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The Unwitting Lure
by
Mardee Louise Prynne
©Mardee Louise Prynne
All rights reserved
Part 2
Honey nodded, fanned her skirt as she crossed her legs. Mrs. Drexler stared unabashedly at the boy/girl's thighs, thighs which were so light and fair in contrast to the dark welting of her stocking tops. Honey was growing ever harder as she responded to the flattering and hungry stare of the beautiful and worldly Mrs. Ruth Drexler.
"Please stand up for just a second or two," ordered Mrs. Drexler. "I need to see you from every angle."
Honey complied. A shiver went through her body. Was it a thrill at being inspected as a beautiful and desirable woman or was it the realization that Ruth Drexler was ordering her about?
A hint of a smile was evident at the corners of Mrs. Drexler's mouth as her gloved finger tips caressed the trannie's cheek. Her hand brushed over Honey's breast as she moved her attention to the almost undetectable bump in the otherwise flawless line of Honey's full skirt.
Honey took a breath as she her anticipation of becoming this woman's sex object even as she feared the precum that was already beading on her cockhead would grow into a full ejaculation and ruin her skirt.
Ruth Drexler signaled for the waitress.
"I must use the office. Honey and I have some very personal business to accomplish."
The waitress, a petite thirtyish woman, appraisingly eyed Honey from head to toe with a knowing smile. The couple followed her, waited while she unlocked a room that was part lounge, part office. Honey was not at all surprised by the nameplate on the desk: Linda Prescott.
"Miss Prescott really gets around."
"And it's most fortunate for your kind that she does. Most of you would be hustling in bars on Christopher Street and ending up dead in the river were it not for what she does for you girls. Just let me assure you that what she does is only small potatoes compared to what I can do for girls who suit me and my friends."
Honey took umbrage at the sarcastic emphasis on 'girls.' "Your kind" was offensive beyond endurance. Rather than being intimidated by these terms, Honey was energized, energized to assert herself for being her own special kind of girl. She wasn't about to let Ruth Drexler steal her self-worth even if she did make a generous offer to her.
"Sure, Ruth. She just does it out of the goodness of her heart; never makes a dime off us."
"Don't be arrogant with me. And I'm Mrs. Drexler to you. Now show me how much you respect me."
"But do I?"
Honey turned to face Ruth Drexler who now sat on the desk with her skirt at her hips. She spread her legs and drew her knees to her chest. It was quite evident that she was true female. A wet spot was spreading over her panty crotch.
Honey grasped her ankles and tipped her backwards. She kissed the wet spot on the woman's panty crotch and then worked her tongue under the fabric and over Ruth's pussy lips.
"Honey, you do that so well."
You might as well enjoy it, Mrs. Drexler. This is the last time we'll ever have sex. Well, maybe if you get lucky we'll go all the way but I'll be the one to decide when, where and how.
A whine from Ruth Drexler and then a sob as the inexperienced Honey used her instinctive skills to bring the older woman ever closer to orgasm. Ruth's fingers grasped Honey's hair as if she wanted the trannie's entire head in her vagina. A different kind of sob erupted from the woman as Honey grasped her wrists, pulled her hands aside and moved her own face way from the arrogant Mrs. Drexler's wet cunt.
"Don't play with me like this, Honey. I don't like being teased at moments like this."
"Really, Mrs. Drexler? Isn't that just too, too bad?"
"Damn you, you arrogant freak! Get me off, get me off!"
Honey looked arrogantly down at the very angry Ruth Drexler. The boy/girl's gloating was short lived as Ruth pulled free of Honey's grasp, sprang to her feet, caught Honey by her upper arms and, turning her like a steering wheel threw her to the floor. Despite Mrs. Drexler's now obvious skill in judo, her agitated state allowed Honey the chance to kick her ankles out from under her. Honey adeptly followed through on her advantage as the woman crashed to the floor landing seated on her very shapely butt. Grabbing a hand full of hair, she yanked Mrs. Drexler onto her back and then drove her knee into the woman's gut sending her breath from her.
Much to Honey's vexation, Ruth Drexler put her hand on her crotch and finished what Honey had refused to finish only a minute ago. The woman brought herself off in a screaming, exhausting orgasm. Honey saw this as another opportunity to get back at the domineering Ruth Drexler.
"That must have been so good, so really good for you. You did that so well. No doubt you get a lot of practice getting yourself off."
Honey smiled gloatingly down at her would be boss while adjusting her skirt and hoping that Ruth Drexler wouldn't notice her hard-on. Ruth Drexler, despite her intense sexual release, was distraught. Being totally humiliated by the trannie she had hired to be her personal aide and plaything had overwhelmed her. The experience of being brought to an intense climax by her own hand after being teased and bested in a fight by the girl/boy meant to be her dolly both frightened her and opened up new horizons. She was still breathless as Honey turned, paused at the door to look over her shoulder and blow a kiss to Ruth. "Good-bye, Mrs. Drexler and thanks ever so much for a pleasant lunch."
Ruth Drexler was steaming. No fledgling trannie was going to walk out on her. There was more than her pride at stake; her very unique reputation might suffer and that she could not allow. She picked up the phone and dialed.
Honey stopped in a specialty shop on twenty-third street. Her triumph over the formidable Ruth Drexler deserved some sort of tangible reward. Her school girl innocent look needed to be augmented to reflect the power she felt now that she had physically and emotionally bested her would be employer. The trannie's confidence soared as the sales girl asked if she could assist her. "I hope you don't mind if I just lay some of the things you need on the counter for you to select from. We're just so busy today what with it being Saturday and two part time girls calling in sick."
The boy/girl slipped her smooth hand with its elegantly manicured nails into the off black stocking and studied the sheerness and color. She then turned her attention to the plastic case filled with a garment the sales girl had suggested might be more comfortable than a panty girdle. "Just so much more practical, too, in those special situations," she added.
It was called a garter girdle in those elegant and romantic days of the mid-twentieth century. A hybrid, really of garter belt and a much abbreviated girdle. Black was her first choice for the first one. Next was powder blue; so innocent in color yet so commandingly seductive. Honey smiled as she narcissistically envisioned herself in the empowering garment. She knew the foundation garment, as such things were called back in those supposedly repressed years, would serve not only as a foundation for her tasteful and chaste clothing but as the foundation of the power she was discovering she could so readily wield.
It was as if the sales girl read her mind when she asked "Would you like some assistance in trying those on for size? I can help you in a bit. The shop will clear out soon."
She left the bewildered trannie tentatively rummaging through the unfamiliar and formidably sexy foundations.
"Those really do make a great effect even if no one gets to see them but you. I just love the feeling I get when I wear pretty things under my clothes."
Honey turned to look at the young woman who spoke.
"Sorry if I startled you. Don't think I'm being pushy but it's just that you seem so unfamiliar with the nuances of lingerie and foundations. No need to feel uncomfortable. We've all had to make he transition from little girl undies to big lady clothes and too often with no support and guidance from family. Maybe I can ease your way."
The boy/girl gave this woman an embarrassed smile. The woman was in her late twenties, thirty at the oldest. She was dressed in a dark gray full skirt which, with a wide belt, emphasized the smallness of her waist. A matching bolero jacket over a light blue blouse completed the look. Moderately heeled suede opera pumps enhanced her trim legs.
Honey nodded confidently as the woman stood with the black garter girdle dangling from her finger tips as she held open the curtain leading to the dressing area.
"No need to remove your skirt, Miss…"
"Please call me Honey." She spoke with a sense relief although she had, only a moment before, no compunction about the curvaceous bulge in her panties being seen by this rather attractive and sophisticated woman.
"Of course, Honey. I'm Frankie."
Honey stood on a low platform and raised her skirt.
"Ordinarily you would wear your panties over this but for now we'll slip this over your panties…Oh, it makes it easier to use the toilet." It was as if she had anticipated the question, as if she completely understood just how naive Honey was to the intricacies of adult female underthings.
Of course she does. I just wonder if she knows why. God, what happens if she figures me out?
"Relax, Honey. We all go through this learning period." There was a cheerful matter of fact quality about Frankie's manner of speaking. Maybe it was a hardness made tolerable by the woman's good cheer. In either case Honey felt an inexplicable kinship with this seemingly worldly wise, classy and classic New York girl.
Honey raised the front of her skirt to her thighs as she stepped into the garter girdle that Frankie held at her feet. She drew the elastic and lace over her thighs.
"Your legs," breathed Frankie. "Just so smoothly powerful. If you don't dance, you should. What a waste of power if you don't." She slowly ran her hand over Honey's calf.
"You really should try these with stockings to get the full effect the full sense of how these would feel."
Frankie stepped away momentarily only to place a padded stool on the fitting platform. She handed Honey a new stocking, took its mate in her own hand and rolled it. Honey sat, extended her leg toward Frankie who caressed her arch, kissed her toes before slipping the rolled stocking onto the boy/girl's foot. Honey reached forward, placed her hands over Frankie's as they both slid the tinted gossamer over Honey's solid yet graceful leg.
"Stand up, please. Now fasten the garter. Good. No use your finger tips to smooth the stocking upward. Yes. Adjust the garter clasp…Now redo the snap. Very well done! Now let's do the other."
A repeat performance but with ever so much more confidence and fluidity on the part of Honey.
Frankie wrapped her arms around Honey's legs as she kissed the trannie's thighs. Her hand found its way to Honey's firm tush. Then her face followed and soon her tongue pressing between Honey's panty covered cheeks. Now she was stand behind Honey nuzzling her neck as her hands eased Honeys skirt ever higher. Her own skirt fell to the floor as she pressed her groin against the girl/boy's bottom.
The pressure she felt against her bottom explained the kinship she felt with Frankie. Only a hard cock could exert the exciting pressure that was arousing Honey in ways she had never known could be.
She pulled Frankie's hands to her balls as she eased he dick out of her panties. She moaned as Frankie's hand enveloped her hard prick as her other hand grasped her balls. Honey reached back, desperately clutched Frankie's hard-on as she eased her own panties lower, and pressed Frankie's cockhead against her own virgin holed. To Honey's dismay, Frankie pusher hand away and turned Honey so they faced each other.
Tears began to trickle down Honey's cheeks. "Don't you want me? Am I really such a failure as a girl? I must be so ugly!" She began to cry in earnest.
"No, no. You're not ugly at all. And you're so perfect as a girl. But don't give up your virginity on an impulse. As much as I want to fuck you right now, I can't. It would be so, so wrong. Maybe if I were less attracted to you, I could fuck you, use you and forget you. But I just can't. You're too good to use like that and throw away. We don't even know each other but I know you're special and wonderful. I just know it. But promise me you won't ever think for an instant that I don't want you. You deserve better than to give up your virginity in a quickie in the back of a store. We might think about meeting and get to know each other and be friends. You'll find somebody who'll love you for everything you are and it will be meaningful and lasting."
Frankie kissed way Honey's tears as she reassured the boy/girl. Honey looked into Frankie's eyes, nodded and smiled. They kissed as they sank to the floor.
They reentered the shop. Much to their chagrin several customers were being waited on, customers unlike Honey. The pair nodded and winked to each other. Then it was all business.
"That will be it for today," she said as she handed her purchases to the sales girl who seemed to recognize Frankie as a regular. Honey was surprised to hear the slaes girl address Frankie as "Dr. Levine."
"And thank you for the opportunity to serve you. Do come see us again. I'm certain we can take of more of your needs."
The pair paused briefly in front of the shop. Honey was about to thank Frankie for all her help as she tried to get up the gumption to offer the older woman her phone number. She considered giving her Hal's home phone number but decided against lest she have some explaining to do if her mother picked up the phone and someone asked for Honey. She opted in favor of giving her Roni's number and explaining that she lived with her sister. Frankie spoke up before Honey could make the offer.
"May I give you my card? ...Just let me put my home phone number on the bottom...in case you might need some advice and guidance from an older gal who has been around, around and kicked around. That way you can get hold of me if I'm not available in my office."
"I'll surely available myself of your kind offer when the something comes up."
"No need to wait for a crisis. Just call me when you feel like chatting, chatting with someone who can understand you without judging you."
It was Hal who greeted Roni when she returned from work.
"Getting ready to go back to Mommy?"
"Yeah, I hate to. Had a great day…"
Hal started to tell Roni of Honey's experience with Ruth Drexler only to be interrupted by Roni.
"Sweetie, do you realize you're talking about Honey in the third person. It's as if she's another person but she really is you."
An embarrassed smile formed on Hal's face as he realized Roni was right. He and Honey were really one person with Honey rapidly becoming the more natural persona, a persona striving to be present at all times.
"I know what happened today. That Drexler witch called Linda Prescott. Get that worried look off your face. She'll pay you a fortune to be with her on any terms you set. That weirdo wants you to humiliate her and make love to her. It was a new experience for her and she's hooked but it has to be you. Honey, you're in the catbird seat.
"There are few things, though, that Linda Prescott must talk to you about. Why not phone her right now."
Honey hung up the phone a few minutes later.
"Miss Prescott said I'll be starting as a receptionist this coming Saturday. Meanwhile Ruth Drexler is frantically trying to see me. But something happened today that tells me that just isn't in the cards.
"I met this girl; a girl like me in a specialty shop where she works and she treated me like something to be valued…"
When Honey finished relating her adventures of the day, Roni's eyes lit up.
"Wow, what an afternoon you had. I'm just surprised you could keep on getting it up after all your, your exertions. A bit of sisterly advice, Honey. You really don't seem too turned off by what Ruth Drexler wants from you. Secondly, she can help you in ways that are beyond what her money can get you. She and her husband wield all sorts of influence. They can open doors for you, keep you safe from all kinds of dangerous people. Don't be too quick to brush her off. Think about what I'm telling you."
Hal was barely able to concentrate on his studies during the next week at school. He was surprised to find he was more empathic toward Carole although he didn't yet realize it was that something extra in her panties that kept him coming back for more.
Carole approached him as he sat in the public library one afternoon.
"Hal, may I join you?"
"Sure Carole."
She sat opposite him and clasped her hands on the edge of the table as their eyes met. She took a deep breath, lowered her gaze so they no longer were making eye contact and spoke softly, hesitantly.
"I'm scared, Hal. I'm afraid we might be in trouble and it's my entire fault. It's Jo-Jo, Jo-Jo and her aunt. I knew Jo-Jo years ago. We were in a summer camp program before we started high school. Promise me you won't get angry, that you won't hate me when I tell you."
Hal nodded as he watched Carole fight back her tears.
"It was a camp for a certain kind of girl. I belonged there because I'm not what I seem to be. I'm not like other girls and neither is Jo-Jo…"
Hal reached across the table and took Carole's hand as she continued her confession.
"You're still you no matter what. You're still the girl I care so much about. You're going to be surprised when I tell you how I've been spending my weekends. You were on to something about me when you and Jo-Jo got me wearing panties. We'll talk about that later. Now tell me why you think we're in trouble."
"Honey, I know this is so hard to believe but we were being set up. Jo-Jo has this aunt or something who's really nothing but a self-promoting madam. Oh, sure. She pretends to be some something better, something classy but no. She operates mostly in England and Europe supplying trans-girls as sex partners to well off men and to women, too. Someone wanted a fresh new boy who could pass as a girl and for some reason she picked you as one of her talents. Jo-Jo made believe she was in love with me so I would help her procure you. Don't look at me like that. Yes, procure is the right word. Procure like a damned madam. I was being used and I didn't know it until they wanted to make me one of their whores. It was then I realized what was happening. Jo-Jo's disappeared and I'm pretty sure she's been sent away or somehow gotten rid of permanently. Hal, I'm sacred we're next."
"Listen to me. I want you to walk home but stay on crowded streets even though it's a longer walk. Stay away from the curb."
Carole nodded as she started wringing her hands.
"Once you get home you stay put until I phone you."
As they exited the building Hal held Carole back for a few seconds while he scanned the cars parked along the street.
"Let's get going."
Carole nodded as she whispered, "I love you. I know it now. I just hope it's not too late."
As soon as Hal entered his house, his demeanor changed as he again became
Honey. It wasn't that he donned any articles of female attire. It was simply
a change in posture, in demeanor, and above all, in attitude. After all,
Honey was always more self assured than Hal ever was, and self-assurance, if
ever it was needed, was needed at that moment.
"Frankie, Honey here. I'm just so terribly sorry to disturb you but I need your help if that offer you made still holds…"
"Of course it still holds. Now take a deep breath and tell me the whole story from the beginning…"
Honey explained. Frankie interrupted soon as Jo-Jo Di Cadore was mentioned.
"Honey, you be careful. There's a group out there that would do anything to get a girl like you under their control. Listen to me. Put on panties and a bra, some light makeup but wear slacks and a blouse. No wig, no fall. Don't bother packing. Take some makeup and toiletries and a change of panties. Take a cab up here. It's on me. I'll be waiting for you."
Honey dressed according to Frankie's instructions. She was surprised at how little it took to accomplish a very effective physical transformation into an eye-catching young girl. She was more than pleased with the effect, an effect so pleasing, so self-satisfying that she knew, despite the situation she and Carole were in, that it would add to her difficulty in going back to being Hal.
Honey was relieved to see Frankie waiting for her in front of the brownstone in Chelsea. The woman was smartly but casually dressed in slacks, a jacket, and a flat, brimmed straw hat reminiscent of what an English school girl might wear with her spring uniform. As she emerged from the taxi, Honey wondered if she might have been mistaken about having felt a cock pressing against her bottom when Frankie snuggled her as she modeled foundations. It just couldn't be; her lines were just flawlessly female in the tailored, well fitted slacks.
As Frankie paid the driver adding a generous tip, a tip that implied silence as to his passenger and her destination, Honey noticed a two or three brass plaques listing professionals who had offices in the building. She felt reassured that she was in capable hands when she noticed that one proclaimed "Frances Levine, Ph. D, Psychotherapist."
They hurried into the building and up the stairs to Frankie's apartment.
Honey felt like a gawking tourist entering a foreign country as Frankie led her into the apartment. There was a small foyer through which one entered center hall. A narrow spiral staircase within the apartment, obviously a later addition to the building, led to the upper floor of the apartment. Frankie led the way to a small study, offered the trannie a seat in easy chair.
"I'm just leaving you for a minute or two. Would you feel safer if you came with me? Your facial expression is answering for you so don't try to be a heroine. Come on."
They were in a comfortable kitchen where Frankie took a bottle of wine from a rack, deftly opened it and grabbed two wine glasses. "St. Emillion, a Bordeaux. Quite good. Just sip it, especially if you're not used to big wines."
As they walked back to the study, Honey noticed several diplomas and certificates on the wall. All were in the name of Frances Levine, Frances with an 'e' except for an undergraduate diploma from Harvard. That was in the name of Francis Levine; Francis with an 'i.' Honey was certain that her new friend was a girl like herself and like Carole, but who had developed a respected career rather than allowing herself to be exploited, even prostituted by the likes of Jo-Jo and her aunt. If this is what a boy/girl can become then even what Linda Prescott had to offer was a kind of exploitation although she offered many trannies the chance at something like an independent life.
She sat as Frankie poured some wine into her own glass and then filled Honey's glass half way before doing the same to her own glass. She stiffened when Frankie took a pad and pencil from her drawer.
"Relax, girl. I'm not going to treat you as a case study. I just want to note down any names you mention that are familiar to me. Now tell me the whole story from the first day of school onward."
Honey felt unburdened as she finished telling her story to Frankie. She stared at Frankie's bottom as the trans-woman bent forward to open a drawer. The boy/girl was pleased to find that the outline of panties through a woman's clothing was still so fascinating even though she herself would be wearing panties almost constantly.
"This may not be as difficult as I thought it was going to be. You have two potential allies. I know Ruth Drexler quite well. Linda Prescott is someone else who will listen to me. But first let me get Ruth over here."
Honey was dumbfounded and not a little intimidated by the thought that the formidable Ruth Drexler was being summoned to aid the trannie who had so strongly rebuffed her only days before.
"You see, Honey, when Ruth Drexler cares about someone she'll unselfishly do anything to help her. And, sweetie, does she ever have influence with some very powerful people!"
Honey wondered if her reaction to Ruth Drexler as someone to be feared, someone not to be trusted, was her own naïve misinterpretation.
Frankie's next call was to someone who was something important in the police department. Honey was more and more impressed by Frankie's network of friends. To her chagrin, Frankie waived her out of earshot as she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone.
Ruth Drexler was not long in getting to Frankie's. She seated herself so
as to offer Honey a generous view of her thighs and even an occasional
glimpse of her shimmering white panty crotch as she
shifted in her chair every so often, rearranging her skirt each time she
did.
"Of course, I know that Cadore witch. That presumptuous bitch offered to
sell me some of her so-called merchandise. Imported from Britain she said,
as if those pretty creatures were chattel to be imported and sold. Well,
when I refused her, she lowered her price until those poor kids were free
samples. I shudder to think what she would have wanted had I fallen prey to
her.
"No doubt she has compromising photos or affidavits on some of her
well-placed customers. She'll try blackmailing them into protecting her.
Give it some time. The witch will feel less threatened and we'll think of a
way to put her out of business.
"But more to the immediate point; are you okay, Honey? And what about
your school chum Carole?"
Honey felt relieved by the generous concern that Ruth was showing to her.
"Honey, why don't you change and we three will go out for dinner? We do
need a diversion," suggested Ruth.
"That's awfully nice of you to offer, Mrs. Drexler, but I really think I
need to touch base with Carole. I just couldn't eat a drop if I didn't know
she's safe. And besides, Mrs. Drexler, I look a fright and I didn't bring
any thing to change into."
"Honey, why don't you call and then we can pick something from my closet
that you can fit into."
"Gee, thanks. That'll be swell."
Honey's air of confidence faded visibly as Carole's phone continued to
ring.
"She may be in the shower or something. I'll try again in a few minutes."
Her face brightened as the second call was answered. It was Carole's mom.
"Oh, okay. Thanks. Bye."
A pale Honey slowly hung up the phone.
"I can't believe that twit. Her mom said she saw Carole getting into a
car and driving off with someone. What's even worse she said it looked like
Jo-Jo's car."
As if on cue, Ruth Drexler glanced at her watch. "I must dash."
Honey reluctantly stripped as Frankie adjusted the guest room shower. The
trannie was self-conscious enough to cross hiss legs so as to conceal his
genitals as she sat on the edge of the bed. Frankie smiled warmly as she
handed her a towel.
"This will protect your modesty." Her voice had a lilt that managed to
relax and reassure Honey with her cheek against her hand as her elbow rested
on her knee.
Again Honey felt that stirring in her groin, a stirring that flowed into
her cock. She felt guilty at experiencing something so pleasant while Carole
might be in grave danger and yet she could not escape the sensation of
gentle arousal that Frankie was generating in her.
"Get in the shower, relax, shampoo your hair and then call me. We'll pick
out some things for you to wear.
"Oh, Honey sweetie. I know you're worried about Carole but I assure she
is going to be safe. You'll see soon enough."
Honey emerged from the shower and wrapped herself in an oversized terry
towel that Frankie had laid out for her. She vigorously rubbed her shortish
hair with a smaller towel before wrapping another towel, turban style around
her damp hair. Voices reached into the guest room from down the hall.
Frankie was chatting with a man.
Honey wrapped a towel around her body and tucked it in under her arms so
that it remained in place covering her body but not quite concealing her
slender but sexy form. That she was covered in pink terry cloth toweling
from her breasts to mid thigh did nothing to detract from the sexiness she
exuded.
The voices paused and then she heard Frankie speak.
"Shower's been stopped for a few minutes now. I think I better go check
on my guest. Excuse me for a bit."
Honey shifted her weight from leg to leg and blushed as Frankie
complimented her.
"My lord! You have such a great complexion and such great hair. You truly
are the wholesome all American girl type."
"Except for one thing," said Honey as she felt her face grow warmer as
she blushed even more deeply.
"You'll be surprised when you learn how many girls like you are living
everyday as independent women."
This did nothing to lessen Honey's agitation.
"Honey, you're not deaf so you do know that there's someone else in the
apartment, an ally so relax. You two will meet as soon as you're dressed."
Honey stepped into the sky blue panties Frankie handed to her. She
glanced over her shoulder and smiled at her own reflection. She hooked her
thumbs under the leg bands of her panties and pulled them down over her
tush.
"You're just such a natural." Frankie's soothing tone confirmed Honey's
improved estimation of her own talent for being a girl.
Frankie eyed Honey as the young girl dressed. It seemed to honey that
Frankie's face was showing more than approval. Was that lust lurking behind
Frankie's eyes?
The white panty girdle was opaque but not so opaque as to obscure the
outline of the panties. She turned up the cuffs of the mid thigh girdle so
as to give her access to the garter snaps attached to it. She reveled in
putting on her stockings, smoothing them over her shapely limbs, fastening
the tabs, and adjusting the tension of the garters. Honey wondered if that
soupcon of power and self arousal she so enjoyed would dissipate with time.
She had faith it would not.
She donned the bra which was padded enough so she needed no pads. A soft
moan escaped her lips despite her efforts to contain herself as Frankie
adjusted her breasts in the cups of the firmly padded bra.
Frankie smiled and slowly turned Honey so the newly created trans-girl
could reassure herself that she was totally femme from every angle.
Frankie lowered the one piece dress over her Honey's head as the boy/girl
raised her arms and slipped them into the sleeves.
Just a touch of lipstick and eye liner was all she needed to complete the
transformation. Earrings, a ring, a watch and cloisonné bangle bracelet were
jewelry enough. Modest heels and she was ready to meet the so called ally.
"Just relax with him and be yourself, your femme self. He fully
understands that there are many girls like you and that you're often
exploited and worse. His need is to protect you as he protects all honest
citizens. You'll understand later."
The man got up as Honey entered the room. She had expected a policeman of
some sort but this man was dressed in civilian clothes. Frankie introduced
him as Lou Ravsky but omitted any rank or title connected to whatever he had
to do with law enforcement.
Small talk was kept to a minimum.
"What about Carole? Aren't you going to do anything to rescue her?"
"Honey, she doesn't need rescuing."
"But what about Jo-Jo and Miss Cadore?"
"There's no need to fear them. It's Ruth Drexler who's the threat. Jo-Jo
picked Carole up to get her to safety. If we did that, we would have alerted
Ruth Drexler just how much we know about her. If she thought any of you had
a hand in getting her nailed, she would have done everything to get back at
you before we got her."
As Honey was trying to piece together the scenario, Frankie went to
answer a knock at the door. She soon ushered in Carole, Jo-Jo, and Miss
Cadore.
Lou nodded at Miss Cadore who smiled and greeted Lou in Italian. She
handed Lou some file folders.
"Brava! Grazia," he said warmly.
"I don't get it," said Honey in a tone that demanded an immediate
explanation.
"Take a look at these." Lou took some folders from his briefcase and
opened them on the coffee table. He passed what looked like a passport to
Honey. She shivered when she saw the Nazi swastika and eagle emblem on the
cover. The boy/girl turned ashen as she recognized the photo of a uniformed
woman inside. It was unmistakably Ruth Drexler.
Photos of Ruth Drexler and Dr. Mengele (a Nazi scientist known for his
bizarre experiments on concentration camp inmates) sent chills of fear down
Honey's spine.
Next she saw photos of Miss Cadore posing with partisan resistant groups
and their Nazi prisoners! It was evident that Jo-Jo's aunt had been a
resistance fighter.
"I see you're puzzled and more than a little upset. You can relax. Roni
getting you to dress had nothing to do with Ruth Drexler. Your sister knows
you pretty well, perhaps better than you know yourself. She thought you
would be a lot happier being a girl even just part time. This isn't an
official police operation. It's something we had to do for a lot of good
reasons. Honey, you were part of it without even knowing. We used you to
tempt Ruth Drexler into betraying herself. Until she made her move on you,
we couldn't be positive that this was the woman involved in those terrible
experiments. Honey, you became our reluctant agent."
Honey looked around the room as a sheepish smile appeared on her face.
"Ruth Drexler saw you as a two way opportunity. First of all she could
get off on seducing you into becoming a sex toy and second, as soon as you
bored her, she could sell you to some whore master in an exotic country
where the rich can buy or rent whatever they want to use as they please.
We've been trying to get some concrete evidence on her for a couple of years
now. We couldn't prove the connection to the Nazi regime until Gianna, Miss
Cadore hooked up with us. What she didn't have in her own archives, Jo-Jo
filched from the Drexler's own files.
"Carole knew nothing about using you to lure Ruth Drexler into confirming
her past. Jo-Jo realized that, once you were dressed you would be a type
irresistible to her.
We had to keep you in the dark since you had to play the flawless
innocent or she might not have wanted you badly enough to betray herself.
You had to be the unwitting lure."
The unmarked car pulled up in front the Drexler's townhouse. Police
cruisers stopped at each end of the street and on the next street.
Ruth Drexler chanced to glance out a second story window just as the
detectives emerged from the car. The two men and one woman started up the
front steps.
She bent over her husband who was reading and kissed him.
"I'm leaving now. Don't wait up for me."
She went to her bedroom, sat at her vanity, took a vial from a drawer and
drank the contents. She was dead when the police found her.
Honey chatted nervously with the young police officer who was driving her
to Roni's apartment.
"You know you don't have to keep making excuses for why you dress. There
an awful lot of cops who would beat you up but I'm not one of them. Live and
let live says I as long as no one's getting hurt. Sure, a piece of trash
like Drexler comes along and ruins it for nice girls like you and your pal
Carole. I guess it must be tough figuring out how far and how much you want
to go with this girl stuff."
At that moment the cruiser stopped for a light. Honey smiled and had to
keep from giggling as she realized the young cop was trying to prolong their
time together.
"Sweetie," she breathed into his ear. "There's no problem figuring out
how far I want to go with this girl stuff as you call it. With someone like
you, I'm willing to go all the way!"
"My sister's away for the weekend and I just feel so nervous after
tonight…Say, I might feel better of you could stay with me. I mean just for
a little bit."
"I'm off duty as soon I turn in the car and change into civies. Care to
come with me? By the way, you can call me Will."
"That'll be swell."
Honey moved closer to him and rested her hand on his lap.
Half an hour later they were walking away from the precinct house.
A short cab ride and they were seated at a corner table in a cabaret not
far from Roni and Honey's apartment. Frankie was seated at the bar with
another woman.
"Well, hello you two, hmm, lovebirds I would guess." Frankie's greeting
was both warm and playful.
Honey blushed as she felt Will's hand press her thigh.
"Honey, phone me Monday morning. With your and your mother's approval I'm
going to arrange an interview for you at a junior college that will allow
you to be whatever you need to be even if that includes shifting your
persona from time to time.
"I know it would be disloyal to Linda Prescott but you really don't owe
her anything. I'd like you to come to work as my part time
secretary/receptionist."
"Frankie, that's so awfully generous of you. I don't mean to sound
ungrateful but I really have to give it some thought. Working for you would
be super but I'm not quite sure about the school. They might mold me into
something that isn't me. I just have to be my own man, er woman for now, at
least until I find out more about who I really am."
Honey tasted her first Manhattan and decided she liked the sweet, strong
cocktail.
She relaxed and listened to the pianist whose long slit skirt showed her
superb legs as she worked the pedals. The woman began to sing to her own
accompaniment. Her voice was rich, deep and soothing. It was as if the best
of qualities of male and female voices blended in this oddly attractive
cabaret; oddly attractive because she had the attention of both women and
men. .
"Her voice fascinates me. She's so beautiful and so talented. Why isn't
she famous?"
"Honey, she plays here all the time because most of the country isn't
ready for celebrities that are the kind of girl you are."
She smiled at Will as she realized she now had a male admirer.
Honey unlocked the door and stepped inside. Will drew her to him. She
gently pushed him away.
"I can understand why you don't want to kiss me since we just met but I
hope you give me your phone number so we can have a real first date."
"Will, why are you being so obtuse?"
Honey spoke with mock scolding as she pulled Will into the apartment and
closed the door.
She put her arms around his neck and lifted her face to his.
"You big dope, do you think I want the neighbors to see what I'm about to
do to you? Not that I care but my sister will be totally pissed off if I get
her thrown out of this building."
She undid his belt as she spoke. His pants fell to his ankles as Honey
unbuttoned his shirt. She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him to
his knees. To her surprise, Will needed no encouragement. His face fell in
frustration as he discovered Honey's long leg panty girdle.
"You'll just have to do the best you can." She smiled teasingly as she
joined him on the floor.
Her tongue explored his body as she finished undressing him. He returned
the compliment but left her bra in place. Honey knelt over him and ran her
moist finger tips around the head of his very rampant cock. Her lips closed
over Will's cockhead as she teased the sensitive skin behind his balls.
Will rolled her onto her tummy and ground his painfully hard cock against
her girdled tush. She reached behind and rhythmically squeezed his balls as
he moaned uncontrollably. In a very few minutes Will came in a loud and
uninhibited orgasm.
He lay on his back as Honey looked into his face.
"Will, love, that was great for you but I still have to get off."
She moved between his legs as she wiggled her panty girdle down below her
hips. Will brushed his tongue repeatedly over her cock until it was
dripping, dripping with Will's saliva and with her own precum. He lay back,
spread his legs and raised his knees to his chest as Honey pressed her dick
against his hole. A gentle thrust and she was inside his twitching,
squirming bottom.
To her surprise and delight, Will was enjoying as much as she was and by
his expert cooperation made it know he was experienced in this very special
kind of love making.
Suddenly she pressed her open mouth over Will's and thrust her tongue
deep into his throat as she drove deeper into his bottom.
The phone rang as they lay in the after glow of their very loud mutual
orgasm.
Honey covered the mouthpiece as she laughingly told Will it was the old
prude downstairs threatening to call the police if they did stop thrashing
around on the floor and stop making those animal sounds. Will responded by
raising his middle finger.
"Oh, fuck the police," was Honey's reply as she hung up the phone.
"Sure about that?" said Will as they fell into each other's arms.
MARDEE LOUISE PRYNNE
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