tagTranssexuals & CrossdressersA Fishing Trip, But I'm The Bait Ch. 03

A Fishing Trip, But I'm The Bait Ch. 03

bystickygirl©

In the first two chapters Paul offered me the chance to be his girl and becoming Jane seemed the most natural thing in the world to me, but I didn't realise how bumpy the road to love, and lust, could be.



Paul left my head was spinning: I was upset that my stupidity denied him the chance to fuck me, but I felt so overwhelmed by his attention that I was full of excited butterflies. I thought about my sisters and how the two of them used to giggle so knowingly to each other, when they were talking about their boyfriends. I was jealous of their happiness then, but understood it now. My mother had teased me that I would soon be bringing girlfriends to the house, but the idea alarmed me. She might just as well have said she expected nothing but straight A grades at school. I could get the grades if I worked hard, but no amount of hard work would find me a girlfriend when my heart wasn't in it.

Many of my early fantasies sprang from what I learnt from my sisters and that led me to secretly explore their rooms, where their soft clothes, their perfumes, skin lotions and sparkly jewellery fascinated me. I had felt guilty having to sneak into their rooms and knew what was expected of me as the 'man of the house' ( my father had walked out when I was very young ). But Paul made everything fall into place because, with him, I could be the girl that I knew was inside me and the liberation was intoxicating.

I found myself looking again at my reflection in the old mirror that leant on the wall of this musty old building. I squatted down and examined the young schoolgirl with her short blond hair and blouse still hanging open. My penis and balls had dropped between my thighs so I lifted my short skirt to examine my hairless crotch, unencumbered by their intrusion: this was the girl I wanted to be. I remembered my knickers, which Paul had pushed inside me when he discovered he couldn't fuck me.

'Girls have to do things like this too', I thought as I pushed a finger inside my puckered ring and teased a corner out. Feeling slightly disgusted I pulled the knickers out, shuddering from the sensations the fabric made on my sensitive skin.

'There - not so bad,' I mused. 'Men make such a fuss about these things!'

Nevertheless, I was determined that Paul would never have reason to be disappointed by my body again.

I remembered too about the plastic bulbs that he had given me to help grow my nipples. They must have fallen off with our lovemaking and I was relieved they weren't lost when I found them in the folds of my singlet. I licked the mouth of the devices and re-applied them to my nipples, squeezing out all the air so their vacuum pulled hard on the skin. They pinched: pulling on the pinkish flesh and sending a tremble down into my tummy. Better still, when I pulled my blouse closed they gave the impression of budding breasts and my reflection was looking like a hot adolescent that needed sex.

"Do you need to come, Jane?" I asked the mirror. The reflection nodded in reply and I made my way over to the sofa, with my girl-cock springing up to make a tent of my skirt. I hitched up the hem and let my bare bottom down onto the dirty old cushion. I had moved the mirror and now I could see the girl from the seat. She lifted her feet onto the edge of the cushion and let her legs hang open, because this is how she liked to be fucked. She slid her bottom down the seat to expose her smooth inner thighs and ran her hands down them, letting them graze over her pussy. She licked a finger and drew little circles around her opening, exploring how tightly the little ring of muscles gripped the tip. Jane's eyes saw nothing else but the probing finger as it slowly buried itself to the knuckle and was oblivious to the other hand that pumped at her girly prick. With more spit she increased the speed of her dipping finger, her knees fell a little further open: just how they would if her man was fucking her. Both hands were now in time, deliberate and fierce, forcing little gasps to escape her mouth. She began to buck her hips as her racing finger sent off little shocks deep inside.

"Fuck me. Fuck me, Paul," she mouthed silently and let her eyes close as she rested her head back onto the seat. She was impatient for her climax, its wave barely rippling over her body, making her little penis squirt a streak of white over her chest, a small droplet splashed her chin but the rest ran thinly over her fingers and over her tummy. The moment was brief and she felt cheated that her orgasm had been so ordinary and annoyed by the mess she had made of her blouse. She slowly withdrew her finger from her pussy and glanced at the mirror. The girl stared back, looking very small in the room, surrounded by the abandoned rubble and leaky roof.

It was time to leave Jane here and go home.

I put the dirty clothes into my bag and pulled my boy clothes back on. As I made my way back to my motorbike I spotted a scrap of paper poking out from the gatepost. Paul had left a message and with a smile I unfolded it to see he had simply put a list of days of the week. I took a pen from my pocket and circled the Tuesday, knowing that I had that whole day free and put a X beside it before tucking it back for him to find.





I had plenty to keep me busy before Tuesday: I had found some part time work but better still, my sister Laura was back from Uni, so some nights out with our old school friends were guaranteed. Since our eldest sister, Steph, had moved in with her boyfriend, Laura and I spent more time together and she lost none bringing me up to date with her news, which seemed to be entirely about wild parties with people I didn't know. I was lying on her bed as she sat at her dresser toying with her make up. After a long description about yet another 4am garage gig she turned to me.

"You're pretty quiet, kiddo. Mum tells me you've taken up fishing, but there must be more to it than that. Is that just an excuse to go and see some babe behind her back? Come on, dish some dirt: are you seeing anyone? Is my little bro getting laid?"

Laura had an uncanny knack of hitting way too close to the mark at times and I sometimes wondered if she had spies working for her. Her teasing almost caught me off guard. She must have seen something in my face and like a dog on a scent came in for the kill.

"You are, aren't you? Don't try and deny it - you've got that innocent look on your face," she was giggling as she said it, going straight for my ribs and making me roll away from her tickling hands.

"I'm not, I'm not," I objected through my gulps of laughter. This was just how we used to play when we were children, before she began to find older boys more interesting than her kid brother. She wetted the end of her finger and pushed it into my ear, which she knew I hated. Irritated, I jumped to my feet.

"Laura! Stop making things up. I just go fishing, that's it. You wouldn't be interested, it's not girl stuff."

"Oh nice, John. Very mature of you: 'not girl stuff'," she called after me as I slammed her bedroom door behind me.

'Fucking girls' I muttered to myself as I went back to my room, my skin flushed hot with anger I recalled the many times she had humiliated me in the past. I sat leaning against my bed, still prickling with indignation, when there was a tap at my door. Laura put her head round the door.

"Pax?" she asked tentatively and I shrugged in reply as she took a step into the room.

"Hey, I'm sorry: sorry if I hit a nerve there. Ish jus' ur big sishta givin' u greef," she finished in a mimic of some comedian.

"No worries seeeeshta," I replied, in keeping with her style. Forgiven, she smiled and turned to go. I caught her just as she was pulling the door closed.

"Laura?" I called, making her stop and look back in. I already had my tongue poking out at her. "Got ya!"

"Love you too, bro'," she laughed and closed the door.

Lying in my bed at night I was free with my fantasies and now had my 'toys' to help me realise them: my training candle helped ensure that when Paul finally took me, my pussy would be just right for him. My nipples were already becoming puffy and much more sensitive from the treatment they received. I tried to buy some lubricating gel from a pharmacy, but was too scared to actually pick it off the shelf: I knew I would blush scarlet at the check-out and my effeminate looks would give everything away so I had to make do with vaseline.

I was becoming more conscious too of the gap that was appearing in my mind between John, the 'young man about the house' and Jane, whose emotions were threatening to derail my life. I felt I had far more in common with Laura and her girl friends, than when I was kicking around with my old school mates. When Laura took me clubbing, I found my eyes wandering over the men as much as the girls: not the young guys dancing though, for many of them looked as pretty as girls anyway, but the security at the door. The sight of muscled forearm made me tingle.

I already had my evening planned out when I finished work on Monday: pack my laundered girl clothes, bath, shave all over and I even managed to beat my protesting sister to the bathroom. As usual for my fishing trips, I got an early night but my excitement kept me awake past midnight and I awoke to the unwelcome sound of the alarm.

It was safe for me to apply my simple schoolgirl make up since no one else in the house was awake and I decided to wear my blue knickers too, because I found them so sexy, despite their 'regulation' style.

When I finally arrived at the river, the dawn was turning the sky a beautiful pink with the promise of a warm day. I love the quiet of that time, when sounds appear singly and even the noise of a passing car has a beginning and an end, instead of everything blurring together. I could even hear my feet swishing through the long, dew-covered grass as I crossed the field. I seemed to be the only person at the river but I took an indirect route to the old buildings just in case.

Once inside the sanctuary of our shed, I checked that nothing had been disturbed since my last visit: the buildings could easily be accessed by anyone but everything seemed to be in its place, which put me at ease.

I put my bag down, retrieved the blanket from its hiding place and began to undress. I had only taken off my jacket when I heard footsteps outside, which made me tense up, but there was no need, as Paul appeared in the doorway.

"Oh, sorry," he said, catching sight of me. "I was expecting someone else."

"Just be a minute and I'll be gone," I replied, understanding his cryptic code. Paul turned his back to me and busied himself lighting a cigarette, whilst I quickly undressed and changed into my girl clothes but still fumbled with the awkward buttons of my blouse. I shook my hair out and checked myself in the mirror, pleased that I had already applied some eyeliner and just needed to apply a little sheen to my lips for that fresh-faced, young girl look. I hid John's clothes away and stepped up behind Paul, putting my arms round his waist.

"Hello. I'm sorry I was late,"

"Have you attended to yourself?" he asked, without looking at me.

"Oh, no. Sorry I've only just arrived," I replied a little flustered.

"Well then use this to clean yourself and then ditch the boy," he said, handing me a small plastic bottle. It had a thin spout and when I took it from his hand I realised it was full of warm liquid.

"Is this... erm... is this a douche?" I whispered to him. He nodded, still looking out over the yard outside.

"Go and clean yourself out over there: you should be safe from prying eyes but don't take all day. I'll watch you from here and let you know if anyone walks this way." He stepped to one side, waved me past him and pointed to where I was to go.

This wasn't going quite as I had expected. It was safe being a girl inside but stepping out into the world, even into the relative privacy of the yard, was something quite new. I stood alongside Paul in the doorway and looked up to him for some reassurance but he didn't even glance at me.

"Come on, hurry up!" he said gently pushing me forward.

I picked my way over the mounds of discarded rubbish and found a spot, screened from the field by a bush. I looked back at Paul, who was leaning against the wall and watching me with casual amusement.

I reached under my short skirt, pulled my knickers down to my knees and squatted. I examined the bottle and gave it a gentle squeeze, making a jet of water squirt out. Balancing with difficulty, I had to use both hands to guide the spout to my pussy. It was thin enough to slide in easily but the plastic was hard and felt alien inside me. I squeezed it hard and the pressure grew in my pussy and I had to fight the reflex of my muscles that wanted to expel the liquid back out.

I looked again at Paul who was watching intently and I felt embarrassed by this complete lack of privacy. I frowned at him and waved to him to turn around and with a toss of his head he reluctantly turned away. I relaxed my sphincter and let the water shoot out. I still had half the contents left so, leaning forwards a little, I squirted the remainder into my body. I waited a few seconds before letting this go too. I realised I had nothing to dry my bottom so had to sit for a moment or two to allow myself to dry. I pulled my knickers up as I slowly rose, still wary that someone might wander into view. I hurried back and broke into a run as I past Paul at the door.

"Has something spooked you?" he asked with amusement.

"Well, no, but it's embarrassing, especially with you watching me! A girl deserves some privacy," I replied hotly.

"It made an interesting sight - brought out the voyeur in me. Now then, just one more task before we start: go and toss yourself off."

"I'm not sure I can, Paul. I'm not really in the mood after that," I said, for it was true: I felt quite unsexy and stood with my arms folded.

"Would you like a little encouragement?" he teased me and stepped up in front of me to put a gentle kiss on my pouting lips. I nodded in reply.

"Would another kiss help?" he continued, to which I nodded more.

"Perhaps, some kisses to your neck?" he went on gently, running his lips over my ear and planting little kisses down my neck that made me shiver. He put his hands on my shoulders and turned me around, placing more kisses on my neck. He ran his fingers down my sides and, splaying them wide, drew them up my front, from my pelvis to my breasts so that I shuddered. He pressed his hips against me and I could feel his already stiff member in the small of my back. He bent his knees, gripped my waist and pushed his hips under my bottom and then slowly straightened up. My skirt rode up between us as I felt its hard outline on the plump of my bottom.

Without further delay, my hands dived into my knickers and I hooked out my stiff little prick and began pumping: one hand moving on my shaft and for comfort, the other motionless under my balls.

Paul had stepped back a little but kept one hand on my shoulder to keep contact between us. He clearly wanted to distance himself from this overtly male act but knew I needed his reassurance. I bit my lip to silence any sound I might make whilst I quickly and efficiently dispatched my lingering maleness. This was no different to using a douche: I had to purge my body to make it ready for him. The sperm spurted out on the floor and I made sure every drop was gone from the tip of my penis. I took a step and rubbed dirt over the streak of come with my shoe and then tucked my prick and balls away.

I turned to face Paul and, fixing his eyes with mine, knelt down in front of him, my knees resting on the hard concrete floor. Without breaking contact with our eyes, and without a word spoken I hurriedly, frantically, unbuckled his belt and pulled at his trousers, yanking them off his hips with both hands. There it was, his huge heavy, hanging, dick that I was so hungry for. I grabbed at it and shoved it into my mouth like a feasting wolf, closing my eyes in relief that its acrid salty tasted could fill my senses again. I drew my hands down its monstrous length in deliberate milking strokes and could taste the dew of his precum on my tongue.

"Woah. Slow down little lady," Paul spoke tenderly to me, calming my gorging mouth with a stroke through my hair. "Slowly, Sweetness. Here: come over to the seat."

It was true, I felt possessed with a sexual hunger and even as he led me to sit, my whole body ached with the want of him making me breathe heavily. He pushed me down firmly into the seat and slipped his trousers off ( and his boots, I was relieved to see! ). I lifted my feet onto the edge of the cushions, my exposed knickers framed by my pale thighs. He knelt in front of my open legs and kissed my knees, first one then the other. With gentle care he unbuckled my sandals and lifted them off my feet, then slowly slipped my schoolgirl socks down my smooth calves, setting my feet free. He knew I was desperate to be fucked but he was regaining control and so took my foot in both his hands, holding it as though it were a little animal in his strong, protective grasp. He looked up into my face before putting his lips to my toes and slowly, so slowly kissed each toe in turn. My desire for him was so heightened that each of these little gestures were too much to bear and these simple sensations reverberated through every part of my body. I wanted him to stop, but could not speak; to carry on, but only little sounds came from my mouth; I wanted his possession of me to be swift and complete. His hands were now smoothing the skin on the back of my legs, his head hanging down to where his lips planted kisses on my ankles, when finally I found my shaking voice.

In a ragged whisper I spoke, "Take me like a woman, Paul. Please. I want you now."

He looked up and quietly nodded, understanding the need in me.

He parted my legs further and reaching under my bottom, pulled me forwards onto the edge of the seat. He ran his face down the inside of my soft, warm thighs, as I drew my knees into my chest. He reached to remove my knickers but his big fingers, unused to little clothes, pinched my skin as he tugged them gently away from me. I covered my genitals with my hand, leaving my naked pussy to his warm, wet lips that breathed on me before his tongue tipped my skin. His hands cupped the cheeks of my bottom and his prickly face sank into my opened body.

His tongue darted in, danced in little circles around my puckered skin then hotly, deliciously, sank in, making my insides shudder and glow. I finally gave voice to a moan of relief to the ceiling, my eyes open but unseeing.

Something harder pressed my skin as his finger began to test me, exploring the tightness of my opening until it yielded and welcomed it in. I felt a shock of cold, as he pressed a tube of gel to my hole and I gasped as it ran inside me. His finger quickly followed, then two, which he twisted around. He probed deeper, exploring, confident and firm. He pressed on my secret gland, his finger swirled, bringing another long moan from my lips. His fingers withdrew from me so that I looked up.

Paul was kneeling in front of me with his huge cock gripped in his hand like the handle of an axe. There was a final question in his eyes that I understood.

"Yes, Paul. Take me. Make me complete," I whispered, with tears of happiness in my eyes. As he shifted his position, I took in the moment. I felt entirely naked and open to this man. I had no defence, no modesty behind which to hide. My body was his to take. He could have taken a knife and plunged it into me but instead it was his thick, rampant cock that pressed against my body. It pressed against my opening insistently and without pity. My cunt gaped open: there could be no other name for a thing so hungry for meat. The pressure built and the flesh gave way and with a flash of pain he entered me. My uncertain hands were on his arms, needing his reassurance. His tip waited inside my tight entrance and his face pressed to mine. I nodded my head against his and pressed my lips to his ear.

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