The Femboy Escort Agency Ch. 01

Feminina was settled on the main stretch of Hiko Falls, Nevada. Little Vegas or Baby Vegas as they called it. The town was a goldmine for tourism, and thanks to it the town had grown wildly within the last ten years; mostly due to the three large casinos, The Diamond Jade, The Richer Braun, and Hades. Only a few remembered when the place was a single stretch of road with Hades being a mini-mall. Now, the entire town had been dappled with bars, hotels, and establishments that embellished the many vices that one required. Only a select few remembered Feminina was the unsung hero that had begun the boom of tourism almost four years ago. The black building had no windows on the bottom floor, beyond the two heavily tinted ones on either side of the main entrance, adorned with a matching maroon carpet and canopy; the resting place of Connor Awiatka, the gargantuan security guard. Harry Polinski was stood at the blackened oak doors, all too aware that the guard was watching him.

"Going in?" His voice was deep.

The guard was dressed in a tight black T-shirt that seemed too small to contain his burly frame, his tree trunks arms darkened and thick. He didn't blink as Harry looked towards him and adjusted his glasses. His grip on his briefcase handle loosening from the sweat in his hands.

"I uh--I don--I've never--"

Connor hooked a thumb towards the door. "Go on in."

Harry opened his mouth to speak again but the guard was already staring back towards the main stretch, bored, and so he stepped inside. The maroon carpet at the entrance had seeped inside, coating all of the floor of the lobby and up towards the wide stairs. The walls were all decorated in deep black and red paint, with framed photographs of watercolour landscapes; pictures of cities like New York, and old 1960s Playboy covers. The room to the left contained a large bar that was currently being wiped down by blonde-haired woman. Near the end of the bar there were two women, both of them in black dresses with red polka dots. Their skin both chalky white, which made their hair seem even brighter. One had long, neon-green bangs, the other cherry red wrapped up into a ponytail. He slid his eyes over their legs, smooth, pale stems that settled into matching black, strapped high-heels. They both looked at him with pretty smiles.

"Like them?" A voice went off behind him.

He spun with a quick breath, instinctively bringing his suitcase to his chest. A man was leant against the wall. His build was not as muscular as the guard outside, but still intimidating enough compared to Harry's scrawny build. He wore a white shirt with rolled up sleeves; garnished with a black tie. His arms were decorated with detailed tattoos that ended at his wrists. When he looked at him, he noticed his eyes were a deep green, creasing in the corners along with the smile; giving off genuine warmth.

"I don--I'm not--"

The green-eyed man raised a hand. "It's fine, don't worry. Let me guess. In town on business? Never been before?"

Harry gulped and nodded hoping the man couldn't see his shame. He'd been married for almost ten years, had never even thought about another woman besides Cynthia but something lately had been pulling him away--maybe it was all the travelling, barely being home, or maybe it was something else he couldn't articulate because saying it out loud made it real. The need had become more than a thought when his co-worker told him that Feminina had something no married man could deny. He'd only really come out of curiosity and that was exciting enough, now he'd seen the place and it resembled any other place, pretty women who slept with you for money. He turned towards the door, but the man spoke again, pulling him back.

"Not even curious what we do here?"

"It's a brothel."

The green-eyed man raised his hand again. "We specialize in very specific company. We're an escort service, not a brothel."

"It seems pretty much like anywhere else, you know, with the girls," said Harry. "I was told this place was something special and I just wanted to see for myself y'know? I don't really think I'm interested."

The man's eyes went narrow, and he looked Harry up and down. "I see."

"I appreciate your tim--"

A slamming door echoed out from beyond the stairs, drawing both Harry and the tattooed man's eyes to them. The mumbles grew, peppered with sighs and exasperated huffs. A shape moved down the stairs; caramel coloured. He looked back to the man for a moment, only to see him still staring at the girl coming down. When Harry looked back, his eyes went to the hair; a messy bun of electric blue hair, wisps of it spread out like she'd been shocked. Her plump lips were ruby red and pursed, her eyes, beautifully brown were nestled in luscious lashes, creasing with her stern brow. It was only then that he looked lower to her flat chest, covered by a grey sports bra, and then finally below. A soft gasp escaped his mouth. Between the legs was a flaccid, soft cock and balls that were completely shaved. Oh my God, that's a man.

"Marcus," whined the boy. "Iris wore my personal trainer outfit and he lost the pants."

The tattooed man, Marcus, didn't move from where he was leaning. He didn't even seem bothered this person was half-naked out in the open. He only rolled his eyes and settled them on Harry then nodded his head towards the irritated boy.

"This's what we specialize in. Nice to see you too, Violet."

Harry was hypnotized, lost in the view before him, beautiful in a confusing way, and he was still trying to process what was happening. Violet had folded his arms, and pursed his lips tighter, now impatiently tapping his bare foot on the carpet.

"I'll speak to Iris about it," said Marcus. "Is this for a client now?"

"No. But my two o' clock wants the gym roleplay and I can't do that like this," he said as he displayed himself. Harry felt something stirring between his own legs.

"Eddy, the gym guy?" Marcus looked away, lost in thought. "Weird. I thought he was Azalea's thing." He shrugged.

Violet nodded. "I can't do this without the full thing and nobody else has a matching pair. It ruins the experience without the panties."

"I'll send Sarah to grab you a fresh pair, sound good? Although I think the experience kind of ends like this anyway," said Marcus as he scanned Violet up and down.

Violet stuck his tongue out, and then walked away.

"Thanks, Marcus, appreciate it, Marcus," he said.

Violet turned back for a second. "Thank you, Daddy."

"Jeez," Marcus said as he rubbed at his neck. "I hate it when they say that."

Harry didn't hear anything; his ears had tuned out, and his eyes were focused on watching Violet walk away. When he turned, he felt a stirring below as he watched his bubble butt bounce as he headed back upstairs. No guy would have a rear like that, he thought. He lowered his briefcase to cover himself below. I'm hard, why? His heart was racing, so much he thought Marcus could hear it. There came a tape on his arm as Marcus stepped towards the middle of the lobby, and turned to face him.

"Well, you saw it first-hand. That's our thing."

"I don't understand."

"Femboys."

"Femboys?" Harry shook his head, trying to understand.

"Our clientele enjoys the company of boys who are feminine. Girly looking guys--softness."

"Huh?"

"Guys who have the appeal of femininity, who are very effeminate in how they appear. I'm not sure how many other ways I can explain it."

"Violet," said Harry. "Is that her--his real name?"

"No. We like to name the boys after flowers, that was Rose's idea. It's easier that way for safety reasons. Come with me," he said as he led Harry towards the bar where the two girls in dresses were still talking. It dawned on him that they weren't women either, and yet he found them as excitingly attractive as Violet, his curiosity kept him looking back at them as they spoke to each other.

"They're all guys?"

"Feminina caters to the select few. We have boys who are willing to spend time with you, and they enjoy adhering to any specific needs. This is an all femboy establishment. I can direct you to a reputable place that has women if you want."

"Specific needs?" Harry couldn't stop looking at the red-headed boy.

"They enjoy dressing up, roleplaying, spending time with you, and you're paying for their company. For legal reasons my receptionist would normally state this stuff beforehand. If you feel like you want to peruse then you'll have to sign a legal waiver. You'll see we run this place a little differently. So, if you're interest--"

He could feel his cock pulsing, remembering Violet, and being so swept away by him that he couldn't just walk out the door now. He'd seen too much, and he couldn't understand why it had suddenly become an exciting concept in his head, but he knew it was something he wanted, something he really needed to try. "I'll pay whatever, sign whatever. But I want Violet."

"Slow your role," said Marcus as he planted his hand on his shoulder. "There are rules here. So, if you'll just--" The bartender reached behind the bar and grabbed a clipboard with a sheet of paper. There was a paragraph of text; a small block of regulations, references to specific Nevada law codes, and then an empty signature box at the bottom.

"Lots of legal jargon," said Marcus, "I'll give you the rundown."

"Sure," said Harry as he looked back towards the stairs.

"No physical abuse. If you both decide to become intimate of both your free will then any part of BDSM requires verbal confirmation and agreement. You hurt the boys then Connor outside hurts you, understand?"

Harry blinked. "O--okay."

"Just a preliminary thing. Two, if the boys tell you to stop at any point, they feel uncomfortable--you stop. If you don't, Connor is very happy to make sure you do."

Harry nodded.

"Three. Your legal agreement means that no information pertaining to your time spent is known to any third party, any attempt to disclose information within the time spent in this establishment to known local authorities or for publication will result in legal prosecution. This is a gentleman's club, and we are very much aware of what is within our legal domain." His voice became droll, like he'd explained this a thousand times. Harry realized he probably had.

"Four. Safety first. You keep it wrapped unless the boys specifically deem it so. By signing the waiver, you do declare you are free of any and all STDs. If you lie, or recklessly endanger the physical health of my employees, you will be prosecuted, and you will be sued. We have a good lawyer."

"This can't be legal--how does this all work?"

"We're very aware of the law here. You don't pay the boys for anything other than their company. Anything else that happens is of your own free will and his. What Violet chooses to do with you, well, that's up to you and him." Marcus smiled, and tapped the waiver. "All payments are very discreet and can be displayed in smaller sums upon request, in case your wife likes to check your accounts."

"I'm not--" He looked at his ring, and sighed. "Good."

Harry scrawled his signature onto the waiver, and then looked at Marcus. "Can I see Violet now?"

Harry paid the upfront fee for an entire hour; a thousand dollars. When the payment had been cleared, Marcus thanked him, and disappeared into the lounge on the other side. Harry sat patiently by the bar, nervously sipping at a lemonade. He tried to sit still but his legs had a mind of their own; his heart was beating so loudly he could hear it in his ears, every time somebody would come from the stairs, until finally he saw the same bright blue hair, combed back now and in pigtails. He felt his stomach go weak as Violet walked up to him wearing only a leather bra and G-string that perfectly held his cock in a silky, black bulge. Harry's own cock was so hard it hurt, throbbing with a ravenous need to explore this thing that he felt magnetized too. His co-worker wasn't lying, he thought. Violet sat down next to him, took his drink, and sipped at it, watching him with a lustrous, sleepy glare. His hand slid across Harry's thigh. "So, Marcus tells me you just had to have me when you saw me."

"I've never done anything like this before," he said. "I'm--I'm married." He looked down, trying to not sound ashamed and failing. He felt Violet's finger on his chin, lifting his head back up.

"That's okay. We're just spending some time together. Nothin' wrong with that, huh?"

"No, I guess not. I'm just--I'm--"

"Nervous."

"Yeah," he whispered. "I can't explain it but I just really wanted you."

"Wanna go somewhere private with me? You can explore me all you like." Violet took his hand, and put it between his legs. Harry felt the hardness between his legs, and all sense left him.

"Let's go."

Marcus watched Violet lead Harry by hand, and slipped back towards the bar. Behind him, he heard a soft squeak and the rushing sounds of cars, the hum of the city. Lana's face poked through the door, and then it swung open thanks to Connor's paw of a hand. She stumbled in, holding two paper cups of coffee. "Hey," she said and tripped forward. Marcus caught her, thankful the cups had lids. "Coffee." When she'd regained her balance, she pushed her glasses up, and let out a sigh. Marcus looked down at her feet.

"Why are you wearing heels?"

"All receptionists wear heels."

"You're walking around all the time, wouldn't pumps or some kinda soft shoes work? What with a baby on the way--"

"I'm not that pregnant yet so let me enjoy my legs looking good until my feet swell."

Marcus shrugged in defeat and sipped the coffee. "What's on the docket?" Lana walked with him towards the stairs.

"All the boys have booked slots, except for Violet--"

"He's with a walk-in now. Newbie."

"Oh, good," she said. "Day is fully booked then."

"Easy day," said Marcus, trying not to grimace at the sugarless coffee. "What's that look about?"

Lana was biting her lip. "Azalea's called in sick again."

"Again? No wonder Violet's got Eddy."

"Eddy gym guy Eddy?"

"Yeah. He's got a weird gym roleplay thing goin' on. Normally Azalea does it but--well--fuck it. Give him another day or two. I'll make a house call, see what's going on."

Azalea was one of the biggest attractions at Feminina--he was curvy in all the right places, with beautiful lashes, and a soft-spoken voice. Whenever there was a CEO in town, any entrepreneurs with deep pockets, or recurring high-priced lawyers, Azalea was their regular. Marcus chalked it up to his features, he was a pale half-Japanese that rarely followed the needs of his clients. While most of the boys were happy to accommodate many fantasies, many requests, Azalea remained stoic and mysterious, trying to convey an aura of something enigmatic, and that drove men wild. He was treated like royalty by many men who were revered in the business world, they'd grovel at his feet, begging for him to marry them. All these clients made him feel like something beautiful but forbidden, a modern Greek fairy-tale. Marcus wanted to believe that but in reality the boy knew how to fuck great and horny men tended to overthink anything without post-orgasm clarity.

"Yes, boss," said Lana.

"It's Marcus. Stop calling me boss," he said.

Lana had taken over secretary duties since Hannah had moved to Oregon. It was a personal favour, through Marcus' sister-in-law. When Lana's husband had divorced her, he'd forgotten to mention he'd rinsed their savings through his gambling addiction. Lana had been struggling to make ends meet for almost a year when she'd met her new boyfriend, James Hanlon, a police officer in Las Vegas. With a baby on the way, and working double shifts at a diner in Vegas and close to a mental breakdown, Lana had confided in Jessica who had hounded Marcus to give her a shot. She was still on probation but so far was proving to be even more competent than Hannah. She still wasn't used to seeing naked femboys walking around, or the seediness of the work, but he saw she was trying her damndest to make it work, and that was all that mattered to him.

"Yes, boss."

Marcus sighed. "The boys know their timetable. Also, I need you to head over to Sports Clique to pick up a new sports-bra and pants for Violet. Iris lost the bottoms I think. His booking's at two so if you can do that before anything else."

"I'll put it on the list."

"What day is it?"

"Thursday."

"Ah shit, I have a meeting at three."

"It's not on the calender," said Lana as she looked at her phone. "Your schedule is clear for--" She looked at him. "Oh it's the guy."

He nodded. "He's hard to miss. Send him up to the office when he arrives."

"I'll head out now for Violet. I might even grab lunch."

"I don't pay you to eat on my time, Lana." His smile faded.

"I'm sorry," she looked down. "I was just--I didn't mean--"

He put his hand on her arm. "I'm jokin'," he said and then turned away. "Never get between a pregnant woman and food. Just make sure Violet gets that suit before two or he'll have a tantrum."

Lana smiled at him as he walked up the stairs. He'd settled into his office for almost five minutes when he sensed that there would be another so-called emergency at any moment and so he lit up a cigarette and stared out down the main stretch of Hiko Falls, savouring the moments of peace. Whenever Jimmy came calling, he'd have to put on that fake smile and pretend he enjoyed his company; tolerate the terrible jokes, the idle business chitchat that he didn't give a single fuck about unless it fucked with his finances. It was a necessary obligation, he thought. If it meant keeping his business alive. The minutes passed like seconds as he heard a knock on his door.

"Come in."

Tulip walked in and shut the door. He was from Korea, with with luscious mane of black hair, currently tied up in two buns with chopsticks. A silky, floral patterned Kimono hung on his frame. Marcus blinked and looked at his face, all pure white made to resemble a geisha.

"Marcus, we must speak."

"I can't help it if somebody wants a Japanese roleplay, Tu. You chose the guy."

He looked down at himself. "No. Not this. I can't work tomorrow. It is important."

"Why not?"

"Well--my father is coming into town and I'd like to go out for a meal with him, show him the city a little. We haven't talked since I came out and well--things were rocky but he's really making an effort to try and see me after all this time. He can't stay in town for long but I just thought I'd ask."

Marcus slumped down in his chair. "Speak to Lana, reschedule your clients," he said as Tulip smiled and stepped halfway out the door. "But hey," he yelled. "Be nice to her about it."

Tulip nodded and bowed.

"Don't do the bow," he said with a pained sigh.

"I apologize, daddy."

"Stop listening to Violet as well," he yelled as Tulip closed the door.

Jimmy arrived later than expected. He'd stepped into the office, and Marcus couldn't help but immediately find his whole appearance irritating. His slick black suit, and slick black hair screamed shady criminal, if the gold rings on each finger didn't already. Inconspicuous wasn't a word he was aware of.

"There he is," said Jimmy as Marcus stepped around the desk and took his hand. Jimmy engulfed him in a hug, and planted a kiss on his cheek. "How's things?"

"Things are good," said Marcus as he wiped at his cheek. "How's it back in the big city?"

"It's too fuckin' hot and it's not even Summer yet."

Marcus feigned a laugh. "You want a drink?"

Jimmy raised his hand. "I'm good."

He slumped into the chair opposite the desk as Marcus slid open the bottom drawer, and pulled out the red tin box. "Business is good for now."

"These little twinks sure love their dress up. I just saw one a them in a maid outfit. Almost had me goin' for a second."