Tranny Babysitter: Force Femme

"Nail salon, then hairdressers." She pointed at me, "You'll have to do the 'sore throat' act again at the nail salon, but the hairdresser's a fag, so he won't care that you're a man."

"What do Rashida and I need a hairdresser for? We're wearing wigs."

"Jonas will trim them to suit your face and neck and make it look more natural. Besides, this is another chance to be seen. Some of Courtney's WAG competition will be there. We're going to make them green with envy. Especially when the four of us start turning up at sponsor dos together."

The Uber arrived quickly. As women do, we all got into the back seat. Hannah made me sit in the middle.

With my feet parted, and an ultra-short skirt on, I was flashing the driver again. Rashida and Hannah put a hand each on my inner thigh, up near my knicker line.

Trying to go hard in a gaff is almost as bad an idea as trying to go hard when your balls are taped down.

My discomfort didn't stop the cabdriver's obvious arousal, though. He surreptitiously adjusted the rear view mirror so he could peer up my skirt.

Once again, I felt a woman's power over a man's lust and libido.

The driver covered his erection with his hand, then began playing with himself as he watched Rashida and Hannah stroke their fingers over my 'pussy'.

Arriving at the nail salon, I was given another card, so I could 'call me whenever you need a lift somewhere, especially when you're alone because I want you to be safe'.

Safe from whom, though?

The nail salon was interesting. If any of the women working there noticed, or were bothered by, three transwomen being there, they didn't show it. Hannah chose a red to match my blush for my nails and had the lady put 1-inch acrylic nails on both hands. I quite liked how they looked. I kept admiring them in the light.

After completing our manicure and pedicure, with matching polish on my exposed toes, we walked the 100 metres or so to the hairdressers.

"Remember, heel in front of the toe," Hannah hissed at me as I strode off.

Embarrassed, I slowed down and began the hip snake sway walk that Hannah and Courtney had insisted I learned. Now that I was aware of it, I noticed very few women walked anywhere in a hurry. It seemed the prettier they were, the slower they walked.

Rashida whispered, "Put a little smile on your face as if to say, 'I know I'm gorgeous, and I know you're looking at my tits and ass, and I don't care'."

I tried it. The effect was fucking amazing. Men turned to gawp, women, who weren't in our league, grimaced, then quickly walked off. Man after man tried to catch my eye but I ignored them all.

"When a man tries to make eye contact, look at him, blink your eyes twice rapidly, hold them a little wider open, and then smile a little more fully before looking away as if you're embarrassed," Rashida advised.

I tried it. We had men walking into light poles, tripping over rubbish bins, and tripping over their own feet. One guy almost walked out in front of a bus he was ogling so severely.

"More fun than being ignored when you look, isn't it?" Rashida asked as she winked at a guy who blew her a kiss.

It sure as fuck was!

Jonas sat us together at the front of the salon. We were in clear view of every passer-by. He handed us a glass of champagne each.

I still wasn't overly keen on the taste of wine.

Hannah was first onto the chair as her hair was natural. Styling and colouring it would take the longest. Hannah had decided a change was in order. After a lengthy discussion with Jonas, they decided to change from the natural blonde locks she had to Icy-blonde highlights with lowlights.

By the time Jonas had finished, If 10 is perfect on a scale of 1 - 10, Hannah looked a 12. The colour brought out her tanned complexion and emphasised her brown eyes.

Jonas did Rashida's next. He didn't do much, just moulded the wig closer around her face. Doing this made Rashida's face look a little thinner and less rounded.

I was last. Jonas trimmed quite a lot off my wig. The end product was a hairdo that followed the quite angular lines of my cheekbones and jaw before flaring wider to emphasise my long slender neck.

When he turned me to the mirror, I thought, 'Maybe even a 7, now.'

When he was done, and not letting Hannah hear, Jonas whispered, "You're fucking hot as. Call me if you want to be fucked by a poof that loves transgirls."

He slipped his business card into my shoulder bag.

"Time for some lunch," Hannah said.

It was nearly 2.00 pm.

"I think we might go to The Wickham. Let's see if any of the lesbians there find us attractive," Hannah added.

Brisbane has plenty of 'gay-friendly' bars, but only three are considered gay and/or lesbian hangouts. The Wickham was generally recognised as the lesbian venue, although they welcome all clientele.

We jumped in a cab to get from the city up to The Valley.

We three visited the conveniences to freshen up our lippy and makeup. I needed a wee, as well. I'm sure my balls appreciated being let free, even if it was only for a few minutes. I ensured everything was tucked away before exiting the stool.

Going to the bar, I ordered three white wines. I had no idea what was a good wine and what wasn't, so I let the barkeep choose. He blinked twice at my deep masculine voice but said nothing. I'm pretty sure I wasn't the first tranny he had served.

As I waited, I felt some eyes on me. I turned to see a reasonably attractive middle-aged woman checking me out. As John, I probably wouldn't have taken a moment's notice, but I was curious whether a woman would find me attractive, so I smiled at her and gave her a slow wink.

She came over.

"I'm Sandra," she said. "I haven't seen you here before. How are you?"

I held a finger up and then mimed that I had a sore throat. Hannah had put a pen and notepad in my bag.

I quickly wrote: 'Throat operation, can't talk, sorry. First time I've been here for close to three years. I'm Olivia."

"Oh, that's no good," Sandra said. "Anything serious?"

'Just some polyps,' I wrote. 'Nothing to worry about. Just not allowed to talk for three weeks.'

Sandra smiled. Her smile lifted her from the 6 she was to at least a 6.5.

"That's okay," she laughed. "My ex-husband always told me that I talked enough for any two people."

'How long have you been divorced?' I wrote.

"The divorce came through on Friday," she answered. "But we've been separated for over two years. Bastard started fucking his secretary."

'Men, huh?' I penned.

"Yup, all assholes. That's why I decided to try women. Being with a woman is different, you know? Softer and more intense, I think I might like it."

Sandra seemed like a nice woman, I didn't want to lead her on, so I glanced around, cleared my throat, and said in my normal voice, "Sandra, I have a confession to make. I'm a transgirl."

"What the fuck is that?" Sandra asked.

"I'm a guy transitioning to female," I told her.

Fuck! Was I? I didn't think so, but it was how I was presenting.

Sandra appeared to be almost in tears.

"Listen, Olivia. If you don't find me attractive, say so. Don't give me your bullshit stories. I knew I wasn't in your league when I came over to talk. I just wanted a conversation."

I was dumbfounded. Couldn't she hear my voice?

"I'm serious, Sandra," I told her, trying to keep my voice down. "I have a penis. I'm not a biological woman."

"Bullshit!" Sandra exclaimed. "If you are, show me!"

"Out here, in front of everybody?" I asked.

"No, come with me to the loos."

I followed her to the women's toilet.

Sandra had a quick look around. There wasn't anyone standing at the mirrors, so she opened a cubicle door and ushered me inside.

"Well?" She asked.

Sighing, I hoisted my skirt above my hips and pulled my gaff down. My 7.5-inch cock fell into view.

"Fuck me," Sandra exclaimed. "I... I... well, fuck me!"

She reached out and took me in her hand. With pure lust on her features, Sandra sat on the seat and began to blow me.

Fuck! It was like amateur hour at the local 'open mike' night. Sandra couldn't take even a third of me in her mouth, and she was sucking way too softly, bobbing way slower than I had gotten used to since starting to have sex with males and transgirls.

I closed my eyes. A vision of Josh cumming inside my wife flashed behind my eyes. Imagining going down on Courtney and licking his sperm out of, and off of, my wife's cunt had me hard.

"At least I've still got it," Sandra said, obviously happy that she could still get a male hard.

I didn't have the heart to tell her how badly she sucked, literally.

"Would you like to taste me?" She asked.

"Sure," I told her.

We swapped positions. Sandra put a foot on the bowl so I could tongue her pussy.

I love eating snatch. It's the quickest way to a woman's orgasm. Or, at least, I used to. Sandra smelt... well... I hate to use a cliché... fishy. She tasted yeasty. All of the dicks that I had sucked so far had been well cleaned. There was no real taste to them. They just felt a little rubbery in my mouth.

The semen spurting from them was salty but had an almost sweet aftertaste. Once I'd gotten over the mental block of a man squirting his juices into my mouth, I had quite liked the taste. It was kind of like swallowing warmed raw oysters, followed by a suck of a lemon.

Sandra tasted... awful.

I lifted her bottom a little higher so I could tongue her ass.

She came as soon as I got my tongue onto her rosebud. I slipped two fingers inside her pussy and found her Gspot. Flicking my tongue across her clitoris, I made Sandra cum a second, then a third, time.

"Would you like to fuck me, Olivia?" Sandra asked.

"I'm sorry, honey, but the hormones I'm on means I can't stay hard enough long enough to be able to orgasm," I lied.

Sandra wrote her number on my notepad.

"If you want to play some more, give me a call, okay?"

"I will," I said, adding to my lie.

I made my way back to the table. Sandra left through the side door.

Hannah threw me a napkin.

"Wipe that slut's juices off your face, Miss. You better not have cum for that whore, because, if you did, you're in even bigger trouble than you are now. Wait until I tell Courtney what you've been doing. You know you're not allowed pussy anymore." Hannah told me.

"She wouldn't believe I wasn't a woman," I said defensively. "I only went in the loos to show her I had a dick."

"And you 'accidentally' tripped and fell into her vagina?" Hannah asked sarcastically.

I blushed.

"How did you find it?" Hannah asked.

"Fishy and yeasty," I muttered.

"Good girl," Hannah said. "You're learning. So, did you cum?"

"Worst blow job I've ever had," I told her. "I don't think I could have cum even if you were there fingering my ass as she did it."

Hannah favoured me with a smile, "You don't know it yet, because you're in denial, but you're already a faggot, honey."

I tried to refute her, but, in my heart, I knew she was right.

Now, I just wanted to go home. I felt teary and depressed. I didn't want to be gay. I didn't want to prefer dick to vagina. Even though our roles had been reversed, I wanted to see my wife and my kids. I wanted to talk to them and play with them.

I said so to Hannah.

"She's too busy being fucked for you to go home now. She texted me. Your mum called and said she would feed the kids and bring them home around 9.00 pm.

It's only 5.30 now, so she's still got 3 hours to wear your teammate out before sending him home well and truly fucked.

They do dinner here from 6.00 pm. We'll grab something to eat and hang out here until about 8.00 pm before getting an Uber back to Rashida's and driving home. That will ensure Josh is gone and you have enough time to change."

Feeling sad, I slumped back in the chair.

There was a band setting up in the courtyard, so we wandered out there and found a seat. It was only a cover band, but they were pretty good. The music helped to lift my spirits, and I began to bop my head to the beat.

Twice, going to the bar to get drinks, I was hit on by a woman. I touched my throat, then pointed at Hannah before writing, "Sorry, throat operation, can't talk. I'm here with my girlfriend, but thank you."

One of the women was quite butch, but the other was a pretty young thing, a 'lipstick lesbian', I think they call them. As John, I would have hit on her for sure, then tried to convince her to try dick when she indicated she preferred women.

A little later, after we had eaten, Hannah went to the women's. Rashida was off flirting with some guy she knew when a man approached me.

"May I have a dance, Miss?" he asked politely.

I looked him over. He was quite handsome, I decided. He had a bit of a 'Dad's bod', but he wasn't overweight, just not toned. The guy had a ready smile, even white teeth, and a smooth, tanned complexion. I guessed he was probably around twice my age of 24.

I wrote on the pad, "Sure, but do you mind waiting until my friend returns from the loos? I'm minding everyone's bags."

"Why are you writing that down, if I may ask?" He said.

"Throat op," I wrote. "3 weeks, no talking."

"Oh, okay," he answered. "Nothing serious, I hope?"

"Just polyps," I penned.

Hannah took a seat opposite us. Leaning back so the man couldn't see what I was doing, I mimed his desire to dance with me.

Hannah shooed me off with a big smile on her face. "Have fun," she said.

"I'm Bryce," he said, taking my hand.

"Olivia," I wrote. "Pleased to meet you."

"You're stunning," Bryce complimented.

I blushed, but I was delighted.

Dancing is something that I have always done well. But I usually take the lead. It's incredible how quickly you can melt a girl's resistance if you show her a few good moves on the dance floor. If you can make her look good, as I can, you're a shoo-in.

I wasn't sure how to follow. I'd never done it before. What was worse was that Bryce obviously couldn't dance.

'Fuck it,' I thought.

I took Bryce's right hand in my left and then pressed my body against his before putting my right hand on his shoulder. I was a little taller than Bryce, but not too much.

The band was playing Maroon 5's 'She will be Loved' well. It's a good song for a slow dance.

Bryce got the hint and placed his left hand on my hip. I knew it would only be a few minutes before it was on my ass.

Pulling on Bryce's right hand to get him moving in that direction, I pressed my hips to his, then slid them sideways in the direction of my hand. Bryce needed two of these hip slides before he clued in on needing to move with me.

Pressing his hips back at me, Bryce began to sway with me.

"Ready for a sideways step?" I whispered as softly as I could.

He nodded.

We added that movement to our dance.

Still speaking as gently and breathily as I could, I whispered, "Forwards, forwards, side side, back back, side side the opposite way, repeat."

It's the simplest dance there is. Anybody can do it. If you add a little hip sway in the same direction to your step and a shoulder dip the opposite way, in time to the music, you actually look like you know what you're doing.

Bryce's hand dropped to my ass. It felt good. He began to grind his hardening dick against me as we danced. That felt better.

The band saw us dancing well together and decided to do another slow song. It was an old favourite, 'Scarborough Fair' by Simon and Garfunkel.

Bryce pulled me closer, stopped our dance momentarily, stood up a little taller, and kissed me.

I saw stars. It felt so good. I felt so womanly, so feminine, that I shocked myself.

I let my lips part and allowed his tongue to find mine. He gently explored my mouth as he ground his now rampant dick against the lower half of my pelvis.

"Would you like to get out of here and take this further?" he whispered. "We'll have to go to yours. I share a flat and everyone's home."

I could hear the lie in his voice, 'Married, I'd bet.'

I didn't care. It's not like I was being faithful to my wife.

I motioned for him to follow me. We walked over to Hannah, hand in hand.

I whispered in Hannah's ear, "Bryce would like to take me somewhere to fuck, Mistress, may I?"

"Where are you going to go?" She asked. "His?"

I shook my head, "I'd guess he's married, Mistress. We have to go somewhere else."

Rashida had heard me and handed me a key to her place.

"The sheets were fresh on last night and haven't been slept on at all. Go mess them up, you slut," she said with a huge smile.

I showed Bryce the key, and we left. Hailing a cab, we were soon at Roger's place.

I opened the door and whispered, "I'm sorry about the mess, but Rashida's a bit of a grub. She says the sheets are clean, though."

Bryce pulled me in for another kiss and reached for my left breast. I couldn't let him touch them as it would have been obvious they weren't real.

Breaking the kiss, I dropped to my knees and undid his trousers. Pulling Bryce's briefs down exposed an uncircumcised 6.5-inch cock. I greedily sucked it down, and my lips hit his hairy pubis in one quick swallow.

Above me, Bryce stripped his shirt off, then grabbed my head and began to fuck my mouth.

Grateful for Rashida showing me how to attach the wig firmly enough to stand this type of assault, I formed my lips into an 'O', spread my tongue as wide as I could, grabbed Bryce's hips, and then encouraged him to fuck my mouth as hard as he could.

With my tongue flattened, most of Bryce's dick was covered. This sensation proved to be too much for him. With a pig-like grunt, he came into my mouth.

I accepted it all.

Tipping my head back, I showed him I had taken all his ejaculate in my mouth. I then closed my mouth and made a blatant display of swallowing, then opened it to show I had gulped it all.

"Fuck me," he groaned. "You're such a hot slut!"

Taking my hands, Bryce dragged me to my feet, kicked his feet out of his trousers, let go long enough to lose his shoes and socks, and then led me across to the bed.

"If you suck me some more and maybe play with my ass, it won't be long before I can go again," he said.

I took my shoes off and then dropped my bright blue knickers. Twirling them on my fingers, I flung them across Bryce's face. He grabbed them and then smelt them appreciatively.

"Hmmm, so sweet," he moaned.

"I'm on my monthlies," I whispered. "You'll have to fuck me in the ass, is that okay?"

"Fuck, yes," Bryce moaned.

I took two steps over and flicked off the light. I was going to take my gaff off, and I didn't want Bryce to see that I had a cock and balls instead of a vagina.

"Aww," he protested. "I want to watch as I penetrate you."

"I'm a little shy," I whispered breathily. "Please fuck me in the semi-light like this."

The curtains were open, so the ambient light was enough to see vaguely.

"Do you want me to prepare your ass, baby," Bryce asked.

I figured I could probably cup my balls up out of the way, but I didn't want to take the risk.

"I bleed fairly heavily," I lied. "I'd hate you to lick any menstrual blood off me accidentally. Why don't you let me use my mouth to get your beautiful cock hard and wet, then I'll lube it and my ass up, and you can fuck me."

Not giving him a choice, I pushed him on his back, then took his cock back in my mouth. Slipping my finger onto his rosebud and rimming him as I held the base of his shaft and gently ran my tongue over and around his cock's head, I soon had Bryce harder than taking a pack mark in the pouring rain.

I reached into the top drawer of Roger's bedside table. Being gay, I knew Roger probably had lube and condoms in there.

I was able to find both.

I didn't bother with the condom as I wanted to experience the full feeling of a straight man taking my ass as his.