Presdoh The Ant and the Chrysalis
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The winding curves of Mulholland Drive make the perfect foil for my Jaguar XJ. From Topanga Canyon to the Cahuenga Pass, its scenic lanes curve through the iconic terrain of the Santa Monica Mountains. Choked with traffic, it’s a frustrating trap in the daily commute but, during a few precious weekend hours, it’s a pure joy to drive.
I felt the tires gripping the asphalt as I wove my way through the sharp turns on the Eastern side. I was approaching Hollywood at a white-knuckle pace when the sublime chords of Clapton's Slow Hand were interrupted by the discordant tones of my cell phone.
It seems an unwritten rule in life that the more a person becomes lost in the moment, the higher the likelihood of being interrupted by the ever-insistent clamoring of a phone. Scowling, I was about to flick the intruder to voicemail when the caller’s name appeared on the stereo’s hands-free readout.
Miranda Cain
I knew instantly that this would be no mere business call.
Seeing her name emblazoned on the seven-inch screen quickened my pulse and a hungry grin formed on my face. A long-time friend and part-time fuck buddy, Miranda was a woman of extreme sexual tastes. I knew an early morning call from her would likely lead to an extraordinary evening of sexual excess. Eagerly, I flicked the 'answer' button on my wheel and Miranda's husky, feminine baritone resonated cleanly through the speakers.
"Marcus, darling. How have you been? It's been months, you naughty boy. I was beginning to think you'd found another woman to practice your perversions on.”
"Hardly, Miranda. How could I ever replace you?"
"You couldn't, darling. I am one of a kind.” She purred with her usual shameless confidence.
"That you are, Miranda,” I chuckled. "So, tell me, what’s got you out of bed before noon? Don't tell me you're in between boys-toys? I would have thought the supply of young cocks you harvest from your charity was virtually inexhaustible."
"Oh, now-now, Marcus. Don't be a bitter boy. You know I don't snatch them before they’re ripe. I assure you, no matter how unusual my desires are, every young man has been deliriously happy to play along."
"I'm sure. You do have a way of discovering what buttons to push on a man."
"Oh, posh! Most young men are all too eager to have their buttons pushed. They’re so easy to play with. And people say I'm the slut. Hah!" Miranda's lilting laughter filled the car with its rich and buoyant tones.
"Oh, you are a slut, Miranda, and don't pretend to take offense. We both know it's true. So, as I can safely assume you've got some young stud painting your toenails as we speak, what can I do for you?"
"How very droll of you, Marcus, but I suppose it's deserved. I can't help it if I enjoy the virility of male youth. Anyway, that's kind of why I called. My newest friend is a special case and I think she’s ready to meet a man of your particular tastes."
"She?" I was surprised. "Since when have you been adding girls to your collection of conquests?"
"Why should that surprise you? It's not like I've never had a taste for feminine charms before. But you are right. I don't make a habit of seducing them right out of high school. I'm afraid this situation is a bit more complicated. You see, Janine used to be known as Javier."
"Excuse me?"
“Marcus, do try to keep up. You’re making me repeat myself. When I met Janine, she was an eighteen-year old-boy who came to my foundation for assistance in getting his SRS."
"Sexual reassignment? You mean you helped him… I mean her… get a sex change?"
"Very impressive, Marcus. I knew you would understand eventually. Her surgery went incredibly well and the hormone shots have been quite effective. I assure you, she is becoming a very beautiful girl. She is also deliciously submissive. I’m afraid she’s quite fond of my particular tastes in discipline."
I could hear the smirk in her voice and I almost winced at what she must be putting the poor girl through. Miranda could be a harsh and demanding Dominant, but she always managed to find lovers who appreciated her particular brand of sexual deviance. I shook my head in admiration but I still couldn't resist the urge to needle her.
"Consenting adults and all that, I suppose," I continued with deliberate indifference. "Since I can only assume she is as devoted to you like your other playmates, what could I possibly do for you?"
"Ah, to the point, as always. You never did seem to understand the value of banter."
"Miranda, I'm ten minutes from the city. I'd like to enjoy the remainder of my drive, so if you don't mind getting to the point..."
My apparent lack of interest had the desired effect and Miranda scoffed in annoyance. "Oh, very well, Marcus, have it your way. It seems Janine is unsure now of her sexuality. Not of her change, mind you, but rather in her future choice of lovers. She has expressed a need to feel what it's like to be with a skilled man. As I know you have both the inclination and the ability, I thought you'd be a perfect choice."
"I see no reason she should have to choose. Why deny herself the pleasure of both?"
"I agree, of course, but Janine still holds some rather archaic views. I'm afraid she isn't ready to accept your level of devotion to pansexuality, but then flexibility has always been one of the things that makes you so special." Miranda's laugh grew in volume; tickled, I was sure, by her obvious double entendre.
"Quite right, I suppose. Well, whether she is pre or post-op really makes little difference. Either would make a worthwhile distraction, but then it always is when you share one of your pets. I'm honored you choose me."
"Please, Marcus, such platitudes are beneath you. Just say yes and be here tonight at six. I believe you’ll be very glad you did."
**
Needless to say, her invitation rose to the top of that day’s calendar and I entered her estate's private drive precisely at six. Miranda was obsessive about punctuality and often grew unpleasant at guests who arrived early or late. It was one of several obsessions we shared.
Miranda's home was a massive, Mediterranean-style villa left to her by a long-dead and forgotten husband. It, and it's wild surrounding growth of oaks and poplars, gave visitors a feeling of being small and meek in comparison. It was an impression that befitted the owner: Miranda often had a similar effect on those in her presence.
As I was welcomed through the ornate oak doors by her housemaid, it occurred to me again that Miranda's flair for the Gothic spilled over even to her help. Cheri had long been Miranda's favorite servant and her short, dark hair and the black gloss of her lipstick and nails perfectly complimented her classic, French Maid attire.
She was a charming girl, a competent servant, and more than once she’d been offered to me during my stays. Sexuality was the cornerstone of Miranda's existence. Cheri, like anyone allowed behind the grey walls of her domain, had long ago been corrupted by her mistress’s lifestyle.
"Welcome, Master Dresden," Cheri chirped in the submissive tone used by all of Miranda's staff. "If you will follow me, the Mistress is awaiting you in the upstairs playroom."
"Really? No drinks in the parlor tonight? Miranda must be in one of her moods."
"She is anxious for your arrival, Master, but I would be happy to bring you anything you might require." The sudden reddening in Cheri's cheeks told me all I needed to know about Miranda's state of arousal.
If Miranda's games were enough to make Cheri blush, I could only imagine what she was doing upstairs with poor Janine. "How about a riding crop?" I enquired, grinning as we reached the playroom’s double doors.
Cheri's eyes glowed, a knowing smile on her darkened lips. "I believe you'll find that the Mistress has everything you might require in that regard."
Opening the door, she waved me in then silently closed it behind me.
Miranda's playroom had been converted from a lounge or library. Its large, northern facing windows never received direct sunlight, and the crimson, partially-drawn drapes created an even heavier atmosphere. The cream-colored walls merged with a rich, dark carpet and large chaise lounges and ornate padded chairs were placed strategically around the ridiculously oversized bed in the center of the room. This arrangement created a viewing circle to satisfy Miranda's notoriously famous voyeuristic tendencies.
Often she would encourage guests to indulge themselves while she and others observed and directed from the comfort of their seats. Any visit to her estate involved a gamble with one's modesty and I smiled as our games commenced again.
Miranda reclined in her favorite gold inlaid chaise, a younger woman nestled between her open thighs. Neither were undressed — not exactly — but Miranda’s knee-high leather boots and black lace lingerie would hardly qualify as evening wear in a conventional gathering.
Her thick, platinum blonde locks were tied into a neat bun on the back of her head. That, combined with stark makeup, gave her a rather severe if exotic look, creating the distinctive, semi-masculine appearance she often preferred.
The girl sitting comfortably between her knees was a true beauty. Short and petite compared to her Mistress, brown wavy hair cascaded down her back as Miranda brushed it. It was a remarkably tender moment, all things considered. I grinned, feeling Miranda had been caught in an act she probably wouldn’t want me to see.
"Miranda, what a surprise,” I said with exaggerated enthusiasm. “I would have expected you to have your pet brushing your hair, not this way around."
Caught in a less than dominant position, Miranda’s eyes briefly flashed her annoyance but her air of superiority returned as she continued to brush, clearly determined that I shouldn’t enjoy my victory. "How very careless it was of Cheri to admit you unannounced, but you may as well come in. It seems my maid has been slipping of late. Perhaps she is a bit more in need of my attention than I believed."
Her tone left no doubt of the nature that attention would take. Knowing how she tended to show her displeasure, I winced for the girl. "Don't be too harsh with her, Miranda. Perhaps she wants to be punished."
"I'm sure she does. That is all the more reason to be harsh, don't you agree?"
"Perhaps so," I surrendered, leaving Cheri to her fate.
Satisfied, Miranda's attention returned to the girl between her thighs. "Janine, where are your manners? Marcus has come especially for you. As he is your guest, don't you think you should greet him properly?"
"Yes, Mistress."
Raising effortlessly, Janine’s lithe form moved with a feline grace I found instantly appealing. Dressed in black, knee-high stockings, silk panties, and push-up bra simply screamed of her willingness to be had. Still, there was a delicious apprehension in her eyes, uncertainty arising from being given so casually to a new lover. With her gaze lowered to my feet, she glided toward me, presenting herself as if a gift, ready to accept virtually anything I desired of her.
Brushing hair off her shoulder, I caressed her cheek before passing my thumb over her lips. “She is beautiful, Miranda. I assume my hand is free with her? If she has any limits, best tell me now.”
Miranda leaned forward on her chaise, smiling with devilish delight as her black-polished nails slid up to the end of her crop. “Her safe word is ‘quit’, but I doubt very much she will use it. She won’t want to disappoint such a special friend of mine, after all.”
Standing, Miranda came close enough to stroke the back of the girl’s thighs with the crop. “You wouldn't embarrass me like that, would you, Janine?”
Damn, her voice was smoky with threat and I felt a flush run over me as Janine trembled under her Mistress’s touch. It took a special kind of sub to accept Miranda’s leash, but within Janine’s obvious trepidation, I also sensed her arousal was growing as hot as mine. Sliding a hand inside her panties, I dipped into her cunt, causing her breath to catch in her throat.
“She’s slick with juice.” I brought my glistening finger to my nose. “Is all this nothing but lube?”
Blushing, Janine remained silent, waiting for her Mistress to respond.
Miranda let the girl squirm for a moment before answering for her. “How very observant of you, Marcus. No, as it happens, she can get moist on her own, but a little lube is never a bad thing, don't you agree? Even still, I assure you she will be as tight as a virgin when you slide into her. After all, in a sense, she is a virgin once again. Isn't that right, Janine?”
“Yes, Mistress.” The reply was barely audible and Janine’s face was beet red. She might well thrive on being submissive, but having Miranda speak of her as if she wasn't there caused my hackles to rise. I glared at her Mistress.
“Imagine that," Miranda smirked while completely ignoring me, "the little slut gets to have her cherry popped. Isn’t modern medicine amazing?
“You mean her hymen is intact?”
Miranda’s eyes rolled as if I’d said something terribly foolish. “Oh, how very common of you, Marcus. I would have expected you to know it doesn’t work that way. No, she hasn’t got a hymen, but then neither do many girls the first time they take a cock. Trust me, Janine will feel all of those special little fears and insecurities men so adore to exploit.”
Miranda was in her most superior mood now and she protectively caressed Janine as if I were some Neanderthal come to ravage the poor girl. It was a masterful act, considering the rather sadistic nature of her Mastery, and I scoffed at her fake contempt.
“Right, Miranda, as if you didn’t invite me here to exploit your little slave. The idea makes you fucking drip, so please remember who you’re trying to fool.”
Miranda’s eyes blazed for an instant, then her head fell back and a powerful laugh rose from her breast. “Touché’, Marcus, well said. Indeed, that’s why you’ve been invited. So, please stop torturing the girl and show her what being fucked by the real thing actually feels like.”
I couldn’t know what Janine was expecting, but unlike Miranda, I didn’t need to make the girl squirm at the end of a crop. Certainly, I intended to stress her to the limit, but I preferred to do so with my skill as a lover rather than Miranda’s insatiable need to Dominate. Besides, Miranda would know that my kindness toward Janine was intended to needle her as well as provide a well-deserved respite for her young plaything.
Miranda's nature as a Dominant was to control everyone around her and my continued defiance was the unspoken crux of our game. The Mistress had been trying to mold me to her will for years, and our ongoing sparring perpetually plucked at her royal ego. Without doubt, mine was a habit she would never tolerate from anyone else. I was her anomaly, her weakness, and I was certain my resistance was the only reason she’d never become bored with our relationship.
With one finger I raised the girl’s chin until her gaze met mine. "I require no servitude from my lovers, Janine. I am here to please you and to draw my pleasure from you. While I’m here…” I paused, shifting my gaze to Miranda, "you don’t need to obey your Mistress. She is not in command now. What I want is for you to do what pleases you, not what you feel might please me."
It was a deliberate removal of her authority on my part and I noticed Miranda gaping. "Truly, Marcus,” she snapped, “such insolence is tiring, even from you."
Our battle of wills was in full play and I stared into the fire in Miranda’s eyes. "Did you not say I had a free hand with her?"
“Yes, of course, but..."
"Then. Sit. Down."
Scowling, Miranda returned to her chaise, gliding her fingers over her crop, clearly frustrated by my defiance.
The sharpness of the exchange caught Janine by surprise but my gentle kiss calmed her more than words could. "Don't worry about her,” I whispered. “She and I have an understanding. I am the one person in the world she can't control and she knew that before she called."
"I can hear you, Marcus. Please don't pretend I’ve left the room."
"Of course not, Miranda. Now, will you please be quiet and enjoy the show you've arranged? You’re making Janine nervous with your prattle."
Miranda scoffed but fell silent as I returned my attention to Janine.
“That’s better,” I said while taking Janine’s hand in mine. “You are a woman now and free to make up your mind on how you prefer to be touched.“
While Miranda could drive her pets mad with arousal, she was a very high energy Dom. It was the kind of affection to which Janine would have grown accustomed and I was sure she expected the same from me. Her mind was conditioned to being submissive, and that was fine. What I wanted to change was her anticipation of being used, of experiencing sex as something that happened to her, rather than being a part of it. This was the mold I wanted to break.
Keeping my tone soft, I encouraged her to meet my gaze as I feathered my fingertips over her arm. “You will find that a man’s touch can be as soft as it is firm.”
“I’ve been with men before, I mean. But, I guess this will be a little different,” she replied demurely. Janine was relaxing and returned my smile when mine answered her thoughts.
“Yes. I would think your experiences with men will change to an extent, though some things may remain the same." I slid a hand over her ass as I spoke, stroking her cheek through the gossamer fabric of her nightie. "Whatever you've done before, I can promise you’ve not been with a man like me.”
Janine nodded. “Mistress said you were different. I’m beginning to see why.”
“Only in that I pay attention to those I’m intimate with. Attention to their needs, to their desires. Being fucked is easy, Janine, but I sense in you a desire for more than that. You need to be made love to, as a woman should be, don’t you agree?”
A blush spread over her cheeks and she brought up a lace-covered hand as if to catch the laugh escaping from her lips. It was an intensely feminine act, and with it, my arousal for her began to spike. Drawing her toward me, I kissed her softy, patiently, until her lips parted, allowing my tongue to brush lightly against hers.
Janine sighed, melting into me as I drew her body against mine. Arms encircled my neck as I draped mine over her hips. When I cupped her ass more tightly, she moved closer still, inviting my knee to slip between her thighs.
Despite my considerable experience with both sexes, I’d never been with anyone who’d had a full surgical reassignment. Considering the way Janine was grinding on my thigh, I gathered she enjoyed the same sensations on her clit as a natural-born woman.
I was weaving a spell: not magical but of honest desire. Removing the fragile beauty of her dress, I took joy in revealing her femininity. Janine trembled when her breasts appeared to my view. “They are magnificent,” I whispered, cupping one of her heavy globes. Firm yet pliant, it heaved with each breath and her head lolled back as I rubbed my finger over her distended nipple.
Janine seemed to eagerly accept my touch but not as the submissive Miranda claimed her to be. Oh, she certainly let me lead, responding to my explorations with a quiet, even eager relish. This, though, was the response of many women and I felt no need in her for anything more. By the time I led her to the bed, she was clinging to me, and I raged to put my cock inside her.
That, however, would wait. Kissing down her body, I inched closer to that which science, not nature, had gifted her. As I’d noticed before, her pussy was wet with lube and dew glistened on her shaved mound. I had no idea what to expect but, happily, her sex was beautifully shaped and her labia was puffy with arousal.
Janine cupped her breasts as I put my mouth to her sex. “Ah, yes… please… that’s it. Lick me. Oh, God, that feels so nice.”
Nibbling, I teased her until her hips were rolling in my hands. She felt nothing like a man — and I've had plenty of experience to know the difference. Janine was all woman and, with intimate care, I slipped my tongue between her labia and drew it up until my wet tip slid over her clit.
"Oh, fuuuck.” The word rasped out of her, lengthening into a blissful groan while I swirled over her little nub. However such a medical miracle had been created, I was amazed at her ability to so thoroughly enjoy my intimate kiss.
To my delight, her created vagina was indisputably beautiful. From the puffy rise of her labia to the little hood covering her clit, she appeared as natural as any woman I'd known. The lube tasted slightly of honey but I also sensed her musky, natural flavor.
Using my thumbs, I parted her lips and poked my tongue between her wonderfully pink inner folds. The longer I teased her, the wetter she became and soon she was dripping.
"Can you come for me?" I whispered, hoping Miranda couldn’t hear.
Janine's eyes blazed and she nodded, still fondling her breasts as I brought her near the brink. My lips were as wet as her sex and soon her belly heaved, her thighs became taut, and she gasped, her entire body quivering while her orgasm washed over her.
It was glorious to behold and, after looking over her reclined form, I shifted my gaze to Miranda. Her air of superiority had disappeared in that private moment, and I spied her rubbing the crop over the damp center of her black silk panties. This, more than the boisterous vixen she chose to be, was the real Miranda Cain.
A wry grin rose on Miranda's lips. Apparently too aroused now to battle my will, she rang a small bell. Before the tinkling faded, Cheri appeared and obediently knelt at Miranda's feet. While the Mistress was guiding her servant’s head between her thighs, I turned my attention back to Janine.
In the afterglow of her orgasm, it seemed Janine had missed the subtle communication between myself and Miranda. Janine’s breath was calming and a sexy sheen of sweat covered her exhausted body. Kissing her stomach, I nibbled and nipped at her tender skin until I reached the rise of her breasts.
A distinct scent of sex arises from a woman after she comes, and Janine's was as heady as it was intoxicating. Mingled with her perfume, it set my senses alight with desire. Rising over her, I took a nipple into my mouth and glossed it with my tongue.
Janine sighed, writhing slowly under me and circling my neck with her arms. "Mmm, yes, Master," she cooed, "I love what you’re doing to me."
"I am no Master, Janine," I reminded. "I’m Marcus and you don’t need to call me anything else."
“Yes, I like that,” she whispered just before I crushed my lips on hers.
The kiss was hard and passionate and she held me as I eased between her thighs. Up to that moment, I’d resolved not to fuck her until I’d driven her wild with need — but things had changed. Her body was speaking to me, begging for my cock in a way I could not resist. She spread her thighs, welcoming me, and her hips bucked in a lurid invitation. I knew then that to make her wait would only add to Miranda’s sexual, teasing torture.
On my knees, I took a bottle of lube Miranda had provided and squirted along the length of my cock. “I’m not sure we even need lube, Janine, but more than anything I want you to enjoy this.”
Janine nodded, but her eyes never left my cock as I spread the lube. She was quivering and actually jerked when I slapped my cock onto her belly. Holding my rock hard erection on her, I pumped slowly, spreading the lube in a thick line on her skin.
“I’m not huge, but I am thick enough to stretch you wide. I want you to see how far inside you I’m going to reach.”
“God, Marcus, you look huge to me. Please, fuck me now. I’ve waited so long to know what a woman feels when a man is inside her.”
She was so sweet and innocent in her own way. As Miranda had said, she was a virgin in a sense and I suddenly realized how profound a moment it must be for her. For all Miranda’s bravado, she had planned this so carefully it was clear to me she understood how much Janine needed a gentle touch. She just couldn’t be the one to say so.
Rubbing my head among her folds, parting her flesh with the hot tip, I was aware of Janine holding her breath in anticipation. "Look at the Mistress," I whispered, nodding my head in Miranda's direction.
Janine turned her head — and saw Cheri passionately licking Miranda. She sucked in her breath and that left me in no doubt that she loved watching the girls.
She’s a lucky one, I thought. Not everyone is blessed to be aroused by both sexes, but Janine surely was. As she sucked on her lip, I drove my cock into her depths.
"Unghh, yes," she moaned, her attention returned to me. Her head lolled and she dug fingertips into my hips, drawing me even deeper into her. She was tight and slick and deliciously responsive as I began the slow rhythm of sex. When she hooked her legs around mine and slid her hands up my sides, I thrust harder, going balls-deep.
Her pussy felt so warm and moist, and it clung wonderfully to me as I withdrew. To my every sense, Janine was a woman and as real as any I’d ever fucked. My strokes were strong and fast and her breasts bounced in time with my rhythm. Soon, she cupped both orbs and held them still while I ravished her body.
By then, I was feeling the gradual approach of my orgasm, so I rolled off onto my back. Slowly stroking my cock, I told her to get on top and ride me.
"Let me suck it first, Marcus. I am dying to feel you in my mouth." She was a woman in heat and virtually inhaled my cock. As she worked her tongue over my cock, I knew she already had amazing skills.
Her tongue flashed over my swollen head, driving me mad with desire. I’d hoped this might give me a chance to recover, but her insistent hunger only fanned the flames of my lust. "That's enough," I gasped. "Put it back inside you."
"Oh shit, Marcus. I always wanted to try it like this." Her hand trembled on my cock and a quiver appeared in her thighs as she guided my head into her cunt. Her eyes grew wide and a smile graced her lips as she took me deeply into her sex.
“Mmm, fuck that feels so good, Marcus. I can tell I’m going to love riding your big fat cock."
With my hands on her ass, she ground me, forced my cock as far into her depths as she could manage. Her nipples were hard and her belly flexed exotically each time she rose and fell. In this position, I had better control of my orgasm and I held back as she increased speed, beads of sweat trickling between her breasts and shimmering in the light. I was about to lose it when she stopped and fell against my chest.
"Marcus, oh fuck, I'm going to come.”
Her body tensed and, holding her hips, I rolled her over and fucked her hard until she simply erupted on my cock. As her orgasm crested, I thrust one, final time, filling her pussy with my hot load of cum.
Breathless and spent, we collapsed into each other's arms. It was an amazing moment — but one spoiled all too soon by the sound of Miranda's applause.
"Oh, well done, Marcus," she gushed. "That was timed masterfully. I knew I could count on you. Now she truly is a woman."
Gazing at Janine, I chuckled and shook my head.
"I thought you better than that,” I said, turning to look at Miranda. “Do you think she is the creation of the doctors you hired? That is a shallow belief and speaks very ill of you, Miranda. Don't you see, she was a woman all along. Your doctors did nothing at all, Miranda. Nothing but reveal who God had always meant her to be.”
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