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More Lingerie for More Lodgers This is a sequel to "Lingerie for Lodgers" so you may wish to read that first but it's not totally necessary. I didn't really think to write a sequel but I decided that Ms Bryson should have a more upbeat ending. Please slip into something silky and enjoy. - S My Aunt Margaret drove me to my new lodgings on a Friday, a couple of days before the start of my first college term. She'd raised me efficiently and with care, if not lovingly, for the past five years since my parents had died in a car crash but we'd never been particularly close. As a result, I was quite excited about starting a new chapter in my life. I'd not really settled in that well at school, making few friends, and only been a slightly better than average student. I viewed college as an opportunity to make a new start, live independently and grow as a man, planning to graduate in chemistry and go on to a career in science. We walked up to the door, rang the bell and were promptly greeted by the landlady, Ms Bryson. She made an instant impression on me, I'd have to say that she was stunning. I placed her at about 30 years old, a little taller than me in her heels as I was slim built and quite short for a boy. Her intense, deep brown eyes stared out of an extremely attractive face, long brown hair in waves down to her shoulders. She was wearing a simple black sweatshirt and jeans but, even in that plain outfit, I could tell that she had an extremely sexy, curvy feminine figure. "Hello, you must be Stuart, I've been expecting you," she greeted us in a musical, soft voice, breaking out into a dazzling smile. Like an idiot, I took her hand and shook it as if in a business meeting and replied, "Yes, I'm Stuart. Stuart Cameron. Pleased to meet you Ms Bryson." She invited us in and we took my cases and bags to my room. The room was large and comfortable, if a little spartanly furnished and plainly decorated. Ms Bryson took pains to point out the laundry basket in the corner of the room, telling us that she would do all the laundry. I found that a little strange as I'd expected to be doing my own but I didn't complain. After saying goodbye to Aunt Margaret, I was shown round the rest of the house and introduced to the other two lodgers in the sitting room. The first was Jack, a black guy who was even smaller and slighter than I was and was studying history. The other, Richard, was a bit taller with long hair tied back in a hipster man-bun. They both greeted me politely but seemed slightly sullen, almost somewhat resentful of my presence. I didn't stick around and retired to my room to take a shower in the en-suite bathroom after the long car journey and to unpack my things. I spent the rest of the weekend exploring the town on my own and getting my bearings around the nearby college campus. Ms Bryson was extremely helpful and attentive but I didn't take that as anything other than wanting to help a new student settle in. Richard and Jack kept themselves to themselves, although were always polite and helpful if I asked them anything directly as they were both in their second year and were able to give me some useful pointers. Monday came and the first day of college term held mainly registrations and inductions. I made an effort to fit in and get to know a couple of the people on my course, even pushing myself to chat to some of the girls. I'd never had any success with girls at school but I felt a bit more optimistic at my chances in college, especially after with some interesting conversations with a couple of my prettier classmates. I returned to Ms Bryson's at the end of the day tired but quite happy and, after dinner where we all discussed our day, I went up to my room to get an early night. Shutting the door, I noticed a new pile of folded clothes and towels on the corner of the bed. Ms Bryson had obviously delivered on her commitment to do the laundry, although I'd only really put a couple of pairs of socks and boxer shorts in the basket over the past few days. I picked up the pairs of clean white boxer shorts from the top of the pile to put them away and that's when I saw the panties. Sitting on top of the folded towels was a pair of royal-blue satin panties, trimmed with matching lace and with a small bow at the front of the waistband. I realised Ms Bryson must have mixed them up with my washing by accident and that I should really just return them to her. However, I stood for what felt like many minutes transfixed by the flimsy, feminine garment lying there on top of the pile of white towels. Outside of my Aunt's mail order catalogue, I'd never seen such a sexy, intimate item of clothing. I put down my plain cotton shorts and reached out to touch them, still telling myself I was just going to pick them up and return them. Almost involuntarily, my fingertips caressed the smooth, shiny material and explored the soft, delicate lace trim. Within seconds, the thought formed in my mind, "What would it feel like to wear these?" and I was lost. Still moving like a man possessed, my gaze fixed on the blue panties, I quickly stripped naked. I picked them up and held them out in front of me ready to step into them. There was a moment of hesitation, I think, as the male part of my psyche tried to put up some resistance to what I was about to do but I found myself putting first one foot, then the other, through the leg holes. Drawing the insubstantial garment up my calves and thighs, I delighted in the teasing, tickling sensation as the lace trim brushed my skin. I pulled the waistband up and over my hips, encasing my butt and most sensitive areas in the soft, seductive satin, marvelling at how the thin material encased me and held me in a way that was impossible to ignore. I regarded myself in the full length mirror, with my blonde hair, slim figure and nearly hairless skin I looked the image of a young teenage girl - except for the large bulge in the front of the panties from my throbbing erection. My breath came in short gasps as I turned and watched my reflection move, fascinated by the shimmer of light on the silky cloth as I ran my hands over my buttocks and crotch, relishing the sensation. I sat down on the bed, wrapping a hand round my stiff cock and encasing it in the dark blue satin. I'd never felt so hard and I was already dribbling pre-cum, staining a darker patch at the front of the panties. It only took a few tentative strokes before my cock stiffened and pulsed, pumping hot fluid into the panties as I experienced the longest, most intense orgasm I'd ever had. As I came, I squealed, "Oooooo, yes," in a high pitched voice I didn't know I possessed. It took me a minute to come down as I sat breathing heavily on the edge of the bed. When I did, I felt a flush of shame at what I'd just done - what sort of man dresses in women's intimate clothing for sexual pleasure? My shame burned deeper as I started to remove the panties and a string of sticky cum kept my cock connected to them till they were past my knees. Dropping them to the floor, I kicked them under the edge of the bed as I realised I would have to rinse them out and somehow sneak them back into the laundry. Picking up my discarded clothes, I dressed myself, unable to look at my reflecton in the mirror now. Just as I pulled my t-shirt over my head to finish dressing, the bedroom door burst open unexpectedly. Ms Bryson walked in, looking slightly surprised at seeing me standing there now fully dressed. "Oh, sorry to burst in without knocking," she opened, "I just thought I heard a yell?" "N..no. No...I'm fine," I stamered in response. "Are you sure?" she asked. "Oh, just while I'm in here, I think I might have mixed a pair of my panties up in the laundry. Have you seen them?" N..no, s...sorry," I stuttered, my face flushing with guilt I was sure. She looked over at the pile of laundry and must have noticed part of her panties peeping out from under the bed. Before I could say or do anything, she started towards them, saying, "Ah, there they are, they must have fallen on the floor." I winced as she picked them up, continuing, "Oh these are still wet. Oh.....oh...that's not water." She looked at me and I wished the ground would swallow me up. "Well, looks like you've done a little more than just 'seen' these," she commented pointedly. "Please...I..I'm so sorry. I...I.. didn't mean to," I babbled looking down at the floor, feeling like I was on the verge of tears. "Oh, don't worry, Stuart. It's not the first time I've found my underwear like this, sure it won't be the last. How about we keep this our little secret and never mention it again?" she asked me. Like a drowning man grabbing a life raft, I quickly replied, "Y..yes. Yes. Thank you Ms Bryson," feeling utterly pathetic but a little relieved. "Just one condition, though," she continued. "Y..yes, of course, whatever you want," I mumbled in response, desperate for this humiliation to be finished. "Tell, me. Did you just use these to masturbate or did you try them on?" she asked. If there's a pivotal moment in my life, that was probably it. I could have lied and salvaged a little dignity but I'd been raised to be honest and I was so ashamed and confused I just blurted out, "I..I tried them on," my voice sounding so weak. "Naughty boy," Ms Bryson replied with a little chuckle. She actually winked at me before turning and leaving the room with the sperm-soaked panties still in her hand. At that moment, I wished I was dead, being talked to like a small child just adding to my total humiliation. How could I have been so stupid, so weak? I'd just confessed to my hot young landlady that I enjoyed wearing women's panties. Could I have done anything more embarrassing? I considered calling my Aunt and begging her to take me back. I thought about just simply running away or asking the college to find me alternative accommodation, but how could I explain why I needed it? In the end, in a state of dejection with my mind reeling, I flopped down on the bed and fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. -O- I woke the next morning with a moment of calm before the painful memories of the previous evening returned. I sighed and realised I'd just have to get on with it. Hopefully Ms Bryson would remain true to her word and we could forget everything. I noticed the clock and saw that I was running late for classes so quickly undressed and stepped into the shower for a quick wash. After drying myself I walked over to the chest of drawers and opened the top drawer to get a clean pair of boxers and some socks. What I saw made me gasp out loud. In the place where my plain cotton shorts would have sat was a small pile of brightly coloured, lacy garments. Someone, most likely Ms Bryson, had crept into my room in the night and replaced my normal male underwear with an assortment of lace boy-shorts in different colours. On top was a pair in garish neon pink, with other pairs in white, red, black, baby blue, primrose yellow and dark purple underneath. I thought for a second about what to do. I could shout for Ms Bryson and demand a return of my normal pants. But I couldn't exactly claim I didn't like wearing panties anymore, could I? I could ignore them and wear nothing or put back on yesterday's dirty pair of boxer shorts. Strangely though, I thought that might offend Ms Bryson and I found myself picking up the bright pink pair from the top of the pile. I stepped into them and pulled them on, enjoying the same sensations and thrill of the previous night. Slipping my jeans on top and fastening them up felt somehow different though. It was as if I was accepting that girls" lace panties were now somehow my normal underwear. I finished dressing quickly, realising time was marching on and I needed to hurry up. Jack and Richard had already left and I walked into the kitchen to see Ms Bryson sitting drinking a coffee at the table. She smiled and greeted me and I fought the desire to turn and run away. "I..I think I'll skip breakfast today, I'm running late," I said, turning slowly to leave. "Nonsense," she replied quickly, "you can't concentrate without a good breakfast. I'll drive you to college, go and make yourself some toast." I stepped over and put a couple of slices of bread into the toaster and stared at the machine wishing it would cook faster. I felt Ms Bryson stand up and move behind me, almost trapping me against the counter. "So which pair did you choose for today?" she whispered in my ear. There was no point pretending I didn't know what she was asking and softly replied, "The pink pair," feeling my cheeks burn. "Just as I guessed. So perfectly girly. Let me see," she responded, her hands moving round my waist from behind, deftly unfastening my jeans and pulling them halfway down my thighs. I didn't resist, unsure even if I could, as her hands roamed over the soft, feminine material of the panties. "Oh, aren't these just darling. They fit you so well, you know. They must feel wonderful on," she whispered as she explored my butt and reached around to pull the front waistband down over my now throbbing cock. "Mmmm, looks like you are enjoying the feel," she crooned as her soft hand began to stroke up and down my stiff cock. I moaned in pleasure, captured by the sensation. However, the toaster finished its job and popped up with a ching, causing me to lose control and shoot a jet of cum all over the work surface. "Whooops," Ms Bryson said with a giggle, "messy." She pulled a piece of kitchen roll from the dispenser and wiped up my sperm from the surface before returning to the table and sitting own as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Blushing deeply, I pulled the pink lace panties back over my cock and pulled and fastened my jeans over them again. I spread my toast and sat and ate it with a cup of coffee, Ms Bryson making idle chit-chat about the weather and her plans for the day. She drove me to college and, as I walked away from the car, I glanced back to see her giving my ass a somewhat lecherous look. It made me a little paranoid and I went straight to the bathroom to check that I wasn't showing a visible pantie line through my jeans. Of course the thin soft material did not show but I found it hard to shake the feeling that everyone could somehow tell I was wearing something pink and girly under my jeans. That evening I arrived back and sat through dinner with Ms Bryson, Jack and Richard. Jack and Richard seemed much more relaxed and pleasant than they had been and, again, I couldn't shake the feeling that they knew about what I was wearing instead of regular boxer shorts. After dinner, I excused myself and went to my room to do some studying before going to bed. In the morning I got up and tossed yesterday's pink panties into the laundry basket before showering. I opened my drawer and the only moment of hesitation I had was to pick which colour of lacy knickers I was going to wear. I picked the red pair and slipped them on, smiling happily at how good they felt before finishing dressing and going downstairs. Again, Jack and Richard had already left and I quickly made myself some toast and a cup of coffee as Ms Bryson sat drinking hers. As I was spreading my toast she asked, "So, what colour did you chose today?" "Red," I replied knowing exactly what she meant. "Good. I guessed right again, look, they match mine," she said as I turned round. She unbuttoned the front of her blouse, displaying her perfect, full breasts nestling in the cups of a red lacy bra, the dark patches of her nipples showing through the material. "Show me you panties, dear," she commanded as I stood in front of her. Immediately I unbuttoned my trousers and dropped them to my knees, displaying the bright red material. She cooed and crooned as she ran her hands over them, stimulating my already stiff cock. Pulling the waistband down, she released my cock from its lacy cage and began stroking it. Within minutes I found myself pushed over the edge to a shuddering orgasm, spraying her ample cleavage with my cum. She giggled and reached for a napkin, handing it to me to clean myself and her beautiful breasts before I pulled my pants up and we headed off for the drive to college. The following day, Thursday, our little routine continued, this time with me in the baby blue panties. This time Ms Bryson sat on the edge of the table with her skirt hitched up and her legs open displaying her white satin panties stretched over her crotch. The sight was so arousing and I quickly came all over them, soaking the shiny material. Afterwards she slipped them down her legs and left them in a small pile on the kitchen floor. "I'll get a fresh pair when I get back," she told me with a wink. Throughout the drive to college I was totally distracted by the thought of her naked pussy under her short skirt beside me. Finally Friday arrived. I wore the black panties and Ms Bryson again sat on the edge of the table with her skirt up to display her dark red satin knickers. This time, just as I was about to come, she pulled down the waist band displaying a teasing glimpse of her shaven pussy. At first glimpse I started to cum and she guided the head of my cock such that I came all over her lower stomach and dripped into the cotton gusset of her panties. She pulled them up with a smile. "Looks like I'll need a shower and a change of knickers when I get back today," she giggled. By this time I was head over heels in love with her and now totally associated panties with pleasure and pleasure with panties. As we pulled up at the college, Ms Bryson asked me, "Do you have any plans for this evening?" Of course, I didn't. I'd barely got to know anybody on my course through the week, becoming increasingly shy and awkward at the thought that they might be able to tell I was wearing my, by now regular, feminine underwear. "Well," Ms Bryson continued after I had told her I was free that night, "Richard and Jack are both away for the weekend. How about you and I have a girly night in together?" she asked one of her hands resting on my thigh. Of course I agreed, without thinking (or possibly no longer even caring) about what might be involved. -O- Returning home that evening I was excited, but a little nervous, to see what Ms Bryson had in store for me. She greeted me when I entered, wearing a fairly simple, loose black cotton dress and black ballet pumps, although her hair was up in a very attractive style and her makeup was immaculately done (or more than usual anyway). After a kiss on the cheek, she whispered, "I've put some new clothes out on your bed for you. Why don't you go and try them for size?" I simply nodded, a little shyly, and headed to my room. True to her word, neatly laid out on the bed were the clothes Ms Bryson wanted me to wear. There was a padded white lace bra and panty set with baby blue ribbon trim. Next to it was a similar flowing cotton dress to the one she was wearing but in a blue floral print and, on the floor next to the bed, a pair of brown leather strappy sandals with a flat sole. There was a moment's hesitation as I considered that there was no going back from this but that was quickly overtaken by my desire to wear the pretty dress. I stripped, tossing my black lace panties into the laundry basket, and put on the clean white pair. I fumbled a little with the bra, an unfamiliar garment, but soon had it on and adjusted the straps to place the cups over my nipples. I pulled the dress over my head and smoothed the soft material down over my body, loving the free and floaty sensation it gave me. I slipped the sandals on to my feet and, just as I was about to step over to the mirror to see how I looked, Ms Bryson walked in, with a bag in her hand. "My, my. Don't you just look pretty as a picture," she said with a smile, causing me to blush a little. She gestured to me to sit on the bed and sat down beside me and opened the bag. She took out a small pair of hoop earings and clipped them to my earlobes. "A cute young girl like you doesn't need to use much makeup, but let's put a little on, shall we?" she said and I didn't protest as she applied a little blusher, followed by black eyeliner and mascara, a dusting of pale blue eye shadow and a light pink lipstick with a coat of shiny gloss over it. Once finished, she leaned back to admire her handiwork with a smile. "Go on, take a look," she instructed, pointing to the mirror. I got up and walked over, as if in a dream, almost scared to see my reflection. The person that looked back at me was a complete change from my normal look, nothing less than a cute young teenage girl with a blonde pixie cut and budding breasts staring back at me. My blue eyes positively popped with the eye makeup and my lips looked perfectly kissable. Ms Bryson moved behind me, smiling at the look of curiosity and wonder on my face. "Isn't she just darling?," she asked. "What do you think we should call her?" I was momentarily puzzled - it was still unfamiliar to be referred to as a girl, although masculine words and pronouns increasingly seemed incorrect - I hadn't considered that I might need a change of name. I thought hard, what name might suit the pretty girl in the mirror? Nothing came, though. I began to think of the names of women I'd known, famous film and pop stars, even girls I'd been attracted to, but nothing seemed to fit. "Come on, petal, think of something," Ms Bryson prompted as she ran her hands over my shoulders, making me shiver. "I could think of a name for you, but I don't think you'd like being called 'Gertrude'," she teased. After a minute more, almost unbidden, it came to me. "Susannah. Her name is Susannah. Susie for short," I whispered, realising I'd taken yet another major step away from manhood. "Susannah. That's just perfect," Ms Bryson agreed, gently turning me to face her. She leant over and kissed me softly on the lips, the feeling of my lip-gloss against hers a strange, though not unpleasant, sensation. "Pleased to meet you Susannah. Susie for short," she said after drawing back for breath. "And I'm pleased to meet you too, Ms Bryson," I replied, my voice seeming to have risen a few notes. "Oh, Shirlie. You must call me Shirlie from now on," she said in a slightly mock- scolding tone. "Of course. Shirlie," I replied again, prompting her to kiss me again, this time more firmly, with a rising passion, her tongue flicking out to explore the shape of my glossy lips. With only the thin material of two dresses and two pairs of panties between us, there was no way to hide my growing arousal as we embraced and kissed. The scent of the perfume was intoxicating and I shivered with delight as her hands began to roam over my body, caressing my back and grasping my butt. Pretty soon her hand moved round the front of my dress (my dress!) and began to stroke my stiff cock. Pushing me back gently onto the bed, she flipped up my dress and grasped the waistband of my panties, pulling them down my thighs and off one foot, leaving them still wrapped around my right ankle. Smiling at me she looked down my body and said, "I've got a surprise for you, darling," she purred, licking her lips. She lowered her head and I gasped in surprise and pleasure as she took my cock into her mouth. I was helpless on the bed as she pleasured me, her tongue expertly roaming over my erection, discovering sensitive spots I didn't know I had and her mouth sucking firmly on it while her head moved up and down. I've no idea how I managed not to cum but after a few minutes she stopped and raised her head, looking at me with undisguised lust. "May I ask you something, Susie?" she whispered. I nodded and she asked, "Are you a virgin, my angel?" In the past, I'd lied in response to that question whenever someone at school had teased me about it, trying to pretend I was more experienced and making up a story about a girl I'd met on holiday. However, in that situation I couldn't give anything other than the truth. "Y..yes. Yes I am, Shirlie," I croaked. Smiling lustfully down at me, "Do you mind if I...?" she asked with no doubt about what the unfinished question would be. Again, I could do no more than shake my head, lying helpless with my cock throbbing. She ruffled up the skirt of her dress, hooked her thumbs into the side of her red lace panties and pulled them down her slim legs to the floor. Stepping out of the panties she climbed onto the bed and straddled my waist. I gasped again in delight as her warm, wet pussy engulfed my stiff cock and, just like that, she took my virginity. She sat motionless on my cock for a few minutes, gasping approvingly every time it twitched and throbbed inside her. She began to move her hips up and down, slowly at first but with a steadily increasing pace. There was no way I could hold off cumming with my inexperience and within a few short minutes I was panting, "I...I...I'm going to,....going to..." I gasped as my body tensed and my cock swelled. "Yes....yes...yes...my angel, cum for me, cum for me," she panted, her face and chest blushing red with lust. I pumped my cum inside her, shuddering in my climax and this seemed to send her over the edge into her own. Afterwards, she lay on top of me for several minutes while my cock wilted and, eventually, fell out of her pussy. She lifted her head and kissed me, "Good girl, that was wonderful. Did you? Did you enjoy it?" It was nothing like how I'd imagined losing my virginity but this week had been full of sexual experiences I'd never imagined and I nodded my head in assent. She got up and took some tissues from the night stand and cleaned herself then me. She picked up her panties and slipped them back up her legs and smoothed her skirt down her legs while I did the same. Holding out her hand and waggling her fingers she invited me, "Come on, Susie, let's go get a glass of wine." I took her hand and followed her downstairs where she popped the cork on a bottle of prosecco and poured us each a glass. "Here's to us," she toasted and we clinked glasses and drank. Sitting together on the sofa we chatted happily and I had to smile at the glasses on the table in front of us - hers with the red lipstick mark on the rim and mine with a pink mark. She put on some music and brought out a couple of bottles of nail polish. She applied a very pale pink polish to my finger and toe nails, explaining what she was doing so that I could do the same for her. It felt very intimate as I applied a dark plum polish on her nails and when she expressed her approval it seemed I was a natural at mani- and pedicure. Later that evening we retired to bed in Shirlie's room and there was one last surprise for a life-changing day. On her bed were two lacy baby-doll nighties with matching thing panties, one in white and one in black. I felt so completely feminine as we undressed together, put on our night gowns and slipped under the bed covers. We made love slowly and sensually one more time before I drifted off into the deepest, happiest sleep I'd had since I was a small child. -O- The next day, after some early morning sex and a shower, Shirlie did my hair and make-up again while I sat in a short purple satin dressing gown. This time, she took the time to explain what she was doing, making it clear that I needed to learn how to do this myself. She dressed me in black lacy bra and panties with black opaque pantyhose. Over that I wore a short red dress with black patent pumps on my feet - they had a kitten heel and Shirlie hinted that I would need to learn to walk with progressively higher heels from now on. I was nervous as a kitten as Shirlie took me out into town. Despite her reassurances, I was sure everyone would be able to tell I wasn't really a girl. However, as the day wore on and nobody treated me as anything other than a young girl out with her older sister, I began to relax. As I relaxed, my speech, mannerisms and posture all became steadily more feminine and, by the end of the day, even I was thinking that I was girl, even enjoying some of the appreciative glances that men and boys gave me as I walked by. Naturally, we spent most of the day shopping. Shirlie delighted in picking out clothes that a girl my age would wear and look good in and sending me off to try them on. I delighted in her approval, often joined by the shop assistants, and we ended up buying nearly a full wardrobe of clothes and shoes - everything from underwear to overcoats, shoes to hats. We enjoyed lunch out and returned home in the evening to watch a romantic comedy before retiring to bed (and more, wonderful sex). The next morning, Sunday, I dressed in some of the new clothes we'd bought, a pair of girl's jeans and a t-shirt with a lilac cardigan over the top. I happily helped Shirlie round the house with the cleaning and laundry. Loading the washing machine, I smiled as I put in the lacy panties I'd worn through the week and the pairs I'd seen Shirlie in. There seemed to be many more pairs of panties on top of those but I didn't think anything of it at the time. Evening rolled around and after a light supper I took a bath. I shaved my legs and armpits for the first time, relishing the smooth feeling as I applied a lightly scented moisturiser on my skin. I stepped into a pair of pink cotton panties and pulled on a short white towelling gown before applying some light make-up and pink lipstick and returning downstairs and entering the living room. I almost turned round and ran when I saw Shirlie sitting there with two other young girls. A teenage black girl was sitting on the sofa, wearing a cropped band t-shirt, cutoff denim shorts and red heels. Next to her was a dark-haired girl with black lipstick and heavily made-up eyes contrasting with her white foundation. She was wearing a black corset dress with a skirt flared out with black petticoats, fishnet stockings and black leather knee boots with large silver buckles down the side in perfect goth-lolita style. Before I could exit however, Shirlie beckoned me in as I blushed deeply. Appearing as a girl to strangers in public had been fine but being confronted up close by two girls my own age in the house made me distinctly nervous. "Susie, come in and meet Rachel and Jasmine," she said and the two girls stood. I almost squealed and ran before it dawned on me. The two girls were, in fact, Richard and Jake! They hugged me in turn as I stood there frozen. "Oh, Susie, you're just adorable," Rachel exclaimed, stepping back to look me up and down. "Oh yes, she's a total cutie," Jasmine agreed, "You've done a great job, Ms Shirlie." I blushed deeply and followed the girls into the room, taking a seat beside Shirlie. "We're sorry we were a bit off-hand when you moved in, Susie," Rachel said, as she sat, "We just didn't like having to be boys around the house again. But Shirlie was sure you'd fall for the panty trick, just like we did." "Yes, Susie, we're sorry and we hope you'll forgive us," added Jasmine, "I just know we're all going to be the best of girl-friends from now on." For the rest of the evening, we sat chatting just like a bunch of young girls who had known each other for ages. I sat snuggled up next to Shirlie as she draped a protective arm around my shoulder and everything felt just right. Jasmine was right, from then on we did all become the best of girl- friends. Helping each other out with clothes, hair and make-up as I discovered my feminine self. Rachel tended to dress in darker colours, often verging on the gothic, with a variety of leather and PVC skirts, shorts and leggings. Sometimes though, she would dress like a business woman or secretary in a smart skirt and blouse, stockings and towering heels. She also had a fairly steady string of boyfriends that would arrive to take her out for the night at weekends. Jasmine generally wore much younger looking clothes - jeans, cut-off shorts, flowery tops and sandals, like a girl in her early teens. Occasionally, and just around the house, she would dress even younger in frilly dresses, knee socks and Mary-jane shoes like a toddler - she even had a cute baby blue "Alice-in-Wonderland" dress with petticoats and a pinafore. My own style developed into that of a very feminine girl in her late teens or early twenties. I rarely wore trousers, preferring short skirts or dresses. I preferred relatively light make-up and started to grow my hair out, looking forward to being able to wear it in long ponytails or plaits. Of course, I loved lingerie and built up a large collection of girls underwear containing everything from plain white cotton panties and bras to a silk and lace corset. -O- A few weeks later, Shirlie and I were lying in bed, both dressed in matching blue babydoll nighties with side-tying panties. We gently kissed and caressed each other's bodies, enjoying the sensations and the slow drift into arousal. Foreplay with Shirlie could last mere seconds or minutes, as she jumped on me in lust, or for hours, as was happening now, and it excited me that I never knew what she was going to do. She broke off from teasing my nipples through the thin lace of my nightie to look me in the eye. "Susie, darling, would you let me take your virginity?" she asked softly. I was momentarily confused, "But..but you already did, Shirlie," I replied. Her hand moved to my crotch and her fingers rubbed gently down the smooth satin between my legs until a fingertip rested against the sensitive rosebud of my ass. "No, I meant back here, dear," she whispered before lowering her head to the front of my panties and teasing my stiff cock through the thin material with her tongue. I was still unsure of what exactly she meant but I was now utterly helpless, panting in lust as her finger rubbed the smooth fabric around my asshole. She stopped and untied the bows at the sides of my panties, pulling them off and throwing them across the room. She took my throbbing cock into her mouth as her finger returned to teasing my rear. After a few minutes, she sucked her finger and applied it to my tight hole, pushing gently until my ass opened and her fingertip entered me. "Is this OK, angel?" she asked and I could only gasp and nod in assent as her finger continued to slowly slide in. She returned to sucking my cock as I enjoyed the new, wonderful sensation of her finger exploring my insides and slowly sliding in and out my ass. Of course, this was too much to take for long and I came hard into her mouth, my ring contracting rhythmically around her finger, its tip resting against an oh-so-sensitive spot inside me enhancing my orgasm. Still with her finger inside, she moved up and kissed me deeply, snowballing my cum into my willing mouth. "So, did you enjoy that, princess?" she asked smiling as I lay there, still impaled on her finger. "Yes, darling, I loved it, it was wonderful," I replied, in post- orgasmic bliss. "Good, that's settled then," she told me as she slowly withdrew her finger, causing me to gasp as my ring snapped shut when it finally left me, "We're going to get us a strap-on cock and I'm going fuck you like a girl should be fucked." Of course Shirlie was extremely hot anyway, but when this normally respectable and proper woman talked dirty it drove me wild with lust. "Now, you better get that tongue to work, I'm feeling really rather horny now," she continued pointing to the front of her panties. Naturally, I knew just what she meant and wasted no time in complying. The following Saturday, our weekend shopping trip took us to a slightly seedier area of town and into a sex-shop. I was extremely nervous, particularly as two sleazy looking men browsing the shelves of magazines and DVDs regarded me salaciously, as if I was a prime piece of livestock at auction. Shirlie took great delight in picking up and examining an assortment of whips, restraints and toys as I cringed. Things took an even worse turn for my dignity when the female shop assistant came over and asked us if we needed any help. It didn't help that she was an extremely attractive busty redhead, dressed in a black t-shirt, tight black leather mini-skirt, fishnet stockings and over the knee black leather boots. To my horror, Shirlie said yes and told her we were looking for a strap-on in a voice loud enough for the two men to hear clearly. The assistant then took at least half an hour to take us through the assortment of harnesses and dildos, explaining the pros and cons and recommending types of lube for each while I wished the ground would swallow me. Shirlie lapped it up, asking questions and disclosing some rather personal information on preferences while making it clear who was going to be on the receiving end of or final purchase.. The shop girl could barely conceal her arousal at the thought of this glamourous older women breaking in her pretty teenage lover and, at one point, I thought she was going to invite us through the back for a "try-before- you-buy" session. Finally, Shirlie selected a black dildo, roughly the same size as my cock, with moulded on balls and a sturdy leather harness with a metal ring at the front to hold it in place. The assistant bagged the items, adding a large pump-action bottle of lubricant. As we left the shop , I almost died when she shouted "Have fun, ladies," as she waved us out, drawing chuckles from the two shoppers and causing Shirlie to dissolve in a fit of the giggles once we were outside. That evening, after a light meal and a shower, we went to Shirlie's bedroom. Shirlie surprised me slightly, dressing in a lace-trimmed black leather corset that I didn't know she owned. The corset had six wide suspender straps that she clipped to sheer black seamed stockings and slipped on a pair of black patent leather stilettos with an ankle strap and a black satin thong. She looked like a goddess and I could barely keep my tongue from hanging out in lust. By contrast, I was wearing a white satin slip trimmed generously with lace and a pair of white lace panties. My sheer stockings were white with a pair of white, high-heeled strappy sandals on my feet. I felt like a virginal bride about to give up her precious innocence to her new husband. As I lay seductively on the bed, Shirlie strapped on the harness and pushed the black dildo through its slot. She looked quite masculine and powerful as she stood there holding her new cock in one hand and slowly stroking it. Certainly much more masculine than I felt. She beckoned to me with a finger and, once I was standing in front of her, she gave the single command, "Kneel!" I couldn't help but obey and, with the black cock waving right in front of my face there was only one thing to do. It felt almost entirely natural to take her cock into my mouth and suck it. I felt incredibly submissive and controlled as I raised my eyes and looked up at her smiling down at me. And incredibly horny, I have to say. She made me kiss, lick and suck the long black shaft, not forgetting to pay attention to the balls, teaching me to be a good cock-sucker as if the dildo was a real cock and she could feel everything I was doing. After some time, she pointed to the bed and I obediently crawled onto it and lay back. Kneeling beside me, she ran her hands up the outside of my thighs, ruffling up the hem of my slip and grabbing the waistband of my skimpy panties. Drawing them down my stocking clad legs, she pulled them off and tossed them nonchalantly over her shoulder to flutter to the floor. She gently pushed my legs wide and knelt between them as she reached over for the bottle of lube. We held eye contact as she pumped some of the clear gel onto her fingertips and lowered her hand to my ass and began to smear it around the opening. I was so nervous but utterly, helplessly excited as she began to push first one, then two fingers into my tight hole and lubricated me inside too causing me to gasp and moan in lust. Shirlie smiled with satisfaction as she withdrew her fingers and began to smear lube over the strap-on. Once she was happy it was well covered, she put a hand behind each of my knees and forced my legs up and out, exposing my vulnerable ass. She shuffled up and rested the tip of the cock against my entrance. "Are you ready, angel?" she whispered, her voice hoarse with lust. I simply nodded, there was no backing out now and I wanted nothing more than to be fucked by this perfect goddess at that moment. She pushed gently and steadily, sliding the long, hard dildo into me, making me squeal. At first my cries were of discomfort, even pain, but that soon gave way to pleasure and lust as she filled me. The sensations were amazing, almost indescribable, feeling stretched and full but, oh so stimulated and turned on. "Does that feel good, my slut? Do you like my cock inside you, bitch?" she asked and, again, all I could do was nod in agreement. She began to fuck me, slowly and steadily at first but gradually increasing her pace. Our moans and pants were synchronised as I lay there taking everything she could give me. Eventually, though, the pace and stimulation grew too much and my tight hoop began to rhythmically contract as my cock twitched and pulsed, shooting my cum up the front of the slip I was wearing. Shirlie too became tensed and flushed, the pressure of the dildo against her mons stimulating her to orgasm as she screamed "Ohhhh, yeessss, Suuusiee," in ecstacy. She collapsed on top of me and I lay there, pinned and motionless in post-orgasmic bliss with her cock still inside me. After some time, she raised herself back up with her arms and gazed adoringly down at me. "Well. Susie. That was an unexpected bonus. Coming together, I mean," she said in a slightly tired voice, "Did you enjoy your first fuck?" "Yes, darling, it was wonderful," I replied, in a dreamy, blissed-out tone. "Good, girl. You really are a hot little tramp, you know?" She grinned at me. I looked up in complete love at this wonderful woman, flushed and dishevelled as she was. I marvelled at how she had just peeled away my masculinity as if it was a mere temporary label and how much I adored her for it. "Yes, my love. I'm your hot little tramp," I replied happily. She withdrew her cock, prompting a short gasp from me as my asshole snapped closed again, "Well, I think I might just have to keep you, princess, and fuck you regularly," she sighed, falling into my arms and kissing me passionately. After that night, we gradually built up a collection of sex toys; strapons, dildos, vibrators, butt-plugs and probes. We normally went to the same sex shop where the assistant, who we discovered was named Rose, was always extremely helpful. She was full of hints, tips and advice on the toys, telling us what she and her girlfriend enjoyed best. She made it very clear that she was very keen to join us in a threesome, or even a foursome with her girlfriend. Shirlie was more than intrigued about the offer but I was always a bit more reticent and we never took it up. I was worried how Rose would react to what was in my panties although, to be fair, I'm pretty sure she'd have taken it in her stride. -O- After a couple of more months of living as Susie at weekends but still going to college as a boy (albeit with pretty, girly panties under my jeans) I began to grow increasingly down. Every Sunday evening in particular I would get depressed at the thought of no longer being able to dress as the young girl I was becoming. I confided in Shirlie and she made a suggestion that I was more than happy to follow. That week, I made an appointment with my college guidance counsellor and confessed my desire to be treated as a girl. She was only a little surprised and explained to me that the college had a well-used procedure for this type of situation. It seemed that, for some reason, the college had a much higher than average rate of boys wishing to transition to girls. That Friday, I took the afternoon off class while it was explained to my class mates that, from now on, I wished to be known as Susie and treated like a girl. The following Monday I was more than a little nervous as I turned up for my first class in a short denim skirt, red striped cotton blouse with a women's red leather jacket over it and red shoes with a kitten-heel. I needn't have been nervous, however, as everyone was perfectly lovely. The girls immediately took me under their wing, giving me loads of helpful advice and clothes, hair and make-up tips. I also noticed that some of the guys in the class that had simply ignored me before were now giving me the odd appraising look. Some weeks after that, I had a slightly more difficult "coming out" when Aunt Margaret came to visit. I took her out to a quiet caf?, wearing jeans and a t-shirt (with a baby-blue pair of satin panties trimmed with white lace and a matching bralette underneath) and flat patent loafers, looking fairly androgynous. When I finally confessed to her that I wanted to be a girl she burst into tears. She told me that she'd done her best to raise me and was sorry if she done it wrong and made me gay. I assured her that I wasn't gay, not that there was anything wrong if I was, and that she'd been just perfect and that this was just something I had to do. As she gradually calmed down and talked, things became more comfortable and I excused myself to the bathroom. Inside, I quickly applied my make-up. My hair was now just down to my neck and I brushed it out from its short pony tail and tucked it behind my ears with the help of a pink Alice-band. I clipped on a pair of hoop earings and admired my reflection. I didn't know it at the time but that was the last time I made the transition from boy to pretty girl - after that I was never anything else but feminine. When I re-entered the caf?, Aunt Margaret was astonished at the change, uncharacteristically speechless for a moment. "Oh, Susie, you look just lovely," she exclaimed. After that, it seemed completely natural for her to treat me as a girl and we both relaxed and enjoyed the rest of the day in each other's company. As she left me at the station, she kissed me on both cheeks and embraced me happily. "See you soon, Susie," she said as she turned to board the train, "it's been such a pleasure to meet my niece." -O- After Christmas I found myself a little short of cash. I mentioned this to Shirlie and suggested that I get a Saturday job to help make ends meet. I politely declined when she offered to give me money, I didn't want to be a burden even though she was an independently wealthy woman. Shirlie still wanted to help me though and made a phone call to a friend that she knew could help. The following Saturday morning I arrived at the Sunset Beauty salon for an early start. I was wearing black leather high-heeled knee boots, black opaque pantyhose and a green knitted jersey dress that went down to just above my knees. Shirlie's friend, Mrs Davis, welcomed me and told me that she "d heard all about me from Shirlie and knew that I'd just be perfect for a job. She took me into the salon and introduced me to the other three girls that worked there, all of whom gave me a warm welcome. Mrs Davis explained that, for the moment, I would mainly be helping out with getting drinks for the customers and assisting the other girls. I would, however, be able to do some manicures and pedicures and, as I learnt more, she would let me take on more tasks. Mrs Davis took me through to a back room and showed me the uniform I'd have to wear. I had the choice of a pink or white satin tunic dress, with a mandarin collar and a row of buttons down one side of the front. Naturally I chose pink. I slipped off my jersey dress, feeling slightly shy in front of a relative stranger. She gave a low whistle as I stood in front of her in my black lacy undies, pantyhose and boots. "You're going to make some lucky guy very happy one day, Susie dear," she told me with a smile, handing me the uniform. I put it on, realising that the hem was so short I would have to be very careful sitting down in it. Bending over would be out of the question, unless I wanted to give everyone a detailed view of my lacy panties and butt. I followed her back into the shop and began work polishing the mirrors. I came to love working in the salon, being completely immersed in a totally female environment and learning plenty about nails, hair and make-up from Mrs Davis and the other girls. It seemed I had a genuine talent with a brush and soon had a small group of regular customers of my own. The extra cash and the generous tips from the customers were an added bonus but I think I would almost have been happy to work there for free. -O- A few Saturdays later, I returned from work and climbed the stairs to go and get changed out of my uniform in my room. I knew Shirlie was out visiting a friend and wouldn't be back till later, so I was planning just to relax for a while. Passing Jasmine's door, however, I was surprised when it suddenly opened. Jasmine stood in the doorway, wearing a red, fur-trimmed lace negligee over a matching baby doll nightie. She had on red fishnet stockings with a lace top and red high-heels on her feet. The red contrasted wonderfully with her black skin and I could feel myself becoming hot just looking at her. "Hi, Susie," she said, breaking the silence, "Do you mind if I ask you something?" she continued, coming across all bashful and innocent. "Sure, Jasmine, of course," I replied, trying to be nonchalant. "Why don't you come in to my room and I'll ask?" she responded, twirling a lock of her hair in her finger. My head said no, but I found my body said yes and I slowly followed her into her room. "So," she asked, "Do you think I look hot in this outfit?" standing quite close to me and looking up into my eyes. "Y..yes. Yes, you look wonderful, very, very hot," I blurted, trying to deny where this was most likely going. "Good. I'm glad you like it. I wore it just for you." She told me before reaching behind my head and pulling me in for a deep and passionate kiss. Breaking off to breathe, and trying not to let her feel the growing bulge in the front of my pantyhose, I stammered, "J..jasmine, we..., we shouldn't, Sh..shirlie?...." She put a finger to my lips, "Shhhh, honey. Shirlie won't mind two of her girls playing together. In fact, I know it will turn her on to hear about it." In my horny, aroused state, that made perfect sense and any resistance I had crumbled. We kissed again, our hands exploring each other's bodies. After some time, Jasmine slipped down to her knees in front of me. Lifting the hem of my oh-so-short uniform dress, she pulled down the front of my opaque pantyhose and black lace shorts, releasing my throbbing cock. She purred in approval before sliding her red lips over the head, drawing a long moan of pleasure from me. Shirlie gave spectacular blow-jobs but Jasmine was next-level. Her lips, moth and tongue roamed all over my cock and balls, finding hidden sensitive spots and stimulating me beyond my imaginings. I tried to gently push her away so that I wouldn't cum too quickly but she resisted and, pretty soon, I found myself pumping my hot load into her willing mouth. She looked up at me with a wide smile. She lifted a finger to push a stray drop of cum at the corner of her mouth back inside and swallowed. "Did you enjoy that?" she asked, grinning up at me, cheekily. "Yes. Yes, of course," I manged to reply, my head still reeling from the pleasure. Jasmine got up and walked sexily over to the bed before reclining on it and looking back at me. "Why don't you take off that uniform and come and return the favour?" she asked huskily. I quickly zipped off my boots, pulled down my pantyhose and slipped out of my pink uniform before crawling on to the bed in my black lace undies. I kissed Jasmine, detecting the taste of my own semen in her mouth. I trailed a line of kisses down her neck, causing her to gasp with delight. My mouth and kisses moved down across her body and I was a little unsure over what to do but I was determined to reciprocate the pleasure she had given me. Jasmine undid the ties at the side of her lacy panties and let the front fall down, exposing her cock. It wasn't a micro-penis but it was pretty small, maybe slightly less than half the length of my own average sized cock. I decided I would treat it like an oversize clitoris and enveloped it with my mouth before swirling my tongue around it. "Oh, Susie....oh yes....yes, that's wonderful," Jasmine panted as I worked at it. I lacked the experience that she obviously had, but fairly quickly my efforts were rewarded with a hot load of sticky fluid filling my mouth. Looking up at her lying down with a satisfied look on her face, I asked, "How as that? Was I OK?" "That was great, Susie, just wonderful. There's still a few things you could learn and I hope you'll be willing to practice more but I think you might be a natural cocksucker," she replied dreamily. I blushed a little, it was strange to be talked about in those terms. She pulled me up and we lay together kissing gently and tenderly. Our moment was interrupted however, by the sound of the front door opening. "Oh my god!" I exclaimed. "Shirlie! She's back early," At the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs I dived under the covers, trying to hide behind Jasmine's tiny frame. To my horror the door opened and I tried to hold my breath so I wouldn't be found. "You can come out, Susie," I heard Shirlie's voice muffled by the covers, "That's fairly obviously your uniform there on the floor." Slowly I pulled the covers down and looked out, I'm sure looking as guilty as a scolded puppy. Shirlie, however, was smiling widely. "Well, looks like you girls are having fun. Do you have room for one more?" she asked rhetorically as she slipped off her dress revealing a set of peach satin underwear, liberally trimmed with white lace and climbed into bed with us. After that, sex with Jasmine became a quite regular event - either on my own or as part of a threesome with Shirlie. Shirlie loved lying back and touching herself as she watched Jasmine and me giving each other oral pleasure. Once we were finished, we would each suck and tease one of her nipples as she brought herself to climax after climax. She also loved to have us kneeling on the floor, playing with each other's cocks. She would stand between us, turning round from time to time to give us alternating tastes of her delicious pussy and ass. Jasmine and I never penetrated each other with our cocks. It simply never felt right as two girls to do that. We did, however, become expert at stimulating each other with our mouths, fingers and "borrowed" items from Shirlie's extensive collection of sex toys. A few weeks after that first night with Jasmine, Shirlie and I were lying together in bed reading. We heard the front door open and the door to Rachel's room open and shut. Putting my book down, I ran a fingertip up the inside of Shrilie's thigh, a move that almost never failed to arouse her. "Maybe we should see if Rachel would like to join us?" I asked, only half teasingly. Shirlie put her own book down and replied, "Well, we could. But she'd almost certainly say "No". She prefers boys you see." I smiled little at the thought that I could no longer be considered a boy and therefore would not be of any interest to Rachel. As I continued caressing the smooth skin inside her thigh, Shirlie added, "Besides, she's a top so I'm not quite sure things would work the way they do with Jasmine." It was a term I was unfamiliar with and I paused to ask, "A "top"?" "Yes, a top. A dominant person. Someone that calls the shots in bed." she explained. My look must have betrayed my curiosity and she continued as I pressed myself close to her soft, sensuous body, "You see, Rachel prefers boys. And the boys that she goes with don't fuck her, she fucks them. She particularly likes straight boys. She loves to seduce them and teach them things they never imagined doing. She'll tempt a boy into bed and teach them to be a good little cocksucker before bending them over and fucking their virgin ass." My own arousal grew, my cock stiffening in my panties at the idea of Rachel taking a na?ve young guy and making him her sex slave. Shirlie of course detected this and rolled on her side and began stimulating my cock through the silky material. "Mmmm. Looks like that idea turns you on, does it, princess?" she crooned seductively. "Would you like to see the surprise on a young man's face as he finds this in your panties? The confusion as he realises he's too turned on to back out? As he takes a stiff cock in his mouth for the first time?" she teased. I lay back and moaned in lust as her hand worked. "Or do you prefer the idea of someone taking control of you? Maybe you'd like a big, strong man to force his cock into your mouth? Roll you up like a human pretzel and fuck you helplessly till you scream?" she continued. Her dirty talk, combined with the new, sexy ideas she was planting in my head soon had me filling my panties with cum. Of course, that wasn't the end of it. My tongue had to work hard to give Shirlie several orgasms, she was so turned on by these fantasies. My own cock recovered and she pinned me to the bed, fucking me vigorously as she reached a final climax in time with me. These fantasies remained just that for the moment, something we explored together in bed. However, the thought had been planted in my head and smouldered there. I was a cute young girl, should I be exploring my sexuality with boys? If Rachel could do it, why not me? Would I enjoy seducing a boy or taking a more submissive role and letting a man seduce me? -O- A few weeks later it was a warm, sunny afternoon and the four of us were in the back garden drinking Mojitos. Shirlie had bought us all bikinis in a sexy, shiny shimmering fabric. They had a halter strap to hold up the cups and another that tied in a bow behind our shoulder blades. The bottoms tied at the side in another bow and were of a full-bottomed style. Rachel's was black (naturally), Jasmines a very light pink, my own was a dark purple and Shirlie's was gold. We'd all done our finger and toe nails in colours to match our new bikinis and wore black patent high-heels with an open toe. After a couple of drinks, Rachel's latest boyfriend Dave turned up. She sent him inside to change and he returned in a tiny pair of black shiny Speedo trunks. He was a swimmer and had a wonderfully strong toned body too. He sat in the deckchair between me and Rachel, enjoying the sun. "Go get Dave a beer, Suze," Rachel commanded curtly. She had a way of talking sometimes that brokered no disobedience, particularly when she called me "Suze." I jumped up and tottered off to the kitchen to obey, acutely aware of how the heels made my but wiggle and how that must look to Rachel and Dave with my shiny bikini on. I returned with the beer and handed the bottle to Dave. There was a moment of eye contact and a frisson of electricity as his had touched mine as he took the beer. That lasted a little too long and was interrupted by Dave receiving a stinging slap from Rachel on his shoulders. "Keep your eyes to yourself, my boy," she snapped, pouting a little. "I..I'm, sorry, darling," Dave mumbled blushing violently. "That's OK," Rachel said, breaking out in a smile to show she was only joking, "Even I have to admit that Susie looks insanely cute in that bikini." It was my turn to blush as Dave replied, "She certainly does. Only the other day I was showing a picture of her to my friend Paul. He said she was one of the hottest girls he'd ever seen and he'd love to go out with a girl like you." "Well," replied Rachel, "I was going to be spanking you later anyway, but I think you've just given me a perfect reason." It was pretty clear that she wasn't joking and Dave blushed even harder as Shirlie and Jasmine smiled on in amusement. "But maybe we could double date sometime? What do you say Suze?" Rachel queried. "I..I'm...I'm not sure," I replied, looking to Shirlie for help but her expression was unreadable. "That's a great idea. Go on, say yes, Susie. He really would love to go out with a girl like you," he said, emphasising the phrase "girl like you," making it pretty clear that his friend Paul knew all about me. Still unsure, I was surprised when Shirlie joined the conversation, "That sounds like a lovely idea and a very kind offer. You really should say 'yes' Susie. It'll be good for you to go out with people your own age." After another seconds thought, I replied, "Oh. OK then. Yes. Dave, why don't you make the arrangements?" I was very nervous, but a little excited at the prospect of a blind date with a guy, but I was sure that Rachel wouldn't let anything bad happen. I was more uncertain about what Shirlie really thought. I asked her afterwards, and again on a couple of occasions, whether she was all right about me going out with a guy. Each time she looked a little distant and wistful but gave a similar answer, telling me she didn't own me and that it would be good for me to go out and socialise with people my age. It didn't seem to affect our relationship, or sex life, outside of that, so I resolved to go and try and enjoy myself. -O- The night of the date arrived. I took a bath and shaved my legs and armpits and dried myself before smoothing a lightly scented coconut oil over my soft skin. I put on a black satin bra and padded it out and tied on a matching black suspender belt and drawing sheer black stockings up my legs. I fastened the stockings to the clips, enjoying the feeling of dressing for sex. Finally I slipped the black satin panties over the outside, "for easy access," as Shirlie had taught me. I chose a classic sleeveless red dress that came down to mid-thigh, just enough to cover my stocking tops if I was standing but short enough for someone sitting next to me to see that I was wearing stockings and not pantyhose. I fastened a black silk choker around my neck, put some dangly, diamond earings into my pierced ears and added some simple silver bracelets to each wrist. I put on a pair of black patent high heels with a red sole and stood to admire my reflection in the mirror. Striking a pose, I crooned, "All the boys want to fuck Suzie tonight," before blowing my reflection a kiss and heading downstairs. Shirlie had gone out for the evening but Jasmine was in the sitting room, dressed in a candy pink tracksuit and fluffy slippers. She nodded approvingly at how I was dressed and expressed regret that Dave didn't have a second friend so she could join us. Presently, Rachel joined us and we shared a quick glass of wine together. Rachel's dress was a similar style to mine but in a charcoal grey pinstripe material and she had dark-red suede knee-high boots on, her long hair styled into a high ponytail. Paul and Dave drew up in their car and we went out to join them. Paul was extremely handsome, short blonde hair, a wide smile and a sparkle in his eye. His tongue practically fell out his head as he looked me up and down as I walked to the car. We drove to a restaurant and walked in drawing plenty of attention from everyone there - two handsome young men and their hot dates. The meal was lovely and we enjoyed each other's company immensely, chatting and laughing. As the evening wore on, and I'd had a few more glasses of wine, I began to flirt more with Paul, teasing him with glances and the occasional stroke of my hand on his arm. After the meal, Rachel suggested we go back to the apartment that Dave and Paul shared and I didn't hesitate in agreeing. One inside, we shared another glass of wine, with a soft drink for Paul. Rachel and Dave quickly made themselves scarce, Rachel taking Dave's tie in her hand and leading him out to the bedroom. Paul sat beside me and it wasn't long before our conversation petered out and we began to kiss. Paul was an excellent kisser, tender but firm and his strong arms enveloped me. After a while I stood and let him unzip my dress before slipping it down to the floor and stepping out of it. His expression was that of a child opening its best Christmas present as I reclined on the sofa and he admired my extremely sexy underwear. He slipped off his shoes and practically tore off his shirt, trousers and socks before joining me in his black boxer shorts (a very obvious bulge in the front of them). We kissed and caressed some more but something was wrong. My own cock remained frustratingly limp in my panties where normally, if I was with Shirlie or Jasmine, it would be stiff as a rod. We continued to kiss and touch but Paul soon picked up that there was something more than nerves going on with me. Pulling back slightly, he asked, "Is everything OK, Susie?" "Yes, yes," I replied with a little less than full conviction and pulled him back in for more kissing as I began to stroke the front of his shorts. However much I tried to get turned on though, nothing was happening for me. Again, Paul detected my tension and pulled back, "Susie, it's OK. We can stop if you want. I'd never force a girl to do anything she doesn't want," he whispered gently. "No, no. I want to, you're very hot. I don't know what's wrong," I replied weakly. "Listen, Susie, its not a problem. If you're not ready or its just not happening, we can wait. I wouldn't want you to feel pressured or have any regrets," Paul told me sincerely. I felt an enormous sense of relief wash through me and then immediately felt guilty. I'd come here, very obviously, for this and I didn't want him to feel I'd led him on. "I..I'm sorry. It's not you, I just don't know what's the matter with me. Any girl would be delighted to be with such a lovely understanding guy," I replied. Paul smiled, "That's nice. I try to be a gentleman and I believe strongly that sex should always be consensual. Let's get dressed and I'll drive you home. We can do this another time when you're more sure it s what you really want." "I'm so sorry. I...I don't want to be prick-tease, I thought I wanted this and I definitely didn't want to lead you on," I apologised again. He opened his mouth to speak but I silenced him with a finger to his lips. "Wait. There is something we can do that I think we both will enjoy," I told him, pulling down the front of his shorts. His look of surprise quickly turned to one of delight as I lowered my head and took his semi-erect cock in my mouth. -O- Paul drove me home a short time later. I was still confused and upset as to why I hadn't wanted to have sex with him. However, I felt a small flush of pride when Paul, ever gallant, described the blowjob I'd given him as the best he'd ever had. At the house we kissed briefly and Paul asked me to give him a call. Politely, I said I would but I think we both knew that most likely wouldn't happen. I walked to the front door without a backwards glance and let myself in. Shirlie had returned and was sitting on the sofa on her own. Before she could speak, I practically dived across the room on top of her and hugged her tight, tears staring to flow. "Susie? Whatever's wrong?" she asked with concern. When I didn't answer, she asked again, "What's wrong angel? Did something happen? Did Paul hurt you?" "No....no..." I whimpered, "He was lovely, a perfect gentleman. It's just...it's just.." I tailed off. "What, Susie? Just what? Did you not enjoy it?" Shirlie asked, holding me tight. "No..no, there was no 'it.' I couldn't...I just didn't want to. I don't know why. Paul was wonderful, sexy, fun, we undressed but I just couldn't do it. I don't know what's wrong with me. Why wouldn't a girl want to, with a guy like that," I babbled. "Shhhh, angel." Shirlie cooed, gently stoking my hair as she held me, "Its OK, there's nothing wrong with you. Maybe it just wasn't the right time or he isn't the right boy or..." She trailed off. "Or what?" I asked tearfully. "Well, honey, maybe you just don't really like boys. Maybe you're a lesbian?" she finished. I lay for some minutes letting that sink in. Was I lesbian? Not that there would be anything wrong with that. Plenty of girls preferred girls to boys it wasn't abnormal. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. After tonight's experience I couldn't really see myself going with a man. I much preferred sexy, feminine partners like Shirlie and Jasmine and why was there any problem with that? Eventually calming I gazed up at Shirlie. "Well, if I'm going to be a lesbian, I think I'll just have to stay and be a lesbian with you." She smiled and gently kissed the top of my head as she stroked my hair soothingly. "I should like that, cupcake. I should like that very much indeed," she whispered. -O- After the end of my first year, for my nineteenth birthday, Shirlie paid for me to have breast implants and lip plumping surgery. When I asked for double-D implants, she laughed, saying that would make us close to the same size and we could share clothes - an unexpected bonus. Unfortunately, at the end of the college year, Jasmine and Rachel also both moved out. Jasmine moved in, as a girl, with two girls that were also on her course. Rachel moved in with Dave and two of her other boyfriends - her "pets" as she liked to call them. I still saw them from time to time and it was always great to catch up on some girly gossip. Shirlie and I had a fantastic vanilla sex life, as much as sex can be considered vanilla when the "man" is dressed in lacy lingerie and generally plays a more passive, submissive role. Shirlie needed sex at least once, more usually twice, a day and I was more than happy to oblige. However, Shirlie also wanted to explore a fuller range of BDSM activities and I was also happy to indulge this side of her appetites. I would occasionally act out just to attract punishment in the form of a spanking - bare handed, with a paddle or (our favourite) over her knee with a hairbrush or slipper. I loved being bound helplessly, with Shirlie teasing me with her wonderful body or forcing me to satisfy her with my tongue or throbbing cock before being granted release. There was an "incident" where one of the other lodgers, Mandy, a silly girl, accidentally walked in when I was hogtied and gagged on the bed with Shirlie's fist in my ass. Mandy was quickly dressed in matching lingerie and found herself hogtied and gagged beside me. Shirlie knelt between us, up to each wrist in our tight rings as she stimulated our prostates to orgasm. We did try going to a couple of swingers parties, but they didn't really work for us as neither of us was interested in the older men that generally attend that sort of event. We did get a lot of attention though from some of the more dominant women who were fascinated by the feminisation that I, and many of Shirlie's other lodgers, had gone through. Of course, Shirlie couldn't help but continue to play the panty trick on our guests and I was often consulted on which, precise, skimpy garment would work to tempt an unsuspecting lodger out of his masculinity. Around half of them would simply return the garment when they found it. Shirlie told me that, in the past, she would have bedded these straight males but, I was delighted to say, she now had little interest in them. Those that gave in and used the panties and tried them on were a lot more fun and there were a few notable ones over the years. There was Fred who suffered a little from OCD but, as a result, was more than happy performing menial, repetitive tasks for hours. Fred became Fifi our maid, wearing either a black or pink frilly French maid's uniform that Shirlie told me she had bought for a previous lodger who liked to do housework. Fifi would clean the house, do the laundry including handwashing our delicates, cook us meals and serve drinks on a tray. She would also give us the most wonderful, relaxing foot massage followed up by slow, gentle oral sex on each of us as we sat together on the sofa. Kevin was a bright but over-energetic, nearly hyperactive boy. He began to struggle with his college work from a lack of concentration and was easily distracted from his assignments. Shirlie dressed him in pink cotton panties with white trim and a matching bra, a white cotton blouse, a short tartan pleated school-skirt, white knee-socks and black patent shoes and he became Chloe. Chloe was a natural, diligent student completing all Kevin's assignments, especially with the threat of a spanking if she didn't and the reward of one of us helping to fill those pretty pink panties with her cum when she did. Kevin went on to gain a First-class degree, with a lot of help from his scholarly alter- ego Chloe. He now has a highly paid job in finance and I like to think that under his smart pinstripe trousers he continues to wear something inappropriately frilly and girly to keep his mind focussed. Finally there was Seb who suffered from painful shyness. He had some difficulty with his finances and needed to get a job to make ends meet. However, he struggled with the interviews because of his withdrawn personality. Shirlie came up with the perfect solution, encouraging him to apply for a job as a waitress at an upmarket restaurant nearby. We dressed Selina in black lacy lingerie, an ivory silk blouse, tight black lycra skirt, black opaque stockings and black heels (she had lovely long slim legs and a tight butt). Selina aced the interview and found she was regularly earning more than double her pay from tips that she gained by shamelessly flirting with the male customers, often to the disapproval of the wives, girlfriends or dates they were with. As I began to approach the end of my studies I began to feel increasingly uneasy. I was on track to get a good degree but I was no longer interested in a career in science. Basically all I wanted to do was to carry on working in the beauty salon and to stay with Shirlie and keep her happy. I wasn't sure, however, if that's what she wanted or if she would let me stay on after I graduated and I had no idea how I would live on my own. Fate ended up deciding thigs for us though. One day, returning from college I was met by a sombre faced Shirlie at the door. I was wearing black shiny leggings (with the pink, lacy "T" of my thong showing at the back), pink Converse boots, a pink crop-top that showed off my sparkling navel piercing and had "Babe" written across the front. I also had on a black baseball cap with "Princess" written on it in sparkling fake diamonds and my, now near waist-length, hair was pulled through the back in a ponytail. Normally a tempting, teasing outfit like this would have Shirlie practically jumping on me but today she said nothing and ushered me through to the sitting room. "Susannah, please sit. We need to talk," she told me in a flat voice. I felt panic rising in me, she rarely used my full name unless I was in a spot of trouble. Was this it? Was I about to get my orders to leave? I could feel tears welling up as these irrational, fearful thoughts passed through my head. "There's no easy way to break this to you so I'll, just come right out with it," she continued. I opened my mouth to beg and plead with her but no words came out. "I'm pregnant, Susannah. I'm going to have a baby," she told me and the shock could not have been greater. "You..you're going...going to have a baby?" I stammered, shock overcoming me. "But...but..but that's wonderful. You're going to be a mother," I carried on as I realised I wasn't being thrown out and this was, in fact, good news. "Aren't..aren't you happy, Shirlie?" I asked. "Well, that rather depends on you," she replied, her voice softening somewhat in response to my happiness and relief. Then it dawned on me. Shirlie had not had sex with anyone other than me for some time. We'd never used contraception as she'd been told early on in her marriage to her now deceased husband that she couldn't carry a child. That meant that the baby would be mine, I was the father. "You..you mean the baby is mine? I'm going to be a father?" I asked, the last word seeming wrong as I uttered it, especially coming from someone dressed as a flirty teenage girl. "Well, yes. Yes the baby is yours. I mean...I can get rid of it if you don't want to be a parent," she replied, almost matter-of-factly. The thought filled me with horror and I knew she had always wanted to be a mother. "No. No. No. Don't do that, I'd hate that," I cried, feeling tears start to well up. However, the thought began to form that if I was to be a father, I'd have to give up my feminine lifestyle and, at the very least, have my breasts removed. Could I manage that? How could I be happy giving up everything I enjoyed? "I...I'm just not sure how I could manage being a father..." I whimpered. It was Shirlie's turn to be surprised, this was obviously something she hadn't considered. "No, no, Susie dearest," she responded after a brief pause for thought, "I didn't expect you to be a father. I mean, how could you? No, I thought you'd be a co-parent with me, another mother if you like." An overwhelming feeling of happiness washed through me as I realised what she was suggesting. I could stay a girl and stay with her and help raise our baby. "Oh Shirlie darling, I'd like that. I'd like that very much," I gushed, smiling broadly. "Are you sure, angel? I don't want to pressure you," she quizzed gently. "Yes. Yes, of course I'm sure. I just want to stay with you and make you happy. That's all I've ever wanted my love," I replied. "Well, if you're sure, there's only one more thing to be done," she replied, her face starting to smile like mine. "Oh, What's that?" I queried, unsure what she meant. "Looks like I'm going to have to make an honest woman of you," she replied, grinning broadly. I wasn't sure what she meant, "I've always been honest with you darling," I told her, my voice fading in puzzlement. However, she didn't seem to be listening. She reached behind her into her bag and took something out. Slipping off the sofa she went down on one knee in front of me, holding up a small black box. I still hadn't worked out what she was doing when she opened the top of the box displaying its contents to me. The box held a gold ring with possibly the biggest, sparkliest diamond I had ever seen. "Susannah Cameron," she said, almost nervously, "Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?" I was stunned, speechless. I sat for what felt like an age with my mouth open and my hands on my cheeks unable to speak. I'd never expected this to happen to me. After some time, Shirlie's face began to fall, thinking I was not interested. "Don't..don't you want to?" she asked, her voice cracking. Finally, I was shaken from my shock. "Yes. Oh yes. Yes, yes, yes. Of course I do," I gushed, tears of joy starting to roll down my cheeks. "I would love to be your wife, Shirlie, nothing would make me happier," I replied, feeling as if I was going to burst with joy. She took the ring from the box and slipped it on to my finger. We both paused for a moment to admire how it sparkled on my delicate hand with coral-coloured finger nails. Shirlie took my hand and gently pulled me towards her and kissed me passionately. "So, how about I take my fianc? upstairs and we celebrate our engagement together?" she asked mischievously. Without a word, still grinning happily, I got to my feet, helped her to hers and led her to our bedroom. -O- Three months later, Aunt Margaret held my arm and walked me down the aisle to give me away. I was dressed in a flowing, floor-length ivory silk dress with a lace bodice and a front cut low enough to show my generous cleavage. My long blonde hair was plaited and wrapped around my head in an elaborate style, my make-up immaculate, my ears had pearl-drop earings and a very expensive diamond necklace sat around my slim neck. On my feet I had silk-covered ivory heels with sheer white lace-top stockings on my legs. A white satin corset accentuated my hour-glass figure. The front of my matching white sating panties was perfectly flat as I no longer had my cock and balls. The week after our engagement I had been taken into an expensive, exclusive private clinic and undergone sex reassignment surgery. My panties now held a pretty, pink pussy and later that night my new wife would be taking my virginity for a third time - something I was very much looking forward to. Shirlie wore a morning suit, cut for a woman's figure and with the coat and waistcoat carefully tailored to cover the bulge at her front where our child was growing. She smiled beautifully at me as she took my hand from Aunt Margaret and the celebrant began the ceremony. Shirlie promised to love and cherish me while I made the more old-fashioned vow to lover, honour and obey her as she held my hand and slipped a gold ring on my finger. When the celebrant pronounced us marred and gave us permission to kiss, we did so long and passionately to the applause of our many guests. Shirlie had made me the happiest girl in the world that day and we turned to smile at the crowd, Mrs and Mrs Shirlie and Susannah Bryson, ready to live happily ever after.