Changing Rooms Ch. 02

A couple weeks later it was the start of the summer holidays. I spent just about every night after Kev had fucked me in the changing room thinking back to that afternoon, and jacking off in bed – letting my hot cum spurt onto my belly, imagining it was his...

And then about three days into the school break I got a text from an unknown number:

Vikki, I'm horny. Meet me in the park opposite school now. Kev

As soon as I read it my heart started pumping. I'd imagined him touching me up in the school corridor, me dressed as his slutty schoolgirl; fantasised about sucking on his thick cock out back of some sleazy pub near where he lived, my bare knees on wet concrete. I'd dreamed this, wanted this, but never entertained the idea that it could actually happen!

I'd dismissed the changing rooms as a one-off, something he wouldn't risk doing again – and something he'd only done to teach me a lesson. Seems like I wasn't the only one who'd enjoyed it.

I grinned to myself and rubbed the tip of my cock through my baggy jeans. Outside school I dressed more like a skater, loose tees, wide Vans trainers, and maybe a cap. My hair was short, now; I'd shaved it down to a blond stubble at the end of term.

My parents were at work, so I locked up and headed for the park. I decided not to skate, and just walked there; it was only a short way.

Kev sat on the back of one of the park benches, his feet on the seat. He was alone, smoking a cigarette and just scanning, watching the odd person as they walked past. It wasn't particularly busy.

My cock throbbed when I saw him, and my stomach tightened. He was wearing a black Adidas tracksuit, the track top zipped down half way so you could see his thick silver chain and smooth bare chest. He was lightly tanned already and the summer hadn't even started properly yet.

He just nodded at me, almost dismissively, when I said hi and sat down on the back of the park bench near him. I left a gap, worried in case I might piss him off.

'What's up?' I asked him, after he hadn't spoke in a while.

He drew on the cigarette and turned to me casually, confidently. 'We're gonna go back to mine, Vik, and I'm gonna bang your fucking hips out.'

I swallowed hard, intense and excited.

'Yeah, ok,' I said casually. He looked at me like he wasn't asking for my consent; like I didn't have any choice in what was going to happen this afternoon.

He lived on the other side of the park, in the council houses there. Some of them were pretty rundown; it was a rough neighbourhood. We didn't really say much on the way over; he turned me on so much in the way he talked and moved I kept wanting to tug on my cock every time he said something. I was so horny, and distracted by imagining what he was going to do to me.

We got into his house, which was pretty cluttered inside. There was nobody else in and he took me up to his bedroom, sat on his bed and pushed himself back towards the pillows. He just lay there, casually watching me, and lit up another cigarette. I didn't know what to do. His clothes lay on the floor, there were cans on the desk next to a crappy computer, trainers and his Rockports against one wall... I just stood there, hands in my jeans pockets, looking around, trying not to feel self-conscious and failing.

'You liked getting fucked then, yeah?' he asked.

'It was fucking amazing Kev,' I said. I could feel myself blushing, a little.

There was the briefest flicker of a grin over his face, but he drew on the cigarette and looked out the bedroom window.

'You're too manly for me like,' he said – and instantly I was crestfallen, like broken inside. To think that he had brought me over here, built me up, to tell me I wasn't good enough. I opened my mouth to speak, to hurl some abuse at him and fuck the consequences, when he started talking again:

'My sister's gonna show you how it's done.'

I was confused. 'What?'

He turned back; his eyes were intense. 'I said, my sister's gonna show you how it's done, shit ears. Get you outta that getup' – he waved vaguely at my clothes – 'and into something... more appropriate.'

His lips fixed themselves into a thin grin.

'Hey Ash, how's it going?'

I turned at the voice, and saw Kev's sister Dominique standing by the door. She was around the same age as us, being from Kev's step-dad's earlier fling.

'Um, hi,' I said. Thinking, what the fuck is going on?

She walked languidly into the room, all feminine and sexual. 'Kev told me,' she smiled. 'About what happened in the changing rooms?' I could feel myself blushing. I hadn't expected him to tell anyone, never mind his step-sister. She grinned shyly. 'He always keeps me up to date about his fucks,' she said. 'That way, if someone pisses him off I know who to blame.' Her threat was obvious, for all her apparent calm. 'There was only one problem with you, really,' she went on. 'You're too boyish. We need to change that.'

She beckoned me to follow her out of Kev's room. I took a hesitant step, looked back at him – he was smoking still, blowing smoke rings, looking out of the window.

'Don't worry about him,' Dominique said. 'We need to focus on you.'

She took me into her room, which was also a mess – clothing spread out everywhere, heels and trainers muddled up, bedclothes in disarray. I didn't know how people could live that way.

'Kev pointed you out to me at school, before term ended. You're about the same build as me. A little taller, but I have some things that would fit you I think.'

I started paying more attention to her clothes—

But she started dragging me towards the bathroom, this large affair with fleshtone tiles all over the walls and lace curtains. Their mother had no taste, for fuck's sake.

Dominique was looking at me keenly. 'First, we gotta get you outta those stupid clothes, get you a little less hairy. Then we can play dress-up, yeah?'

My cock twitched at the thought of wearing some of this hot girl's clothes. Dominique – or Dom as she preferred – was known to be about as rough as Vikki. She was much cuter, with a more catlike personality. She could be fine one moment, then truly vicious the next. She always wore fake nails to school, and short skirts which were just inside the regulation length to avoid getting her detention. She flirted with teachers, flashed her breasts to the lads on the football pitch in after school practice – was a cocktease, and dressed like one.

I got out my clothes, telling her this wasn't something I usually did. I felt a little more relaxed, now that I knew what was going on.

She bundled the clothes up and put them in a bag, then took some lotion and started squeezing it on my chest and stomach. It was freezing.

'Woah, what's this?'

She shrugged. 'Veet. You haven't got much hair, but we need to get rid of it. Legs as well.' She looked at me meaningfully: 'And your cock and ass have to be smoooooth.'

I blushed again. 'I always trim—'

'But you still have hairy balls,' she said, giggling and pointing to my hardware.

'Yeah, yeah, ok. Whatever.' I was relaxing, but mindful that at the end of all of this Kev was going to fuck my brains out – I wanted to be sure I did exactly what he wanted; I wasn't going to put up a struggle and lose out on the chance to be fucked again like that.

I let her coat me all over as she prattled on about some reality TV show, the type of crap I never watch. She began telling me about the hot muscular guys on it, and that kinda got me aroused – thinking about what it would be like to be mistaken for a girl by them and fucked like a tramp in some alleyway somewhere, or suck their cocks in the men's toilets.

'Wow!' Dom exclaimed.

I looked down and blushed again. My cock had started to get hard, and it was right about where she was applying the hair removal cream.

'This turning you on babe?' she asked me, teasingly. She was kneeled before me, had been putting the lotion on my thighs.

She continued looking at my cock, as it rose steadily higher no matter what I tried to go.

'You love being a girl, don't you?' she asked. 'You thinking about those hot lads off the telly rubbing up against you? Sliding your hands over their swollen cocks? Feeling them push into you, fucking you like a slut?'

I moaned, unwilling to touch myself in case I came, afraid of what would happen if Kev found us like this – and trying desperately to get my cock to soften again, but turned on by her describing exactly what I felt.

She smiled, and stood up. 'Don't worry! I think that all the time,' she winked. 'Being a girl is fucking hot, man. Girls get all the best clothes, they can be the most sexy, get driven around and get their drinks bought for them (well, sometimes anyway). And most important of all, all the hot guys are straight as. You think Kev would tap some faggot ass? No fucking way. He is all about the pussy.'

She put away the cream, started up the shower.

'Seeing you in his clothes made him flip out, made him want to humiliate you. That's why he dressed you up the way he did, to teach you a lesson. But shit, it turned him on. Not the fact that you were a guy in girls clothes – but the fact that you kinda looked like a girl. Kinda.' She squinted at me. 'You have a deep chin, for a girl... but I'm fairly sure we can draw attention to your eyes, try to balance it all out.'

'You're going to put makeup on me?' I spluttered.

'Well come on Ash! You think I'm going to all this bother of giving you my Veet and lending you my clothes to have you go out looking like a boy? Fuck off,' she said, grinning. 'Now jump in.'

I got in the shower, let the warm water run down me. The water sluiced off the cream and most of my hair; we touched up the odd place with her razor, then she produced a towel and I dried off. My skin felt weird without hair; kind of light and airy.

'You going to let me get dressed now?' I asked.

'Keen, aren't ya? Yeah, sure. Follow me.'

She took me back to her bedroom. Trance music was coming out of Kev's room, and I could smell ganja.

'Just dump the towel on the floor,' she told me. She rummaged through the various piles of clothes and her haphazard drawers and wardrobe, produced a pair of girl's hotpant boxer shorts, the type that ride up to reveal your ass. There was a black bra with a tiger print over the cups. She handed me a white vest top and after putting it on we filled the bra with two socks she had filled with bird seed. As I moved around the room, following her as she picked up one item after another looking for stuff for me to wear, I felt the heavy breasts sway and bob. My cock was getting hard again, and in the small hotpant panties there wasn't much place for it to go.

'Aha!' she said, pulling out a pair of worn jeans. She strode over to me holding them up against me. 'Struggle into these,' she said. 'They're skinny fit, should show off that tight ass of yours.' She winked at me again, and went back to hunting.

She was right though, the jeans were a tight fit; low rise, they left a small gap between them and the bottom of the vest where my smooth belly showed. Her wardrobes had full-length mirrors against them, and in these clothes my body looked amazing. The breasts took me up to her size, 36C – large for my thin frame. My stomach was flat below them, and the jeans made my skinny legs look neat and feminine. In the struggle to pull them on my cock had softened, and I'd been able to tuck it into the panties more.

Finally she came back over to me, holding a black leather-look jacket.

'Try this on.'

It was about the right fit, hooded and cropped, emphasising the push of my breasts. I turned before the mirror, pushing my butt out a little to create the impression of a larger behind, drawing in my stomach, settling back my shoulders so that my breasts popped forward... Fuck, if it wasn't for my shaven head and my face I would be so fucking hot! I was really impressed with how I looked.

Dom saw me gazing at myself.

'Yeah, whatever,' she said. 'Try not to lose focus. Kev wants to go out later on.'

She led me over to her dresser; it was cluttered with different types of makeup: lipsticks, mascara, eyeliner, foundation, everything, all different brands. She sat me down on the stool, facing towards her, and she sat on the end of her bed. She reached around me, picking up pots and brushes, applying and dabbing. The eyes were the worst, when she came to line them. It stung, made my eyes water, and I had to blink a few times to get over it. Nail extensions last – adding a good quarter inch to my fingers. It felt weird, like I was constantly overreaching for stuff.

'You'll get used to it,' she said, meaning everything.

And I didn't realise the implication of those words, just shrugged and nodded and continued making small contributions to her crappy monologue about reality television.

I was impatient, sitting there on the stool: impatient to see what I would look like when she'd finished, hoping she was some crazy kind of artist and was going to make me look stunning.

I'd pretty much forgotten about my hair, until she pulled out this long, straight blonde wig.

'What's that for?'

She frowned at me. 'You can't honestly believe that he'll accept you with a shaven head?'

'No,' I said. 'I meant why do you have a wig for?'

She raised one hand to her head and looked at me like I was slow. 'I'm a brunette,' she shrugged, pulling the wig on over my bristles. 'Sometimes I like to go blonde.'

'Don't we all.'

That was Kev, a deep masculine growl from the doorway. He stood there topless, leaning in, both hands on the doorposts. He was wearing a baseball cap, tilted far back in the scally style. A spliff drooped between his lips.

He looked at me through slit eyes.

'Look hot, Ash,' he said, almost indifferently – and then he left. 'Meet me in my room when you're done, yeah,' he called back from the hall.

I looked up at Dom; she was smiling broadly. 'Shit girl,' she said, 'even I think I would fuck you, looking like that.'

I moved, stood up in front of the mirror. I looked like such a trap. I wasn't stunning, but my body was spot on, I thought; Dom's job with the makeup was amazing. The long straight blonde hair framed my face well; the skin on my face was unblemished, cheeks a little ruddy. She'd made my eyes up smoky, applied some fake eyelashes, and added layer after layer of mascara to cake them up. Slutty, a little – but it matched the tone set by my outfit.

'Fucking hell, Dom,' I said, grinning stupidly. I turned around – and she was directly behind me. Before I could say anything, her lips were on mine, and her tongue was past my teeth.

I backed off, gave her an odd look, like what the hell was she doing?

She looked a little sad. 'That's a shame,' she said. 'I'm a very experienced young girl.' And then she smiled like a vixen: 'You must love the cock, and with an ass like yours – and looking the way you do: you're gonna get it, for sure. But any time you need some girl time' – she held her hands out before her, pointed the index fingers at her tits – 'Dom'll be here for you.'

'Cheers Dom,' I said. 'Thanks for the help. Um. Think I'll go see Kev now, like.'

'Get out of here you slag!' she shouted playfully. 'And remember to shake that booty and strut your shit!'

I felt kinda weird, brushing her off like that after all the help she'd given me. I mean, I looked really fucking good, and it was in her clothes, her makeup, her wig... Afterwards, I did find it a bit weird that Kev found me so attractive, when I was wearing his step-sister's clothes – and who could really tell us apart, from behind, with that wig on? But it was something I never thought about at the time.

I went along the hallway, trying to walk like a girl. Rapped on Kev's door. He called me in. He was just in his boxers – Calvin Kleins. His muscles looked thick on his calves and thighs; he played football quite a bit, after school. His pecs were coming through, and his stomach was flat and toned, upper arms thick. I watched the way he moved, instantly turned on.

'Come over here.'

I went over. He was spraying himself with Lynx. He threw the can on the bed, took a step toward me, pulled me closer with his hand on my butt, and gave me a French kiss.

I started to moan, put my hands on his taut body, feeling his flesh ripple as he moved and drew me into his embrace. Our cocks were so near each other, and I could feel him hardening as I placed my hand on the front of his boxers.

He pulled back and smiled, gently. It was a look I'd never expected of him, like contentment. 'Not so fast,' he said, and moved away to put his clothes on. 'Got a present for you anyways,' and he waved over at his bed.

There was a carrier bag on it. When I peered inside, I saw the boots I had slung into the changing room ceiling: Vikki's boots.

'Woah,' I said. 'What the fuck? How'd you find these?'

He shrugged. 'Vikki's been complaining about them going missing since that day, man,' he said. 'Figured you'd hidden them somewhere.' He gave a short laughed. 'She had to walk around barefoot for the rest of the day.'

I laughed a bit at this too – but the temptation to wear the boots he had fucked me in was too distracting. I sat on the edge of his bed and pulled them on.

They were Iron Fist Manslayer boots, about knee high. I'd looked them up on the net the weekend after my fuck with Kev in the lads changing rooms. There were no zips, just a stretchy material at the back that let you slide your whole foot down – and then the leather gripped, clinging to the skin-tight jeans. They were platform boots, a little difficult to walk in – but I was more used to this now, having practiced a little in my mom's shoes when I was home alone.

I stood up, looking at my legs in the boots.

Kev coughed. 'You about ready, huh?'

I looked up. He was wearing a tight vest that made his arms look thick and chunky, low-riding trackie bottoms (so you could see the band of his CKs) and a pair of Nikes.

I smiled.

**************************************

'You guys are so full of shit. Wouldn't know your way around a pussy if you had a map.'

'Hey, everybody knows their way around your pussy, Vikki.'

Lads laughter; nervous, excited.

'Like fuck they do, asshole. No way have you ever had this tight box.'

'Tight? Fucking tight? Hey, Paul Daniels called yesterday, wants to know if you can hold a few rabbits for him in there in his new act.'

'Piss off, Neil.'

More laughter.

The cut was a fenced area between the backs of two rows of houses, a public footpath but very rarely used because of the kids that hung out in it, smoking and drinking cider and sometimes giving people a hard time when they went through on their own.

I knew all about this last bit. I wasn't a usual target – I wasn't a geek, or anything – and I wasn't out as a gay guy, at school. But maybe they'd picked up on it somehow – or maybe they were indiscriminate, just hurling abuse to get a reaction. I'd been called a faggot, a dyke, and a geek: clearly they didn't know what they were talking about anyway.

But I was apprehensive about joining this group of four of the hardest, roughest lads at school, who were smoking, and drinking cider and lager, spitting on the path even though they didn't need to.

Kev sensed my tension. 'Relax,' he said. 'They don't know it's you. Fuck, bet your own mother wouldn't recognise you.' I nearly tripped at the mention of my mother – what the fuck would she think if she found out?! 'Anyway,' he said, 'Dom did a good job on you. Try to speak like a girl and move like a girl.'

And then we were too close to whisper anything to each other.

A couple of the lads turned and whistled, making me blush. Kev put his hand on my ass.

'This one's mine like, lads,' he said.