One for the Team Ch. 02

Charles hefted his suitcase onto the bench and took a nervous piss. He looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. There was nothing he could do but to start his transformation.

Charlotte had longed to present herself to the outside world but not like this. She knew the other members of the council from rugby. They were bullies just like Robert Fellows and she fully expected to be ridiculed, taunted, teased and likely take a hiding. She would let them deride and beat her if that's what made them feel superior; she would take it all but they couldn't take her dignity.

"Jesus fucking Christ; look at her!" Wayne Jenkins stammered, spilling his drink as he pointed at Charlotte as she entered through the curtain.

Charlotte was dressed in a pencil skirt and satin blouse, stockings and high heels and wore her favourite jet-black wig which was bob-cut with a fringe in front and framed her face and curled under her chin. Her makeup was dramatic: rouge to accentuate her sharp cheekbones, black mascara and eyeliner and blended eyeshadow to emphasise her emerald green eyes and blood-red lipstick to give her lips fullness. She wore matching nailpolish, and had accessorised with ornate costume jewellery.

She had debated with herself as whether to do a half-arsed job and come out looking like 'a bloke in a dress' but she decided to remain true to herself despite what the consequences may be. She also suspected that if she tried to present an amateurish version of herself that Robert would see through the ruse and her punishment would be swift and brutal.

"Get over here!" Robert ordered.

Charlotte walked over to where Robert lay reclining on the sofa sipping scotch. Despite not wanting to present herself that way her tight skirt and four-inch heels gave her a seductive gait and her hips swung provocatively. She was extremely self-conscious as she stood in front of Robert. She was effectively encircled by the other members of the council lazing on their sofas, watching her intently.

"You would never know would you?" Steven Balfour-Brown looked her up and down.

"It's still a bloke in a dress and I don't want anything to do with it," Brian Nichol sneered.

"Tell the council your name sweetheart," Robert teased.

"My name is Charlotte," she spoke to the ground.

The four youths were amazed at the sound of her voice. Her looks, her mannerisms and the way she walked and talked; she was for all intents and purposes an attractive young woman. The only dissenter was Brian Nichol.

"Don't be shy. Lift your head and pirouette for us; let's see what you've got," Robert said.

Charlotte did as she was told; she raised her head and looked the young men in the eye as she turned around to face them one at a time.

"Come here," Robert beckoned.

The other three lads were amused and content to watch Robert torment Charlotte. One of his favourite pastimes was tormenting Charles and they expected nothing different just because he was wearing a skirt.

"Let me see you up close," Robert rose to his knees on the couch.

Charlotte stepped up so that she was eye to eye with him.

"Closer," he whispered.

Charlotte stepped in closer so that her face was only inches from his.

Robert studied her face. She was beautiful, her skin soft and glowing, defined cheekbones, the dark makeup accentuated her wide green eyes; her lips were full and pouty. He lifted a hand to her face and Charlotte winced in anticipation of a blow but instead Robert stroked her cheek, his fingers softly traced a line down to her mouth where his thumb brushed her slightly parted lips.

Robert smiled at Charlotte and edged forward so that his lips were almost touching hers. He could smell her perfume. He put his hands on her shoulders and moved his fingers slowly down her arms; then he caressed the back of her hands which hung limply at her sides. His hands moved to Charlotte's hips and she inhaled sharply and then even sharper when they moved to her buttocks, tracing the pert globes covered in the tight pencil skirt. His fingers continued their exploration down her thighs, softly caressing where the hem of her skirt touched her knees, lingering on her flesh.

Charlotte was visibly shaking with fear and possibly something else; she had never felt so confused. The sight of her standing before Robert, inches from his body as he slowly and silently explored her with his hands whilst gazing into her eyes was both exotic and erotic. Wayne Jenkins and Steven Belfour-Brown were sporting erections that were clearly visible in the front of their tracksuit pants.

When Robert's hand disappeared under Charlotte's skirt there was an audible gasp from everyone in the room. Charlotte was trembling but she refused to look away from Robert Fellows. If she was going to suffer indignity, she would suffer it proudly; she would not cower before this man.

Robert's fingers traced the backseam of her stocking to the silky dark welt and then followed a garter strap to the leg opening of her Harlow vintage knickers. The fabric felt cool and shimmery as he fondled it between his fingers. The other young men could see Robert's hand outlined through the fabric of Charlotte's tight skirt and they wondered when he was going to stop. He was getting close to putting his hand somewhere that they found both repugnant and excruciatingly arousing.

"Don't do it Rob. You're not some kind of poofter are you?" Brian Nichol called out breaking the spell.

Robert glared at Brian who glowered back at him. Charlotte stood stock still, her eyes lifted to the ceiling.

As an act of defiance Robert continued to explore under Charlotte's skirt. The audience watched in wonder as Robert's fingers grazed the glossy back and side panels of her knickers, lingering on her buttocks and then continuing onto the satin tummy panel.

Charlotte was trembling but she had returned her gaze Robert's face.

"Fuck this! You lot are crazy!" Brian Nichol arose and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

No one else in the room took any notice, they were all mesmerised.

"How do you do it?" Robert whispered.

Charlotte knew exactly what he meant. Why was there no bulge in her panties?

"I can err... I can... I can retract by testes... my balls," Charlotte stammered.

"And I just tape the rest underneath."

It was just bizarre. Charlotte was standing millimetres from a man who despised her but had his hand under her skirt, caressing her knickers while she explained the art of tucking and taping.

"Show us," Wayne Jenkins called out.

"Yeah... show us!" Steven Belfour-Brown followed suit.

"Well Charlotte dear... show them," Robert breathed heavily into her ear.

He took his hand from under her skirt and turned her to face his two chums.

Charlotte took the hem of her skirt in her fingers and began to pull the garment up her thighs. It was tight but the kick-pleat allowed a bit of give and she was able to shimmy the skirt slowly up her legs. The shimmy added to the provocativeness of the act, almost like she was performing a striptease.

"Oh I love a girl in stockings," Wayne Jenkins whispered.

All eyes were fixated on Charlotte as she disclosed her eight denier, ultra-bare, flesh-toned nylon stockings. She struggled with the hem of her skirt until the darker shadow welt appeared and then the coffee-coloured gauzy top welt where the garters were attached. The men gasped as her skirt continued to rise until Charlotte had it rucked around her waist exposing the peach coloured high-rise, high-cut, knickers.

Charlotte stood indignantly holding her skirt up, trembling but contemptuous, despite the single tear that ran down her cheek.

All three of the men were fully erect at the sight of the beautiful woman lifting her skirt to show them her underwear. Not one of them thought of Charles, all they could see was Charlotte.

"Can I pull my skirt down now?" she breathed softly.

"You may," Robert broke the tension.

"And would you like a drink Charlotte?" he asked almost affably.

Charlotte pulled down and straightened her skirt and as she did do she did not want to admit to herself that she had become slightly tumescent whilst she was being ogled and degraded. She would not be that girl.

"Come, sit here," Robert patted the cushion beside him.

Wayne and Steven crowded in, pulling their chairs close to where Charlotte sat stiffly upright on the edge of the seat next to Robert. She held her glass in both hands and sipped the pungent liquor.

Robert leaned out and picked up a remote control off the low table in front of him. The cord snaked across the floor to a lowboy television stand on which was perched a colour TV and VCR. The picture was frozen on the screen, distorted by fuzzy horizontal lines. He pressed the play button.

"So what's your favourite part of the video? Is it that?" Robert pointed to the television.

The sound was muted and on the screen and the 'secretary' was on her knees fellating the businessman who was standing, guiding her head with his hands as she bobbed up and down in his crotch. The shot was taken from behind the secretary and although you couldn't actually see any flesh, it was obvious what was happening.

Charlotte blushed.

"I told you; I just watch it for stimulation, I don't actually do anything like that," she whispered and lowered her head again.

Robert turned sideways and lifted Charlotte's face and as she turned to him she could see the bulge in the front of his tracksuit. She wasn't stupid and had seen that Wayne Jenkins and Steven Belfour-Brown were also tumescent. This was a bizarre situation for her; she was used to cleaning Robert's dorm or fagging for him or running around the rugby field with all three of them throwing passes or making tackles. Now they were ogling her like she was some kind strumpet they had paid to amuse them.

Robert studied her face again.

"I can't believe how beautiful and feminine you are," he sighed.

Charlotte didn't think she could blush any redder than she already had but she did, she flushed a deep crimson.

"What do you think your father would do if he knew that Charlotte still existed and was traipsing around the hallowed halls of his alma mater?" his face turned from amiable to villainous in an instant and Charlotte's face became pale.

"I'm not traipsing around the halls! I confine myself to my dorm; you're the one who forced me here!" Charlotte quipped.

"True enough but what would he think?" Robert countered.

Wayne and Steven were enjoying watching Charlotte squirm. As much as they found her delightful, the wicked streak in them shone through. It made it more titillating knowing that this woman was here against her will. Neither of them thought of her as Charles any longer; she was just Charlotte, the sexy coquette who was currently at their mercy.

"How would he find out?" Charlotte snapped back.

"What if say... an upper houseman whose father was friendly with Reginald Ward was to tell his father, who then passed the information on."

"Men can be very indiscreet in their cups," he chuckled.

"I take it this going somewhere? You've had me at your mercy every day since I arrived but now you have me entirely under your control. I'm no idiot Robert," the desperation in Charlotte's voice was tangible.

"Then get on your knees. Time to take one for the team," Robert's voice was thick despite his attempt at humour.

"Hey Robert, don't you think we've gone far enough?" Steven Balfour-Brown was having second thoughts.

"Your choice Steven, you can leave any time you want," Robert said without taking his eyes off Charlotte who had gotten on her knees in front of him.

Neither Steven nor Wayne moved. Instead they leaned forward in expectation.

Charlotte guessed what was coming. She had hoped that someday she might be able to do this with a nice man who desired and respected her; who treated her like a proper lady but it was not to be. She resigned herself to her fate. What was the saying her mother sometimes said jokingly: 'just lie back and think of England', except she wouldn't be lying; she would be on her knees instead. Somewhere deep in her psyche she wondered if her mother had ever done what she was about to; she supposed most women did, it was the eighties after all.

"I say Rob; you're not really going to make her do it are you?" Steven whispered.

"I'm not going to make her do anything. She can get up off her knees and walk out of here any time she wants to. She can even use the bogs to clean off her makeup and change before she leaves," Robert said, dry-mouthed.

"But if I do leave I suppose your father and my father are going to meet at Brooks's and have a conversation that will ruin my life?" Charlotte looked up at him.

"That's possible Charlotte. Anything's possible," Robert said dryly.

"I thought so," she leaned forward and her delicate fingers tipped with blood-red fingernails hooked into the waistband of Robert's tracksuit.

He eased himself up a little to assist as Charlotte pulled his tracksuit down. It bunched around his knees. His cock stood proud. It was rock-hard, long and slim with blue veins pulsing through the almost transparent silky skin. The pink glans was almost pretty, a single bead of silvery pre-ejaculate oozed from the tip.

Charlotte put her middle finger on the viscous bubble and collected it; then she enfolded Robert's cock in her fingers, delicately working them down the shaft.

Robert groaned and leaned back on the sofa but his eyes remained locked on the pretty young girl stroking his phallus.

Wayne Jenkins and Steven Belfour-Brown were transfixed watching the gorgeous lady dressed so provocatively with her heavy makeup, nylon stockings and high heels masturbate their friend. It was just like the pornos they liked to watch where three men used one pretty woman for their pleasure. They looked at each other and glared. They both wanted to be next.

For Charlotte, taking Robert's cock in her hand was not really that unpleasant. She had enacted out these scenes in her mind many times. She was the Sexcretary and an unnamed faceless man was her boss. She was compelled to pleasure him but she really wanted to anyway, she didn't need to be forced.

That was her fantasy. This was not.

Although taking a man's cock in her hand did not nauseate her; she still felt belittled and disgraced. She thought again about what her mother said about thinking of England and decided it would be best if she got this over with as quickly as possible.

Charlotte softly stroked Robert's hard flesh making him moan with desire. She gripped it a little tighter and increased the pace using the little droplets of pre-seminal fluid leaking from the eye of his cock to lubricate the substantial organ. She bought her other hand into play and softly cupped his scrotum, gently squeezing and caressing it, making Robert writhe a little on the couch.

Fleetingly she thought how easy it would be to crush his testes and bend his phallus and make him scream but the three men would take retribution so it was easier to capitulate.

She worked on Robert's cock expertly, bringing him closer and closer to extremis. It wasn't difficult; she had a penis of her own and she knew how to manipulate it to achieve the greatest satisfaction.

Robert suddenly shifted and he sat up and leaned over her. She knew what was coming and when he put his hands on her head and guided her face down into his crotch she offered no resistance. Instead she opened her lips and took him into her mouth.

Charlotte had seen enough pornography to know what to do. She took Robert's shaft in her hand and worked on his glans with her tongue, slavering at the organ as it began to throb. She continued to gently squeeze his scrotum and she made sure she looked up at him and kept eye contact while her red lips and velvety tongue worked the head of his penis.

Robert looked down on the gorgeous woman, her exotic face framed by the jet black hair, her dark smoky eye makeup and brilliant green eyes looking up at him seductively as she used her blood-red lips and soft tongue to stimulate his phallus; but he could also see her renitence, she was not doing this voluntarily. She was his captive and that somehow made it even more pleasurable.

Licking and sucking Robert's cock was not as repulsive as she thought it would be; under different circumstances she probably would have been delighted to fellate the handsome young man but he was ruining her dream of what it would be like the first time. She was supposed to be with a considerate lover, not some arrogant bully who thought that she was no better than the dirt beneath his feet.

She felt Robert's cock begin to pulse and sensed his orgasm approaching. Robert tried to push his cock all the way into her mouth but she resisted. She worked the shaft with her hand and caressed his scrotal sac and pursed her lips around the head of his cock and lapped at his fraenulum with the tip of her tongue.

Robert gripped her head tighter and she was rewarded with a mouthful of steaming semen. Freshets of the creamy issue gushed from his penis in long sustained spurts, filling her mouth to the extent that it ran from the corners and down her chin. Runnels of the glutinous spunk dripped down onto her lap soaking into her skirt and stockings.

Wayne Jenkins and Steven Belfour-Brown were captivated by Charlotte's performance. They both had their cocks out and had been stroking them to full tumescence watching the pretty girl as she was forced to suck their friend's cock.

Robert sighed as the last of his issue dribbled from his cock and then he pushed Charlotte's face away from his groin. Before she could recover Steven Belfour-Brown leapt off his couch and gripped Charlotte's head in his hands and turned her to face him. He prodded at her mouth with his throbbing organ which looked almost ready to explode.

And it did. He pushed his cock into Charlotte's mouth just as he orgasmed, filling her abused mouth with viscous musky liquid which she had no choice but to swallow. Steven howled with pleasure as Charlotte used her tongue on him to elicit the last of his issue, wanting to get it over with. Steven pulled his phallus from her mouth and smiled down at her just as Wayne Jenkins who was standing beside her sprayed ropes of scalding semen over her face and hair.

Freshets of the searing slippery secretions spattered in her hair, in her eyes and mouth. Her face was covered with congealing ejaculate. It glistened in the lamplight, even with her makeup smeared and her face glazed with drying semen she still looked beautiful; like a perfect painting that had been scoured by the final brushstroke.

Charlotte refused to bow her head as the three men stood over her, their cocks still dripping droplets of their issue onto the granite floor.

"Go fix your face and come back here," Robert panted, his heart still racing from the tremendous orgasm.

Steven offered his hand to help her to her feet but Charlotte refused it and struggled to stand on her high heels. She stumbled and fell against Robert Fellows who held her to him briefly. For a fleeting second she thought she saw compassion in his deep blue eyes but he eased her out of his embrace, turned her around and patted her buttocks, sending her on her way.

Charlotte staggered into the privy and stood before the mirror and looked at herself.

"Oh god I'm so sorry," she cried as she hoisted her skirt and freed the throbbing erection from her knickers.

She barely touched her cock as she ejaculated onto the tiled floor having to grip the bench to prevent herself from collapsing as the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced wracked her body. The shame she felt could not suppress the absolute bliss she experienced as she remembered her mouth being filled with milky spunk as Robert's cock erupted. It was deplorable but it was the most exciting thing that she had ever experienced.