Witness Ch. 02

"Robert, this is Mister Granger, please introduce yourself," Poppy pointed at Elliot, her nervousness evident.

She gave Elliot a beseeching look.

"Pleased to meet you Mister Granger, I'm Robert Evesham," the boy extended his hand.

Elliot took the boy's hand and shook it.

"Call me Elliot, Robert," Elliot smiled down at the kid and then looked across at Poppy.

"Mister Granger drove me from work today because I have an important meeting to attend this afternoon, that's why I can't stay overnight with you in town," Poppy said, as much for Elliot's benefit as for Robert's.

"Let's go visit over there on our favourite bench. Mister Granger can sit just over there, a little away from us. How's that?" Poppy asked Robert who nodded enthusiastically.

"Now... Mrs Frobisher tells me you are making good grades, how is everything else going?" Poppy asked the boy leading him away towards the bench.

Her love for the boy was evident and the boy's adoration for Poppy was obvious and he made no attempt to hide it. Elliot took a seat on a bench a respectful distance from them and studied them. They were extremely comfortable with each other's company and their love for each other was manifested in their gestures and their constant touching. The visit lasted three hours and they talked constantly, the only interruption was when a school employee brought them sandwiches and iced tea. He offered Elliot the same refreshments but Elliot gave a polite no.

"Goodbye Mister Granger, thank you for bringing Penelope to visit," Robert extended his hand to Elliot when it was time to leave.

Elliot gave Poppy a wry smile when Robert called her Penelope and she gave him a 'don't you dare' glare in return.

Elliot turned away to give them some privacy as they hugged and kissed each other goodbye, Poppy wiping lipstick off Robert's cheek before she let him go.

The return journey was silent for the first hour.

"Not your son obviously," Elliot broke the silence.

Poppy scowled at him and he smiled.

"Your brother?" Elliot raised his brows.

Poppy nodded.

"So... your mother? Your father? Other family?" Elliot turned to her.

Poppy just shook her head and looked out the window steadfastly.

Elliot said nothing for a while and then suddenly slammed on the brakes and pulled into a dusty parking area on the side of the interstate just as he had before. Poppy raised her hands to protect her face, expecting another beating.

Elliot gently lowered her arms and studied her face. She looked back at him, her face devoid of emotion.

"Jesus! No drugs. No pimp. The apartment. The law books. The accent. You're hooking to put your brother through school," Elliot sighed.

Poppy's expression didn't change.

"Why? You're smart, you're articulate, you're... well you're beautiful..." he let the question trail off.

"How many transgender legal secretaries or businesswomen have you met? How else am I going to make enough money to give him the education and the care that he deserves?" Poppy glared at him and Elliot looked away.

He put the car in gear and continued driving. It was dusk when they arrived back at the safe house but Poppy insisted on going for a run so Elliot had no choice but to go with her. When they returned they showered and Poppy came out of her bedroom dressed in her usual attire, short skirt, crop-top, heels and nylons. Her makeup was heavy and she'd frizzed out her hair.

"Why do you dress like that?" he asked her for the thousandth time.

"It reminds me of who I am. It reminds me of what I am," she replied matter-of-factly and began to make dinner.

Elliot shook his head and turned on the TV. Namath was past his heyday but he was still quarterbacking for the Jets and Elliot was a fan. Poppy made sandwiches and coleslaw which they ate in front of the TV drinking cold beer. Elliot explained some of the finer points of the game to her but Poppy seemed tired and distracted.

She started to doze and fell against him, her head on his shoulder.

Elliot's instinct was to push her off him but he stopped himself from doing so, instead he settled back into the cushions and Poppy lay with her head on his chest fast asleep while he watched the remainder of the game. He absentmindedly stroked her hair and she smiled in her sleep and snuggled up to him.

Poppy awoke with start and quickly sat up, looking around startled and ready to defend herself, her hands covering her face.

"Oh... I'm here," she said, regaining her composure.

She got up and cleared away the dishes and cleaned up. Elliot decided that one more beer wouldn't affect his reflexes. He checked to make sure the place was locked up securely, the alarm set and settled back down the couch.

Poppy sat across from him in the big overstuffed lounge chair, her knees drawn up under her chin.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?" Elliot studied her.

"You know for what. He thinks I'm a hotshot lawyer with a big law firm in the city. I'm too busy with work to look after him full-time so he has to go to boarding school," Poppy answered one of Elliot's unasked questions.

"What does he know?" Elliot asked intrigued at how she maintained the ruse.

"He knows I'm transgender but I've always been his big sister. I was already presenting as female when he was born. He's smart enough to know not to talk about it," Poppy shrugged.

"What about the holidays, surely you can't bring him home?" Elliot pressed on.

"I'm an enterprising young woman. I visit him once a month and we stay overnight at a nice bed and breakfast near the school. During the big holidays I take him away somewhere nice but where I can still work after he's gone to bed. I can make enough money selling my ass to pay for our holiday in places like Tahoe, AC, Chicago or LA."

"I'm a doting sister during the day and a whore by night. It's tiring but it pays the bills and he wants for nothing," Poppy said pragmatically.

"There's more to it. How did you end up living like you do and with custody of your brother?" Elliot asked.

"That's a story for another day," Poppy smiled.

She got out of her chair, stretched and yawned.

"Thanks for today," she surprised him when she leaned in and kissed his cheek.

Elliot didn't recoil; instead he took her wrist and held her there.

"I misjudged you. I shouldn't have insulted you and I certainly shouldn't have beat you," he gave her a meaningful look and Poppy just shrugged.

"It's what I expected. It's what I am," she looked away from him.

Elliot pulled her back to him and kissed her softly on the lips and she let him, leaning over him and keeping perfectly still.

"Good night," she whispered, breaking the kiss.

She took back her hand and padded off to her bedroom, her heels dangling by the straps from her hand.

Elliot was sleeping fitfully when he heard his bedroom door open. He intuitively reached for the 9mm automatic on his bedside table and then he smelled Poppy's perfume. He rolled over and saw her framed by the light of the corridor briefly before she closed the door behind her.

She crept silently over to his bed and lifted the covers and slid in beside him.

"What..." Elliot muttered.

"Shh," Poppy put a finger to his lips in the dark room.

She snuggled up to him and put her leg over his. Elliot was naked except for his boxers and Poppy was wearing rayon babydoll pyjamas and pantyhose. The pantyhose were a precaution to keep herself tucked because she knew that Elliot would not want to feel her penis. The silky nylon hosiery felt delightful against his skin.

As did the soft silky rayon of her pyjama top and before Elliot could say anything Poppy clambered onto his body and pressed her lips to his. He instinctively put his arms around her body and held her. She kissed him again and then put her head on his chest.

"Are you ok with this?" she whispered in the dark.

Elliot didn't answer; instead he lifted her face to his and kissed her. He knew that she was different to other women but all he could feel was her plump breasts pressed against his chest, her smooth skin on his flesh and her tight buttocks which he cupped in his hands.

He squeezed her buttocks and caressed her thighs. She froze when his fingers grazed the front of her panties and she took his hand away and guided it back to her breasts.

She moaned quietly when his hands went inside her top and stroked her breasts. He tweaked her nipples as they hardened to his touch. Their kisses became more passionate and Elliot put his tongue in Poppy's mouth and she met it with her own. She felt his cock, hard and hot, pressing against her through his shorts and she rolled off him so that she was lying sideways against him and had access to his groin.

Her fingers found him proud and throbbing when she freed him from his shorts and Elliot lowered his mouth to her breast, suckling her nipple, causing her to sigh contentedly.

They remained silent, letting their fingers and their mouths express their feelings. Poppy kissed him deeply, thrusting her tongue into Elliot's mouth as she gripped his cock and began to stroke it. She smiled when he groaned and felt the pre-ejaculate begin to dribble from his glans.

Elliot caressed her flat stomach through the satiny garment and his fingers worked down to her pelvis and she firmly redirected it to her thighs. Elliot tickled her thighs while he suckled her breasts and Poppy gasped as did Elliot when she squeezed his throbbing cock.

They kissed and caressed each other, taking their time, exploring each other's bodies but Poppy steadfastly refused to let Elliot put his hands anywhere near her pubis. She was erect and her penis was uncomfortable taped to her perineum but she was prepared to put up with the discomfort rather than suffer Elliott's disgust at her repulsive genitalia.

When Poppy broke the kiss and began to explore his body with her mouth and her tongue Elliot was at first disappointed but when she nuzzled his neck and licked and kissed his chest he lay back and was content to let Poppy do what she was expert at doing.

She licked his hard belly with her tongue and her soft lips, making Elliot squirm and then she took him in her mouth and cupped his scrotum.

She used her tongue on his glans and her lips on his shaft masterfully and in such a way that Elliot had never felt before. The feeling was wondrous and his hands went to her head to guide her but she impatiently pushed them away. She was an expert fellatrix and needed no guidance.

Elliot began to gasp and writhe on the bed as Poppy fellated him in ways he hadn't dreamed possible, the feelings of bliss she illicited from his throbbing organ were mind-bending. Three times she bought him to extremis and then backed off and started all over again, teasing him, bewitching him.

He couldn't help for a fleeting second thinking that this is what she was paid to do. This was her calling. She was a whore.

The thought disappeared as Poppy suckled him in such a fashion that he was unable to hold back his orgasm and his cock exploded in her mouth. Poppy swallowed the musky offering whilst continuing to work her tongue and lips on his phallus, she squeezed his scrotum and sucked every drop of his seed from him.

She continued to suckle him even as his penis began to slowly deflate. Elliot lay exhausted on the bed, recovering from the most tremendous orgasm he had ever experienced. Poppy let his flaccid penis fall from her mouth and she tucked it back inside his shorts. She worked her way slowly back up his body until she was face to face with him.

When she tried to kiss him he pushed her face away. He just couldn't do it. He was seized by post-coital regret and he just wanted her to go.

She sensed it and unwrapped herself from his body and got out of the bed.

"Call it payment for being nice to my brother today," she whispered from the door.

"Don't go," Elliot called after her but it was too late, she had closed the door behind her.

She'd heard what he said through the closed door and knew that it was just guilt; Elliot was glad that she was gone.

She climbed into her own bed and relieved herself before falling into a deep dreamless sleep. She wasn't disappointed with Elliot. Poppy expected men to treat her this way. They couldn't wait to feel her body against theirs and then they couldn't wait for her to leave once they were sated.

Elliot came to her bedroom door in the early hours and opened it and looked at her sleeping. She looked beautiful and serene and he hated himself for being thankful that she was not awake so he would not have crawl into her bed and whisper lies into her ear.

He couldn't sleep for the rest of the night and finally fell asleep exhausted just before dawn.

The next morning Poppy was dressed in her running gear as usual: black lycra tights, matching sleeveless top, running shoes and ponytail sticking through the back of her ball cap. She was sipping orange juice and rearing to go. Elliot was not as enthusiastic but he went back into his bedroom to change when he saw her dressed in her PT gear.

At least they wouldn't have to talk, he thought, as they set out on their run. Poppy was behaving as if nothing had happened last night although her usual small talk was not evident.

Elliot took station behind her and as much as he tried not to he couldn't help but look at her tight ass clad in the tight lycra. He recalled the things she did to him with her mouth last night and he was glad he was wearing baggy shorts.

They got to the turnaround point which was a small beachfront park with a drinking fountain and they headed over to it both parched.

Poppy stood aside so Elliot could go first, she was panting, bent over with her hands on her knees.

"Ladies first please," he too was bent at the waist and taking deep breaths.

"You go. You won't want to use it after I've had my mouth on it," she said caustically.

"Here we fucking go! I was waiting for this," Elliot whined.

"Waiting for what?" Poppy said innocently.

"You know what I mean. Reprisals for me turning you out of my bed last night," Elliot breathed deeply.

"Nothing that I didn't expect. Most whores don't expect to stay the night," Poppy said sarcastically.

Poppy didn't know why she was so upset. Elliot had behaved exactly as she had expected him to. It's not as if there was anything between them.

Elliot lost his temper and pushed Poppy against the wall of the ablutions block next to the drinking fountain.

"I didn't call you a whore last night," he glowered.

"You didn't need to, it was unspoken," Poppy glared at him.

"Fucking hell Poppy I don't know what's going on with you," Elliot let go of her shoulders.

"You're an enigma. You told me to call last night payment for taking you to see your brother. You're obviously intelligent, you love your brother, you're enchanting and amazing when you want to be but most of the time you're a... you're a..." Elliot was lost for words.

"I'm a shit stain. Maybe I need another beating," Poppy ducked under Elliot's arm and started sprinting back the way they had come.

Elliot took after her and caught her, crash-tackling her off the path and onto the beach. He pinned her down on the sand and straddled her as she fought him, lashing out at his eyes with her nails. Elliot grabbed her wrists and pinned her arms back behind her head.

"Time for that beating?" she goaded him.

Robert looked down at her face. She still had her mascara, eyeliner and lipstick on from last night and it had run. It made her look sexy.

"Shut up!" Elliot snapped and lowered his face to her and kissed her.

She fought him briefly, trying to turn her face away and then she capitulated and put her arms around his neck and returned the kiss.

"Now what?" Poppy panted into his mouth when they stopped kissing.

An elderly couple walked past hand in hand and smiled at them.

Elliot was still straddling her.

"We go back to the house," Elliot panted his reply.

"Then what?" Poppy asked, not letting him off the hook.

"I don't know. We talk I suppose," Elliot got off her and helped Poppy to her feet.

"Talk about what?" she wouldn't let it go.

"We talk of many things: of shoes and ships and sealing-wax, of cabbages and kings," Elliot brushed the sand off his knees.

"Don't be facetious!" she berated him.

He spun Poppy around and brushed the sand off her back and legs, taking longer than was needed on her bottom.

"Hey, hands off my fanny," Poppy slapped his hand away.

"Come on, keep up Penelope," Elliot slapped her on the ass and took off down the track laughing.

"Don't you dare call me Penelope!" she called out and ran after him.

They both showered when they got home and Elliot was surprised when Poppy came out of her bedroom dressed in a bright summer dress and sandals. She had toned down her makeup and her hair was still wet from the shower.

Elliot was sitting on the couch wearing shorts and a t-shirt sipping coffee. He'd poured her a cup and it sat steaming on the coffee table. When she went to sit in the lounge chair he caught her wrist and hauled her down beside him and pulled her close. She put her feet up on the couch and he handed her the coffee.

"Brett Mendelsohn won't be here until later this afternoon so that leaves you all day to tell me," Elliot stroked her damp hair.

"Tell you what?" she looked up at him.

"Everything," Elliot leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"In that case I'll need something stronger than coffee," Poppy said.

"It's not even ten o'clock," Elliot cautioned her but she gave him a reproachful look.

He came back to the couch with a glass of scotch which he put on the table. When he sat back down Poppy lifted her head and put it back in his lap and curled her legs under her.

She told him her life story.

...

Poppy had been born Paul Evesham to middle-class suburbanites who treated him as their pride and joy. He was raised in comfort wanting for nothing. He went to the right school and had the right friends.

By the age of six Paul was displaying signs of gender dysphoria. Terms such as transgender and gender dysphoria were not yet being used but Paul's mother recognised that Paul was special.

He showed some classic symptoms. He preferred to sit to urinate and he preferred to play with girls rather than boys and to play with girl's toys when they visited with friends and family who had daughters. He would sometimes wear their clothes and play dressup. His mother noted other nuances about her son that exhibited subtle femininity.

Margaret Evesham saw these things in her son whilst his father, Daniel Evesham, only noted his son's budding proficiency in track and field events and his dexterity when roughhousing with other children. Daniel and Margaret were visiting friends and ten year old Paul was upstairs playing with their friend's daughter. Daniel went up to check on his son because the children had been upstairs now for quite some time and they were suspiciously quiet.

He found Paul dressed in a frilly dress, tights, and Mary Jane's, with his hair brushed out and an otherwise hilarious attempt at makeup. The two 'girls' were holding a tea party with their dollies. Daniel blamed Margaret for mollycoddling his son.

Paul was already calling himself Penelope and dreaming of being a girl instead of a boy when this incident occurred. Margaret and Daniel's marriage was already shaky; Daniel was philandering and Margaret was using alcohol to numb the pain.

Daniel left Margaret when Paul was twelve, leaving them destitute and homeless when he sold the house out from under her and cut her off from his bank accounts. Margaret and Paul moved into a cheap apartment and the luxuries and good schools went by the wayside. Margaret had to go back to work as a real estate agent and she was a minnow in a shark tank, a good looking recently divorced woman approaching middle-age who was a lush, looking for affection and needing money.