't want that kind of change! For several years, I'd been badgered into believing I was inferior to my peers by everyone I knew. Now, at last I'm admired by everyone I meet. I feel like the ugly duckling that has turned into a graceful swan. Can you blame me for wanting to bask in the sun for a little while, before I have to settle down and go to work for a living?" "If you can get away with it, even for a little while, I say: you go for it girl!" "I'm going to try. How hard is it to change majors?" "You'll have much better luck finding a progressive minded paramour in the Liberal Arts program. Men there are more likely to take interest in a good looker who can't take them to task for robbing her of her virginity." "On that score, you have me all wrong, for I'm only interested in women. I'm a virgin, and I intend to remain one until I find the girl of my dreams." "Oh, do you intend to live as a quasi-lesbian by dressing as a woman?" My, she was being inquisitive! "No ma'am, I'd like to be a homemaker for a bread-winning power driven woman. I'll gladly become her house husband, and I intend to raise our kids to respect all kinds of people, regardless of their views on life, even if they don't ascribe to the prevailing lifestyles imposed by society." "You definitely are Avant- guarde! You belong in Liberal Arts, and not in an accounting program. Let me set up your next semester's schedule for you." "Oh, I don't think I have to change everything right away. Do you?" "I do, for you own safety. If you ever get caught posing as a girl by one of those arch conservative types, don't come running to me. Heaven help you! Some men can get nasty if they find out a lady isn't really a lady. You ought to reconsider who you would like to befriend during the coming months. "Incidentally, if you ever intend to resume pursuing a degree in accounting, where do you intend to reside? You can't live on campus in a dorm, and I doubt if you'll find a classmate who will share an off-campus residence with you. On the other hand, as a drama major, if you'll transfer to the School of Liberal Arts, you can attend classes in your home town at a branch campus affiliated with a theatrical company and save on housing costs." "Are any drama classes held near Chicago? That's where I'm living now." "Yes, you can apply for a scholarship to attend classes there. You can also join the theatrical company near there as an unpaid thespian volunteer. They won't pay you in cash, but you'll gain plenty of experience and some college credit without any cost to you, other than your commuting costs. It'll be mostly bit parts and stage crew work, but the program unlocks doors to the field that would otherwise be difficult to access." She checked her program records and was able to find me classes that would allow me long weekends, to attend rehearsals for theatrical productions. She provided all the particulars and promised to let me know right away if there would be any changes. She also provided me with several forms to apply for scholarship grants. If they'd keep my health insurance in force, I'd do it! My next stop was my endocrinologist's office. The expected paperwork from the analyst had finally arrived. My endocrinologist was able to provide a new prescription for maintenance level hormones. I looked sweet enough to pass as a cute female in public, so I'd be able to save money on street wear, and continue to work as a model between my new classes since I'd be taking them in town. Taking stronger hormones would interfere with my reproductive ability, according to her. I didn't want that to happen, no sir! When I returned to the studio, I found Betty and Grant sharing a passionate embrace. Oops! I wasn't expecting it and I didn't want to be an interloper. Instead, I wanted to quietly leave the studio and then return, making a lot of noise in the process, but they had seen me and told me not to bother. "Sorry, my appointments took so long, but my student counsellor revamped my entire schedule for the fall semester. Good news, I'll be attending class here in town instead of downstate. Also, I'll be going to class from Mondays thru early Thursdays, so I'll be able to work long weekends. Maybe I should have asked you first if you'll need me, Mr. McMasters, but if you don't I can work in a theatrical production company that uses students pro bono." Betty asked, "What kind of theatrical company utilizes accounting students?" "Oh," I responded. "I've decided to change my major, temporarily, so I can remain available to model for Grant, if he'll need me. I felt bad about going back downstate to attend college. It's like I'd be leaving him without giving him proper notice. I was hoping there was a way I could do both: continue to work and stay in school. The merits of attending college are too numerous to ignore. For one thing, the health insurance is reasonable, far less expensive than a CHIP program, and the coverage is better." Betty added sarcastically, "I don't suppose bunking here free has anything to do with your decision." She shocked me. I thought she was my devoted ally! "I have to admit that it did. If I have to rent my own apartment, it'll put a huge dent in my budget. I'm willing to cook, clean and do whatever else Grant wants in exchange for his putting me up." Grant interjected, "I'd much rather you spend the time working for me if there's any work available. Betty isn't making the decision about whether or not you can stay, not for now leastwise. She's here primarily to assist you, and I've been allowing her to bunk with you to save on time, and to save everyone a few bucks. I have the extra room, so why not let you 'gurls' use it? If you decide to leave now Mel, Betty can stay on for the time being. If you two care to continue using my apartment, that's entirely up to you. You both can stay here as long as you'd like. I enjoy the company." I responded, "Aw, that's so sweet of you, Grant! Certainly, I'll stay! Are you sure it's okay? I mean: what if you don't need me to model for you?" Betty mewed, "Wait a minute! Damn it! I --- I already advised my bitchy landlady she could rent out my lousy bedsit, for all I care, when she told me she had someone else offering her more money! I'd been living there month to month, without a lease for over a year, hoping to find Mr. Right in the meantime. She's been threatening to raise my rent for months, and I kept dodging the bullet. Now, I feel stranded, if Grant wants me to leave. " Grant surprised the both of us with, "I'll gladly be your Mr. Right, if you'll have me, Betty. You two 'gurls' have shown me that living alone can be a real 'drag'. You and I have known each other for a long time, Betty. I'll feel lost and abandoned after spending the past few months with the two of you around, especially you: Betty. Whether or not Mel stays on, you can stay if you want to. I want you to." He took her in his arms and kissed her, showing us he was capable of expressing desire, even if he wasn't able to sweep her off her feet with macho bravado. "You can bunk with me in my bedroom, where it'll be cozier instead of with Mel, who claims that she wants a woman to love. She can use the space for a computer desk and study station. She wants to continue her education, and I support her in that ambition, so it stands to reason for her to be able save a few bucks by staying here with us, even if I don't have much work for her." I spoke up. "I'll be glad to pay you rent, Grant! It'll be right and fair for me to pay you for my fair share of what it costs you from now on. I was unsure of what was to become of me when we first met, but now that I know what lies ahead, for the short term, at least, I want to provide my share." Betty said, "Me too!" Grant thanked both of us, and said he'd rather we lived together as a family. "I'm old enough to be your father, Mel. I may not look it, but I'm fairly sure that Betty and I are nearly the same age, so we have a lot more in common. Between us, we can act as your surrogate parents, if you'd like." "It's fine with me, as long as you don't start taking away privileges; telling me what to do, like my real folks used to do." "You may get a sound spanking from me, young lady, if and when you get out of line, so you'd better behave yourself!" Betty kidded. That smart remark came right out of her mouth, and I had a sneaky feeling she'd enjoy spanking me too much! "Yes, ma'am," I mimicked, not wanting to find out right away, if she was serious or not. Grant piped in, "On a positive note, you won't have to worry about coming up with money to pay your share of the expenses around here, because I'm close to acquiring a contract for photographing this fall's sales flyer for my best client. Guess what they want to feature that hasn't been done before?" "How would I know? I don't even know what's been featured in the past?" "They're introducing a full line of femininely styled outer wear designed to be worn by the average adult male, and they liked what they've seen of you so far, so much, they want you to be their principal model. They even design clothes for more mature men, so Betty can be involved as a model, as well." "That's great! Will we be paid the same as before?" "Unfortunately, no, you won't! I made that concession to you, Mel, because I was about to lose that client. Now, I want you to return the favor and take a cut in pay. I'll pay you the base rate of thirty dollars an hour, plus your room and board which still adds up to great money, when you think about it. That leaves me with enough to make ends meet around here. What's fair is fair!" Betty and I went into a mock "whispering" conference in his full view, so he could give us the raspberries for it afterwards. We both knew it would be fair to all of us to let Grant make more profit. "Okay, it's a deal!" we responded. "I should have asked for more of a concession. You 'gurls' gave in too easy! Are you going to offer to pay me any rent?" "Thou protested too much!" Betty told him. "You already are getting to many fringe benefits!" Grant countered. "Like what?" Betty asked. "You, for one will get to sleep with the boss!" He teased and began to chase her around the kitchen's food prep island. She ran off into his bedroom, and he followed, closing the door swiftly behind him. It got awfully quiet behind that closed bedroom door, so I retreated to Betty and my bedroom to assess what kind of desk and bookcase I'd like. Betty's bed was already missing from my bedroom. Apparently, those two had made their plans without telling me, while I was away running my errands. I wondered if they had a thing going between them before I came upon the scene, or was this arrangement an outgrowth of my summer adventure into modeling. Each of them needed someone to fill the void in their lives, so it didn't matter why or how their decision to become a couple came about. They didn't come out of that bedroom until it was time for dinner, four hours later. Betty's hair was a mess, and Grant looked worn out, so she must have given him one hell of a ride. I was happy for them, and let them know that it was nice of them to not ask me move out, so they could have more privacy. "We wouldn't think of it! We're a team!" they said, almost in unison. I got the impression they rehearsed that response ahead of time, too. I smiled and thanked them both for feeling that way. They initiated a three way hug and kiss fest, that I didn't dare avoid, after their supportive declaration. After living with the two of them for two months, I was almost used to being touched intimately by Betty, who claimed she only did it to encourage me to delve further into portraying womanhood. I knew full well Betty was a male like me under all her makeup, though she looked and acted so much like a natural born woman, it was hard for me to deny her subtle advances. When we sat down around the kitchen island together to plan dinner, Grant told us, "I have more good news to share with the two of you. My biggest client is planning a visit to Chicago to meet with us and discuss the profit potential of the new clothing line. He's interested in hearing our opinions about marketability, timing and the like." "Why ask us our opinions, Grant?" I asked. "He should seek the opinions of a reliable marketing research firm, like the advertising company I worked for during the summers while I was in high school -- as a gopher, of course." Grant turned to me. "You never told me you worked for an ad firm." "It never came up before. I was only a gopher." His answer was, "I thought you knew the lingo too well to be a neophyte." Not wanting Grant to misunderstand and think I was familiar with that end of the business, I said, "I really don't know beans about marketing products on a grand scale, other what little I gleaned from a few marketing classes in college, and that was only rudimentary stuff, certainly not of any value to your client's introducing an entirely new line of clothing." Betty added, "You probably know more than the two of us put together, but you're shy about it, understandably, so you're reluctant to share your insight with us. But, that's okay! I think the client is more interested in your pretty face, and your other feminine attributes, not picking your brain, sweetie! So, don't worry about it! What does it matter why he wants to meet with us?" Grant looked at us and said, "Enough shop talk! I'm hungry! What are we ordering in for dinner, tonight? Let's make a team decision!" he razzed. We mutually agreed on a pizza and then Grant ran out to a local liquor store for a case of beer for Betty and him, and diet soda for me. Once the delivery man arrived with the pizza, we discussed the prospect of his client's visit while we devoured it, washing the pizza down with beer and soda. I tried to detract our casual conversation away from the subject of marketing, but the two of them wouldn't let me. They thought I knew more about it than them, Eventually, we all got tired and went to our respective bedrooms, our newly rearranged bedrooms, with Betty and Grant sharing one, and my being alone in my room. I got undressed, put on fresh panties and a nightgown and went into the bathroom between the two bedrooms to wash off all my makeup and prepare to retire for the night. I could hear the two of them going at in in the other bedroom; the one Grant that called the 'master' bedroom. They were making a lot of noise in there, so Grant's claims about not being able to get it up were probably unfounded, or Betty was more receptively responsive to him than she let on. I was happy for them. Both of them were nice people. Once in the solitude of my own bedroom, I resorted to manipulation for my own sexual satisfaction, but not until I played with the growing mounds on my chest until I was sporting a respectable erection. I could have continued to play with my increasingly responsive orbs until I ejaculated, but I wanted to examine my discharge to see if it was still opaque. It was. 2. At breakfast in the morning, Grant advised me of the upcoming schedule. I'd model for him three days a week until all the photography for the fall flyer was complete. Betty would do some modelling for Grant, too for the styles that suited more mature individuals Grant wanted available to show to the visiting owner of the clothing company to consider for the new line. He took a lot of pictures of us, more than I thought necessary, but afterwards, in the evenings, we sat down across the dinner table and reviewed each photograph, approving and rejecting each of them based on how we felt the owner would react. I had a few weeks off from modelling to concentrate on my studies and see what the various theatrical companies in the area were producing. Some of my fellow classmates studying drama spoke of a few companies that were willing to hire students to act as understudies, so they could avoid paying the professionals who belong to the actors' guild the guild's minimum rates, knowing we'd be anxious to have a chance to get on a stage and apply our skills without any concern over the rate of pay we'd be offered. Unfortunately, the only job I was offered by a production company was for a stunt double for a leading lady. Knowing my inherent clumsiness, I politely declined. The assistant producer who had offered me the stunt double's job told me I could stick around to observe the rehearsals if I cared to, so I did. Standing in the wings during those rehearsals I could manage to fit into my class and work schedule, with the play's script in hand, I learned as many lines of the roles of the females in the play that I could. Some of the extras didn't have many, or any lines, so if they needed a replacement on the spur of the moment, I'd fill in for the absent cast member. Of course, I couldn't fill in for the leading lady. She and a few other female members were popular actresses around the theatrical community and they had too many lines. An impromptu substitution would be unlikely because they had understudies waiting in the wings hoping and praying for a chance to replace the important cast members. I did get some college credits for my participation and good grades, at that, so the exercise was worthwhile. More important, I got four tickets to attend the grand premiere for my being consistently on hand at a lot of the rehearsals. The three of us: Grant, Betty, and I got decked out for the occasion and were about to leave for the theatre when Grant got a phone call to pick up his client at the airport. His big client wasn't supposed to arrive until the following week! Grant asked Betty and me to go to the theatre without him, and he'd catch up with us as soon as he could. If time permitted, he'd offer to bring the client to the theatre with him, as we had an extra ticket we weren't planning to use. While Grant was on the phone, Betty was reviewing the playbill I'd brought home with me. She was trying to bring something in it to my attention when Grant advised us of his need to go to the airport. After he left, she pointed to the playbill and said, "Your name's in here as one of the understudies, Mel!" I grabbed the playbill way from her to look for myself, thinking that she was only playing a trick on me. I wasn't aware that I was going to be included in the credits in any way. I was surprised as she was. She said, "It's a gala event! We're dressed to thrill! Why not hire a limo and join the festivities. If anyone asks, we'll show them the playbill, that you're listed as one of the understudies. The security personnel screening arrivals won't care if it's a fluke. They'll just fit us in at the end of the line with the other extras. If Grant can make it to the opening in time, before all of the big wigs make their grand entrances, he and his important client can join us in the limo waiting in line and the two men can escort us into the theatre. Oh, please, Mel. Let's do it! I never attended a red carpet premiere before!" "Neither have I, Betty!" I said. "What do we do if the security guards turn us away?" "We have these two tickets, darling!" She held up the two remaining tickets Grant had left with us. "We'll enter the theatre with the paying customers." Her idea seemed plausible. If we were turned away, we could enter with the rest of the masses attending the performance. The only hitch was Grant and his client finding us in a long line of limos before the line was marshalled at the theatre. First we hired a limo. Hurdle number one was resolved. Then, Betty got a hold of Grant at the airport. He had his client in tow, and was on his way to the theatre by cab. He said he'd meet us there in plenty of time. We told them where we'd be waiting for them to arrive by cab, a few blocks away from the theatre. The limo driver said he didn't mind waiting, as long as we'd remember his making an accommodation. I guess money talks! Grant's client was ecstatic to learn he'd be attending a grand premiere of a new play. Even if it wasn't on Broadway, it was an unexpected surprise for him. Grant had told his client attending the play was his idea. Naturally, I didn't argue the point. The man was going to be paying the rent soon, if we convinced him to employ Grant to photograph the project he had in mind. The line of limos at the entrance to the theatre was dwindling by the time we got to the theatre, but the security people let us join the parade, once our limo driver indicated to them one of the occupants of the limo is a member of the cast. They waved him on, without confirming who was in the car. When we arrived at the entrance, many bystanders were already proceeding into the theatre, but photographers and paparazzi were still standing by the red carpet snapping pictures like crazy. Our visiting guest and Grant were both wearing black suits, so they looked impressive, as the guest escorted me, and Grant escorted Betty into the theatre to a barrage of flashbulbs. We enjoyed watching the play, but noticed not many people were laughing at the punch lines, or applauding at the finale. No second bows! We left the theatre in a somber mood. Even Grant knew the play didn't live up to expectations. We went out for cocktails afterwards and discussed the proposed new line of clothing a little before we dropped off Grant's client at a five star hotel next O'Hare airport, where the man had a reservation. The morning papers reported the play was so- so according to the critics who stayed to the end. Some of the critics didn't wait for the final curtain to fall. After all the hard work so many people put into producing the play, it was a disappointment, even for me. Grant regretfully left Betty and me to mull over the critics' reviews. He had to pick up our distinguished visitor to bring him to the studio. Once there, we'd discuss the new line of clothing in detail. I still didn't understand why the man put so much faith in our opinions. None of us were qualified as marketing experts. I was the only one who ever worked in advertising --- as a gopher during two summer breaks, one while I was still in high school and the second one right after I graduated. 3. Grant returned accompanied by his client about an hour or so later. The man was excited; utterly exuberant! "Did either of you two girls see the article and color photograph on page six of the Parade weekly supplement about the four of us. The article's writer wants to know why the four of us were out together at last night's premiere! "What luck, it's terrific! If he pursues us for an exclusive story, we have to be prepared with full background stories on both of you lovely ladies, why we attended the show's opening last night, with a promo bit about the new clothing line my firm is introducing thrown in to fire his interest further. If he likes the material we give him, he may run a feature story. It'll be a great way to publicly kick off the new line in time for the spring fashion shows." "Let me set up my cameras and take some close ups of Mel to provide to the guy from the paper. I can see it now: Novice Chicago area drama student is chosen to model for exclusive new clothing line!" "Great idea, but we need some examples of the type of clothes we're going to introduce and I haven't brought any with me this trip. I came here only to discuss the new line with you and set up the details of the contract with you, Grant. I wasn't planning to introduce the line just yet." Grant responded "That writer's taking interest is pure good fortune. We'd best not let the opportunity slip away. You ought to strike while the iron is hot Mr. Wilson." Mr. Wilson thought for a moment, and then replied to Grant's suggestion. "The clothes will all have to be custom fitted. Men's contours aren't the same as women's, and it would take too long to arrange a trip to New York for Mel. It may take some quick action on our part, but I suppose I can fly back to New York and return with examples of the new line for Mel to wear, and have them altered here, but it would be faster and easier if my daughter flies out here with what we have in stock right now and she can alter them here at your studio to fit Mel well enough to do a shoot. It's her new line we are introducing. She might as well pitch in and get the ball rolling. She can bring her staff with her later on to help her, if she deems it's necessary." "Why not have the goods shipped here by air freight, instead?" "Grant. Can you imagine what might happen if we ship garments out here and the airfreight handlers misplace them? We can't take that chance!" "I suppose not, but I don't have sufficient space here in the studio to set up a workshop for your daughter and a production staff. I have barely enough living space now for the three of us. Otherwise, I'd have offered to put you up in my spare bedroom. " "Let me get on the phone. I came out here early because I was on my way back from closing a deal with a fabric manufacturer. I still have the original flight reservation I made to come here. It's made out in the company's name, so my daughter can use that ticket and can be here within hours from now." He called up his daughter and talked with her for a long time, making plans for her arrival. Then, he called the hotel and tried to reserve another room for her, but the hotel's front desk advised him they were fully booked and couldn't possibly provide a room for her on such short notice, but said they would call back if they received a last minute cancellation. He asked the desk clerk if his daughter could stay in his suite with him. They told him she could, as long as his suite had two separate sleeping areas. "She's my daughter, man! If she slept in the same bed as I, no impropriety would occur. What kind of man do you take me for?" The clerk told him "Regretfully sir, we're unable to establish the identity of you and your daughter over the telephone. We'll gladly make arrangements as requested, if you and your daughter wish to sleep in the same bed, if you can verify that she is a family member of yours, sir. We understand children do not sleep well in unfamiliar surroundings and they sleep more soundly if a parent is present." "Good lord." He let the handset rest in his hands for a second. "This idiot of a desk clerk thinks I want to sleep with my own adult daughter. What is this world coming to?" Into the phone, he asked the clerk to add his daughter to the room reservation, and to arrange for a rollaway, unless the divan in the ante-room converts to a bed for the might. He was told it did, so he thanked the clerk for his help and hung up. "Well, that's taken care of. My daughter will stay with me in my suite at the hotel next to O'Hare. If that clown at the hotel's front desk gave me any more flack, I would have cancelled and moved to another hotel. The idiot probably thinks I picked up a floozy to have sex with at the hotel tonight." Grant told him "You'd better not cancel, there's a lot of activity around town this week. Not many hotel rooms are available. Your suite was hard to come by and hotels near the airport are usually crowded this time of year." Grant's guest was thankful the matter was resolved and began to discuss the upcoming new clothing line. "Of course, I will defer to my daughter's taste when it comes to the styles she wants to feature. She's been instrumental in expanding our market share for women's line, and I know she'll be equally successful in this new facet of the business. She's a bit headstrong, so unless you can demonstrate you're positive about a position, please agree with her. She likes to take charge and doesn't take criticism kindly." Roughly four hours later, our guest: Mr. Wilson received a cell phone call from his daughter. The plane from New York had landed, and she was on her way to the luggage carousel to retrieve five suitcases. She said she'd need a mid-sized van to carry everything, so it wouldn't be necessary for him to pick her up at the airport in a normal cab. I thought it unusual that a young woman would decline assistance from a man to haul that many pieces of luggage, plus her purse and carry- on from the airport's carousel to the cabstand, but then realized she probably engaged the services of a porter at the airport. Mr. Wilson had Grant repeat the exact address of his studio to her over the phone to assure she'd have no trouble finding it. Fifteen minutes later, she called again requesting the address, because she didn't write it down, and knew it would be better if Grant gave it to the mini-van's driver directly. Grant did as she asked and repeated the address over the phone to some foreigner with a thick accent. Mr. Wilson got on the phone and asked her if she'd prefer to take her luggage to the hotel, instead. She told him she was traveling light and would pick up what she might need locally. Three pieces of her luggage contained clothing samples she felt would be a good start, a portable sewing machine and, a mini-serger in the fourth. The fifth held quarter-pound spools of thread in most colors and the notions to go with it. She arrived a half an hour later wearing grey flannel work pants and a plaid flannel shirt, and no makeup. She didn't waste any time with introductions and told her dad to go out to the cab before someone ran off with some of its contents. She was carrying one of the heaviest looking, large suitcases, while the foreign cab driver was struggling with one of the smaller, lighter ones. She was tall, probably close to six feet in height, with broad shoulders and a big bosom. If it wasn't for her big bosom, she'd resemble a truck driver or one of the maintenance men I remembered from one of the dormitories back at the university. She spotted me and smiled, "My, my, my! Who are you, dumplin'," as if she didn't know. She dropped the heavy suitcase with a thud, and took my hand into hers to shake it. "You must be Miss Melissa, sweetie!" I shook her big hand and nodded in reply. Her coarse hand dwarfed mine, as if hers were a man's and mine was -well, a woman's. After all, I was almost six inches shorter than her, and I was wearing heels. She was in loafers. "Yes," I replied, "but everyone just calls me Mel." Before I could blurt out another word, she took me into her arms and kissed me. She kissed me hard! I melted to pieces, of course, and let her. I never met a woman who was so forward and direct. I was getting a hard on, from being kissed by a woman, and I couldn't do anything to prevent it! "You are one gorgeous piece of fluff, Mel. I'm going to enjoy working with you. You're my kind of guy. Where have you been hiding all my life?" She was using corny lines a guy uses on a girl when he wants a girl to feel flattered and disarmed. Needless to say, it was working. All I could do was to stammer and stutter. I blushed, too, because she was looking right at my budding chest. "Are those real?" she asked. I nodded affirmatively. "I - I accidentally took my mom's unused hormone replacement pills instead of my generic diabetes meds. By the time I decided to see my doctor to find out why I was swelling in the wrong area, I was on them too long, and it was too late to do anything about it, according to him." "You're a diabetic, huh? How long was too long?" she asked. "Over four months," I replied. "Did you stop taking them?" she asked. "My family doctor didn't believe me when I told him it was a mistake. He all but threw me out of his office. Betty: Grant's girlfriend referred me to her endocrinologist who adjusted the dosage. I'm on a maintenance dose now, enough to retain what mammary growth I have, but not enough to inhibit my ability to perform --- as a --- male. You know that I'm a guy, don't you." "You sure could have fooled me, sweetheart, but if you say so, I'll take your word for it. You are my kind of guy, you know. I like a man who isn't out to prove he's bigger and stronger than I am. I'm really going to enjoy working with you, especially the dressing and undressing part. You must realize I'm going to have to fit the clothes you'll be modelling to your luscious body." "I've been wearing corsets and flesh colored body suits so far to adjust my contours. They give me all the right curves." "The clothing line that we're introducing will have to fit onto a regular guy's body, uh, except for the breasts. Silicone breast forms inserted inside of the corsets or bras will simulate feminine looking breasts. Of course, you won't need to use padding to fill out your bras. I'd like to get a better idea of what I'll be working with, if you don't mind." Her father interjected, "It's getting late, Brandy. Let's you and I return to the hotel and let the three of them get a good night's sleep, so they'll be raring to go in the morning." He pointed to Betty, Grant and me when he said it, as if she needed to be told who he was referring to. "Grant can go with the cabbie to watch over the other luggage that stays behind. Once the cabbie brings in all that's coming in here, we can take the cab back to my hotel along with your personal luggage." In effect, he was telling his daughter he intended to stay with Betty and me in the studio until the van was unloaded. "Oh, hell, Dad, that cabbie will take all night to finish lugging that stuff in. I'll go and bring in the rest of it myself. I've been cooped up in that plane for the past four hours and I need the exercise. I have to burn off the high-carb snacks the stewardesses passed around on the flight. He didn't answer her. I let out a deep breath in relief. I was unsure if I cared to be all alone with Mr. Wilson's daughter in the studio, if he and Grant helped the cabbie, and she had Betty attend to setting up some of what the suitcases contained. She was big and powerful looking, and built like a football linebacker. After all of the luggage was accounted for by Mr. Wilson's daughter, she and her dad left with the cabbie to return to the hotel. Betty accompanied me to my room, and the two of us helped each other remove our dresses, wash our hair and prepare for the night. Betty assured me she and Grant would protect me from the new arrival, if need be. Reminiscing about her fervent, impromptu kiss, I idly thought I might not want their protection. "Oh, Betty, she is so romantic!" "Romantic, she acts like a bull in a china shop, Mel. If her dad didn't stop her, she'd have had your blouse and bra off, to check out your bosom. Do you really want a take-charge woman like that to be fooling around with your emotions? She'll use you, abuse you and dump you without giving it a second thought." "I think she's beautiful!" "She's a dedicated power broker! Remember. All she cares about is making money. You can see it in her eyes. She looked at you like you were a prime piece of filet mignon, and she was preparing for dinner. I'd steer clear of her if I were you, girl!" "Did you see? She kissed me! She kissed me real hard, and I melted in her arms, and I got a woodie at the same time. I haven't had a woodie for quite some time now; months even, except when I intentionally want to, and play with my nipples. Playing with my nipples takes a while, but her kiss gave me the woodie instantaneously, Betty." "Looks like you got it bad for her, kiddo. You'd better watch your step or she's going to break your heart into tiny pieces. If you like her that much, play her out, but don't let her get under your skin, I mean don't let her take control of your emotions. If you do, she'll wrap you around her little finger and play you like a fiddle, getting you to do whatever she wants. Women by nature are controlling beasts, and this one is a control freak to begin with!" "You don't know that. You're just saying that because she's my ideal woman, and you haven't made up your mind yet about Grant. I'll bet if Grant puts a ring on your finger, you'll be singing a different tune." "Grant is Grant. I have to give him time to get used to having me around again. Back a few years ago, Grant and I had a wild fling for a while, but it fizzled out and we mutually decided it wasn't meant to be. I wasn't satisfied with him back then more than him not being satisfied with me. Since then, I haven't had any better offers, so I'm reconsidering my options. It's time for me to start seriously thinking about settling down, once and for all. I'm not getting any younger." I looked over at Betty. She was sniffling, not hard, just shedding a few tears. I went to her and put my arms around her, to console her." You'll be a great catch for Grant. He needs someone like you, Betty, and you need someone like him, a good provider and a reliable man; one who won't cheat on you the moment you're otherwise preoccupied. Don't let him wander any. Keep a tight leash on Grant, and he'll remain loyal. Listen to me, will you? I'm a kid still in college and I'm giving a mature woman advice for the lovelorn." "Your heart is in the right place, Mel. That's more important, not how many years you have under your belt. I'll heed your advice if you'll heed mine and be leery of Miss Wilson. She may be a go getter, but you'd be better off as the main squeeze of a nerdy female accountant with a fat bank account." "Maybe you're right, Betty. If I'm not mistaken, I hear noise coming from the other bedroom. I think Grant wants you to come to bed with him. Give him a kiss for me and a few nuzzles to boot." "I'll give him more than that, unless he's not up to it. I think I resurrected a sex fiend, sometimes. Other times, he doesn't seem very interested in sex." "Grant told me he's chemically castrated when I first came to work for him, Betty. Give the guy a chance, for Pete's sake. Don't you be over bearing?" "Don't worry, I'll try not to, but I need his loving more than he needs mine, so I have to take that into consideration and act accordingly. You need the love of a good, positive thinking, woman, - -- or a man, someday, but you have a lot of time to think about what you want. You don't have to settle down with the first person to come along. Try before you buy, Mel!" 4. Morning rolled around much too soon to suit me. I was still rubbing sleep from my eyes when I heard Mr. Wilson and his lovely daughter return. Betty was up, making coffee and Grant, like me was still in his room. We saw no reason to get out of bed before the sun came up. I looked toward my shaded window without getting out of bed and confirmed that it was still so early in the morning. The sun had yet to rise! It didn't matter to Miss Wilson. She came right into my room and sat down with a thump on my bed, shaking my leg to rouse me from my sleep. With a half open eye, I looked at her with disdain. It didn't faze her. She held up a short dress and said she wanted to help me put it on. I easily surmised it was only a ruse, an excuse for her to see me dressed for bed in my sexy baby doll nightgown without my wearing an unrevealing bra. I sat up and let her have her cheap thrill. I wanted her to see my breasts. She would see them soon enough if she was going to fit my clothes to my curves. She claimed the clothes would be cut to fit an average male body, but I was no average male, so why was she so intent on fitting clothes onto me?" I could hear her father in the kitchen talking to Betty, telling her how nice it was of her to fix breakfast for him and his daughter. It didn't make sense. If his daughter was about to have breakfast with her father, why was she in my room siting on my bed with me still in it, and why did she close the door to the kitchen? She took my hands into hers and placed them on her breasts. "I want you to touch mine, so you'll be less likely to complain when I touch yours. I always wanted to know how a man's breasts would feel, if by some miracle, he had a pair of his own. You're my miracle man, Mel." I didn't back away, but I didn't try to fondle her breasts. I could feel her pert nipples under her plaid flannel shirt. SHE WASN'T WEARING A BRA! It felt nice to feel her nipples getting harder from my hands covering them. As I sheepishly massaged her taut nipples, she touched mine. Her touch caused me to pant heavily. She in turn, kissed one of my breasts and slid her hand to my groin and groped my hardening cock. Her fingertip lightly raced over the head of my cock as her tongue raced over my nipple. I think I may have passed out from the thrill of having the head of my cock touched by a woman. It had never happened to me before. As I slowly came to my senses, she was lying beside me on the bed kissing me, with tongue. At the same time, she was caressing my groin with one hand and one of my nipples with the other. It took all of my resolve to muster the courage to speak. "Please stop what you're doing, Miss Wilson. I'm not accustomed to being treated like this by anyone, and I want to come up for air. No one's ever accosted me before. We just met. Maybe once we get to know one another a lot better, I won't mind being intimate with you so much." "You mind our being intimate? Are you still a virgin. Mel?" "Yes, and if you don't mind, ---" "Oh, you are a prize! I didn't know." She got off the bed and apologized. "Look, I'm very sorry I was so forward. I assumed that you had previous experience. Are you saving yourself for marriage, Mel?" I thought about it. If I give in to her now and she is disappointed with my performance, it may end my chance to have a lasting relationship with her. "Yes, I suppose you can say that, but doesn't mean I'm opposed to kissing and some innocent petting, if we're both wearing street clothes. You have me at an unfair disadvantage. You're fully dressed and I'm still in a short nightgown that is diaphanous, hardly visible. It may be comfortable to sleep in, but your touching and kissing has me over excited. I think we both need to slow down and reassess why we're here. We have work to do. I can't let you grope me on set. How would it look to your dad and my two associates? "They can't see us in here with the door closed!" "I know, but they all have a good idea what is going on in here. I listen to Betty and Grant getting it on in the other bedroom. I don't have to see them to know that they are engaging in gratuitous sex. How does your father feel about your aggressive behavior? Does he know you are sexually active?" "He does. He's been trying to marry me off ever since I got out of college." "He has? If that's so, why aren't you married yet? "It takes the right kind of man, and so far, the men I've dated don't fit the bill. I think I may have finally found the right person, Mel. It's you, but there's only one way I know of to be absolutely sure." She was advancing on me again, so I held her a bay as best I could. "If it's really true love, it'll keep until we finish creating the proofs for the new line of clothes you're introducing, Miss Wilson." "We've been properly introduced, so please call me Brandy." "Actually, we haven't been properly introduced. You came in last night with a bunch of luggage unannounced and introduced yourself to me without any help from anyone else." "That is so lame. Being formally introduced to a girl went out with poodle skirts and bobby socks, and if it was still in vogue, I should be introduced to you and not the other way around." We weren't hitting it off very well. Everything she said to me seemed either offensive or inappropriate. I asked her to leave the short new dress with me; that I'd put it on without her help, after I had my morning shower. If she'd have offered to help me shower, I think I would have blown my stack then and there. She was just too pushy! Fortunately, Brandy knew I wasn't very happy with her aggressiveness, so she backed off and left me, saying she was going to have breakfast with her dad. At that moment, I could have cared less if she choked on her bacon. After I showered and got dressed in the too short dress she provided, I went to the kitchen to join the party. Brandy wasn't with her dad but Grant and Betty were. I had some cold scrambled eggs and Betty made me some rye toast with berry jelly. Grant was looking at me funny, so I raised an eyebrow to ask him what was on his mind. He surreptitiously shook his head side to side and took me to the studio where we could be alone. "What did you say to Brandy Wilson? She left in a huff without saying a word. That dress is too short on you. The hem has to be let out and the shoulders lay wrong. Her father thinks you're not cooperating with her for some reason." I tried to explain to Grant that she came on to me hot and heavy while I was still half asleep, and I wasn't prepared to resist her, so she forced herself on me. "She even groped my groin, and kissed my nipples; after she placed my hands on her boobs so I could feel her big nipples. She's too much for me, Grant! I'm not used to being accosted, and groped openly by anyone. Maybe this shoot isn't going to work out and you need to find someone else." "Hey, money is money. You'd better swallow your precious pride for the benefit of our new formed family. Betty and I are depending on you, Mel. You agreed to do the shoot. Didn't you? Female models are accustomed to being groped and fondled by prospective buyers. It's a part of the game, so you'd better get used to it! It's no big thing!" "Well, I don't want to play games with Brandy, Grant. She plays too rough." "Her dad has agreed to talk to her about her approaching you for intimacy so soon after meeting you, although he thinks you're being somewhat childish about clinging to your precious chastity. He's seen your body laid out on a beach blanket ready for a man to seduce you and doesn't believe you are still innocent and untried. So what if his overbearing, headstrong daughter wants to play house with you! A little slap and tickle fun isn't going to spoil your plans for the future. Guys don't mind fooling around before settling down. "Girls mind because they don't want to get pregnant while still unmarried because already having a child by another man makes convincing a man to pop the question more difficult, but since the introduction of the pill, even women can dabble in casual sex before marriage without fearing unwanted pregnancy." "I certainly don't have to fear getting pregnant, but if I freely engage in sex with that woman, and she gets pregnant, I'll be facing a paternity suit sure as rain. She'll trap me into marrying her, Grant!" "You could do far worse, you know. She's a take charge woman, the kind of woman you told me you wanted for a wife. Why not try playing along with the woman for the duration of this shoot, at least, so I don't lose my shirt in the process? If her father gets pissed enough, he may pull the plug. Have you given that any thought? We can all lose out if you keep giving her the brush off. Why don't you give in a little, Mel? I'm not going to say another word, but if you blow this deal for us, you might as well pack your bags." "You'd throw me out, Grant, just like that, over a client?" "I wouldn't want to do it, Mel, but I can't support myself, let alone you and Betty if I don't have any income coming in. Maybe I was too complacent, and I should have tried to secure more accounts so I wouldn't be dependent on this one, but Wilson has been very nice to me over the past few years, so I haven't pushed for any new business very hard. I didn't have to." "I suppose I took your diversity for granted. I didn't realize Mr. Wilson's account was so important, Grant. Go tell Mr. Wilson I'll try be nice to his daughter if she'll try to be nicer towards me from now on. This dress she gave me this morning is way too short. I think she knew it, too, and wants to use it to get into my panties. "You may recall that I mistook the first time you kissed me, as well. I may be overreacting with Miss Brandy Wilson. She's probably used to getting her way: a daddy's little girl spoiled brat. I'll do whatever is necessary to make amends, Grant. You can count on me. I would have never believed I'd have to use intimacy as a principal means of keeping a job." "That a girl!" Grant was again ignoring the fact that I was a male, even if I appeared totally feminine with clothes on because I mistakenly took my mom's HRT meds instead of prescription diabetes meds. I could hardly blame him for forgetting, with my emerging breasts getting almost as big as a real girl's. Wearing a bra was becoming essential, or I'd get pains in my underarms, a common problem for girls with ample bosoms, according to my doctor. Betty came to me in the afternoon and told me Mr. Wilson had a long talk with his daughter. She wanted to return to New York and seek a different photographer there, meaning Grant' would lose the account. She listened to what her father had to say, and conceded, saying she didn't believe I was a virgin, because of my being so pretty. I guess it was a compliment, though I doubted she meant it as one. She did impose one condition before she'd continue to work with me. Her father told her she could demand anything she pleased, but he didn't have the right to answer her on my behalf. She insisted if I was sincere about being a virgin, I ought to be willing to wear a chastity device to insure I remained one. Betty shrugged and said: Let the bitch have her fun, Mel!" I didn't know if Betty meant I should give in to Miss Wilson sexually, or if I should allow her to put a chastity device on me. Betty clarified what Miss Wilson wanted, "She wants to deprive you of having sex with anyone until you conceded and tell her she can have you." I told Betty I would prefer the chastity device, because I knew once I gave in to Miss Wilson sexually, I'd be expected to continue to please her from then on for the full duration of the development of the new line of clothing being introduced. Later, Betty told me Miss Wilson became upset when she learned I preferred to refer to her by her last name. She wanted me to call her by her first name, to show that I was being more cordial and friendly toward her. She insisted on attending my being put into chastity personally to be sure it was done properly, and in accordance with her specifications. I assumed that I was to wear some sort of locked device. Instead, I was taken to a clinic, where I was required to sign paperwork indicating I wanted to be put into chastity voluntarily. After I signed all the paperwork, I was put onto a gurney, and they took me into an operating room. I was transferred onto a short, angled bed of sorts, and my legs were strapped into stirrups, and my arms and waist were held down firmly in leather restraints so I was totally immobile. I fought being restrained as best I could, but it was too late. There were too many of them and only one of me. I could move my head enough to see what was going on, but I'd have rather not been able to see. I had assumed my manhood and testicles were going to be put into a cage of sorts. Instead, my listless penis and scrotum were injected with a pain killer, my penis pierced and a ring inserted. Another ring was inserted through my skin at the base of my scrotum. Then, the two rings were connected together by a third ring, all of which were soldered closed. I looked on in disbelief as my cock was tethered down so I would have to sit on a toilet to urinate. Finally, my testicles were forced up into my body cavity, which was very painful in spite of the numbness from pain killer injection I had received. As I continued to writhe in agony, the flesh of my scrotum was stitched together over my penis to hide it from view. I let my head fall back against the short bed, not wanting to watch what was being done. As I opened my eyes, I saw a mirror above me and watched in horror at the entire gory procedure. To a casual observer, I appeared to have a vagina instead of a male three piece set. The stitches put into my scrotum were recessed, so I appeared to have thick vaginal lips protruding over a miniscule lump. If covered by a pair of panties, I would only show a distinct camel toe! I must have passed out upon seeing what horror had been inflicted upon me, or I may have succumbed to an intravenously introduced sedative, because I slowly lost consciousness. In recovery, Miss Wilson came to me and kissed me. I was too weak to resist. She removed a headset from my head and told me I'd been listening to some relaxing music during my recuperation. "Everyone is eager to have you back at work. I arranged to rent a storefront directly across the street from Grant's studio, so your friends will continue to photograph samples of the clothing line I'm introducing. Betty is currently modelling the styles for more mature ladies like you two, so your income flow is continuing. It will continue as long s you are cooperating. I'm sure you are relieved to hear that. "Daddy had to head back to the New York office to run things back there, but I'm going to stay on here in Chicago for a while to see to your complete recovery, and your participation in the photographing of styles for younger boy/girls. "You had some freeze therapy to your love handles while you were out of it. In time, your body will dissolve the dead fat cells and carry them off, so you will have perfect thirty-six, twenty-two thirty-six contours to show off my most daring creations. You won't even need to wear a body suit or a heavily boned corset under them to demonstrate true feminine loveliness. "Oh, I meant to say: thank you for allowing me to have you chastised in the manner I prefer. Now, you won't have to worry about losing your precious virginity, because it's safely preserved. Think of it! You'll be able to wear the skimpiest bikinis without fear of your true birth gender being exposed. "Everyone who ogles over your sexy looking body in the catalogue wearing a slinky negligee, bikinis or sexy maids' uniforms will naturally assume you're the sexy young female model, which you appear to be. There's no need for you to be concerned with your true gender being detected anymore. Your naked crotch looks absolutely feminine to the naked eye. Tee hee. "Another thing: your future is secure. You don't have to attend college any more. I'm training you to become my personal lady's maid. Once your Prince Albert heals completely, I'll diddle your cockhead for you as if it's a clitoris to help you get off. I'll be happy to do it. I always wanted a boy/toy to entertain. I'm going to add a luxury apartment for us at rear of the new branch office I'm setting up here in Chicago, away from Daddy's influence. You'll be thoroughly trained and drained by the time you leave this clinic to return to work for Grant as my principal sexy lingerie model. You'll look absolutely darling in the abbreviated maid's outfits I've designed. "Being my personal maid will keep you busy when you're not modelling for Grant. He likes to see you in skimpy outfits, you know. Most men like to see gorgeous babes like you, with your haunting lips, your alluring tits and your moist cleft. We'll charge for the catalogs we produce from now on, seeing as how it'll contain some excellent wank material. We'll do them seasonally to keep Grant busy. You don't want to deprive Grant and Betty of their steady income flow. Do you?" Fin.