Ghost Stories

1

Sydd had promised herself not to get involved—not that she was scared—though, if she had any sense she should be...it was just that, what was past—well—should be... 'past'....

Perri had reappeared—like a vision—not a 'sprite.' There was nothing spritely here in this apparition. No odes to youth and springtime. There was something of a cold edge here—a sinister slice, so-to-speak, that said 'delete the email,' 'respond to no texts,' 'take no calls'. The past is the past.

Perri had reappeared. More like a ghost from that past; from out of somewhere—or nowhere—or so it seemed.

For anyone else with any sense who knew Sydd, it was obvious—all too obvious—that she was a wmn with a past—a vastly chequered past at that, that included women—genetic women. It might have been difficult to forget that Sydd was once male—then again, maybe not that difficult at all.

Perri, that past—that history—posed fundamental questions about what it might mean to be transgendered; about the assumptions made about this 'state of being'...even by the transgendered themselves....

So...there she was, this 'blast from the past'—a virtual beginning in the conception of—good word that, given the sexual nature of these beginnings—and as much, the instigation of one Sydian Onyx Black. Yep, Perri had been there at the very moment of the 'Big Bang'. Some might have even accused her of having lit the 'fuse'....A very interesting notion indeed.

***

They had grown up together. Back then it was the very pretty girl—actually Perri was not 'pretty'...it was in fact her look, her air, her confidence—the seductiveness of her being, that had inspired Sydd's own look and carriage....no, neither of them could be defined as 'pretty'—both would reject the term. They settled for exactly what they were: sensually seductive... 'stunning' is, in fact, more apropos....

But, we digress. This is about 'then'—about when it was about to 'start'. Two kids, one a girl—decidedly 'cute', and a boy—a black boy—who was a proto-dork. There was some chemistry that took them all the way through high school and that raised questions among their peers as to what she 'saw' in him. He wasn't simply all brain, though. He was a runner—a very good runner, along with that fast-assed sister of his. Perri had always secretly wondered about her, too—fantasized about her. But then she got distracted—distracted when she found out that he truly wasn't 'all brain'....when she discovered his cock—that 'huge cock', she once moaned....High school...high school...high school....

That was the summer before college when she truly rocked his world...and she knew it.... He knew it. She couldn't have been aware of how profound an effect she had had until they bumped into each other in a different city years after college....

***

Sitting in a snow-bound train overlooking an ice-flossed river dusted with snow....trees and brush as far as the eye can see, ethereally frosted...into an urban winterscape that curved along the lakeside, Sydian mused about that many year ago chance encounter—or what seemed to be 'chance' then....

A couple of years out of college, between her military service and graduate and law school, they 'bumped' into each other....and in the bumping and grinding that ensued, Perri both re-seduced and recruited Sydd into a potentially quite dangerous business. It took a while for it to register that Perri was quite a dangerous woman—in fact, on the scale of it all, a tad bit more dangerous than Sydian O. Black could ever have been imagined to have been....

Sydd was part of the military lottery. Her luck had been to finish college early and to do so before the draft had ended. She attempted to hedge her bets—when her number was called—or right before—she preempted the process and joined the Marine Corps. Somewhere, in basic, where it was determined that this slender, wiry, black reed of thing was not only not to be fucked with, but was also an inspired ass-kicker, she—then he—was offered the possibility of special training in intelligence with the promise of a commission. It all worked out, and two years later our grl—still a guy—mustered out with the rank of captain.

Yes, it was a quick tour of duty. Imagine being black in today's Marine Corps and then project that back a couple of decades....imagine a few too many taunts, slurs, and physical slights, and then an explosive, yet subtle response, to their accumulated weight. That the discharge was honorable was due in part to three things: first, an extremely high degree of intellectual acumen—yep! Grlfriend was smart, even back then. Second, Sydd was trained as a special operations officer—a black, black ops, if you will. Her training had taught her how to kill, how to maim, how to hurt. Most importantly, however, it had taught her how to instill fear....

This leads us to the third and last point of this successful foray that led to a discharge with honor. Though she left her 'calling card'—those who were the 'objects' of her mayhem knew unequivocally that it was her/him—how else to really inspire fear and send the message that 'you should never even dream of fucking with me?'— as an intelligence officer, she did what the best intelligence officers do. She anticipated every possible scenario she could and then prepared for the 'worst' cases by collecting data on everyone up the chain of command who might even remotely affect the outcome of whatever consequences lay before her.

In short, when she was summoned to the CO's office, there was no Board of Inquiry, no charges from the JAG Corps. Only a terse 'sign this Marine.' Then, before she spun to exit service for the last time, the CO confided: 'That was a fuckin' brilliant set of maneuvers...shame you're leaving...our friggin' loss....'

Those were memories on a snowbound train along a glazed lake overlooking a frozen river....

***

2

Now, out of a fantastical winter whiteness, a spectre reappears—a 'ghost' from her past....

It was a warm, early spring evening in a city big enough to get lost in—to be lost in.... It was somewhere before a short, nappy blonde do, and stilettos—though they were closer than even Sydd might have imagined. It was well before the permanency of a set of carefully crafted 34Cs. But even then, Sydd was feeling her sexual otherness.

O....she loved smart, pretty black women—in fact, she loved all kinds of women made that much more attractive by their intelligence. She—still he—had even had encounters—a few, in fact, with males. But what was becoming even more intriguing and alluring was that world 'in between': the world of the transgendered that was just beginning to 'surface', so-to-speak.

That spring evening, walking out of the office of a clerkship that paid nothing, or next to it, Sydd turned the corner and literally ran into Perri....

***

Briefs—the legal kind—scattered all over the sidewalk...what might have been important papers would have blown away if she had not 'instructed' him to stop gawking....

It was a look—her look—the way in which he/she supposed that only she could look....it said: 'that mouth could be put to much better uses'—as she stooped—long, long legs sweeping up, up, up, under a too, too short pin-striped, pencil skirt to a v that he could only re-imagine—to help him gather the papers...

***

They stepped into a cool, dimly lit bar; took a booth in the farthest reaches of the back...before he could speak she put her finger to his lips, and then her lips to his....

Then she spoke before he could....

'You're thinking this is 'coincidental'...nothing is 'coincidence'—not even when it's given to chance—and certainly not this....It was only a matter of time before I'd find you....and yes...I've been looking....'

His first reaction was to be flattered. The first love of his life had sought him out after all these years. But, years, and training would teach him/her never to make such an assumption again....

Her hand sought his beneath the table, brought it to rest on the warmth of her thigh....

'Yes...I've been looking—for more reasons than you can imagine. I've looked since I last saw you—how many years ago? And now, this time, I've been looking because it's my job....'

His head began to swim as she slid his hand further up her thigh....through the words and the sensation, he could make no sense of it at all....

Then she said: 'I need your help....' And he was shocked back into the here and now.

'My help,' he stumbled...?

'Mmmmhmm,' she replied with a measured nonchalance. Then she began to tell him things about himself that he thought very few people knew, or at the very least that very few would have taken the time to put together. She talked about his military career; his skills. And then said she needed them—him.

He felt himself pulling away. She stopped him with a sentence: 'It's not a game, Sweetheart....' That night, she convinced him of what she did, and who she was. She convinced him to work with her 'just this once'.... Then, she convinced him even more....

***

3

Winter night. She stood gazing out the floor-to-ceiling window that made up one wall of the condo. The view was the river, half frozen, spilling into the lake. Phone calls. Texts. Emails.... Sydd wondered if a special delivery parcel might not be next—the delivery person rapping on the condo door; perhaps marching into the her suite at the firm. Nope, the latter wasn't Perri's style.... Perri understood the strategy of 'attrition'....Sydd would be 'worn down'.... 'water torture' was the more fitting metaphor here.

***

'This is a national security issue. It ain't the highest level, but in the notion of what's accretive—what builds up—it has the possibility to grow. And I can't let it grow....'

He looked at her, confused, yet growing a bit more defiant at every turn.

He started. 'Perri, why in the world would you think I would want to do anything for this government? If you know me—and you say you do—from way back, to now—why in the world would you think I'd help—even you...?' He trailed off....

'Because....' The pause was long and pregnant—too pregnant—birthing twins...triplets...even quadruplets....

'Because...

'You love your peeps....'

Hadn't heard that in a long time...the term, the phrasing, the cadence....

Perri sighed. 'I don't just know you from childhood; I don't just know your military record or the fact that your were regarded as the best intelligence prospect in your cadre....I know what you do now...I even have some inkling of desires: Law-school boy doing shit-level clerking so you can represent the 'poor''....Well... I'm offering you the chance to do that...and a bit more...before it gets to court....if ever.... She sighed again....

***

'It's simple...but it's complicated....' She began. 'We need information. It's information that could stop this muthafuka from pumping any more of his shit into our communities. But it won't be easy. And that's why I need you....'

He was still bewildered.

'I told you that I know more about you than anyone else should.... I know what you want to hide most.... Maybe, just maybe, I can help you get over it. Maybe, I can help you embrace it....'

This set him on edge like nobodies' business. His military records, yes. School, yes. His law interests, OK; even their childhood. But now, the intimation that she was privy to what was most intimate to him; about him—to what he might have regarded as his 'deepest secrets'....that was a bit too much. He rose to leave....

'You're pretty as a girl,' she said softly.... 'Actually, not 'pretty'.... Stunning....

'Dress for me....'

That stopped him where he stood....

***

She led him to a closet in her flat; opened the door. Rows and rows of feminine stuff...more women's shoes than he had ever seen in life—at least in one closet....

'The clothes all fit—the shoes...never....' she laughed. 'All this has been waiting for this moment...and you....'

All he could do was stare...and stare....

***

4

Her hands ran up his back. Shocks and shivers ran down. She tugged his shirt from the waistband of his pants; slid her arms round his waist from behind to undo his belt, thumb his button, unzip his fly...they fell to the floor noiselessly as she nipped his ear, whispering, 'dress for me....'

It was smooth and cool against his skin. The touch of it made his cock hard...the scent made him start to leak....

She kissed the back of his neck, murmuring—purring—as she gingerly bit the strands of muscles that corded from his neck into the sinews of his shoulders. All the while, she 'polished' his chest with the silk of the thong; passed it across his navel and the flatness that encompassed it, and occasionally—strategically—allowed it to dip pass his pubes...where on the last pass, she simply allowed it to become ensnared; hoisted on the full mast of that powerful, black cock.

It was time for the first phase—she knew it, and she let him know it. Gently, she took him by the hand and led him to the tub....

***

She made him soak in the hot, perfumed tub as she took his legs and shaved them smooth from the crotch down....took his feet, did things to them he never knew imaginable in the realm of the pedicure—and then, polished each toe perfectly.

As his toes dried, she pushed him back into the tub and slid her hand up under the suds to grip his cock.... He grimaced then moaned as she pumped...in turn she bite his lip then forced her tongue into his mouth.

She stopped short of his cumming, his breath hard and ragged....then she shaved his face...ran her cheek along his to check for smoothness, then kissed him gently on the cheekbone....

'Close your eyes,' she murmured....in the heat of the tub-inspired lust the command posed no problems.... She reached for brushes and began to apply color....the flick of horsehair across his lids, over cheeks and chin relaxing him in ways he couldn't describe....

Finally she creamed something over his lips—thick and heavy, or so it seemed....then she kissed him with a kind of blotting motion....

He moaned again, and it seemed, so did she....

***

'Look,' she said in a throaty whisper....

When he opened his eyes he had difficulty focusing....he wasn't certain quite what he was looking at....the image resolved itself for him slowly....but it took what seemed like forever for it to register that he was looking at himself....

The face in the mirror was exquisite....

And this time, it seemed that she couldn't help herself as her hand slid beneath the suds again and started to stroke his huge hard on...the 'oil' seeping from his cum-slit and mixing with the bath oils in the tub....

'Mmmmmmm....,'this time Perri moaning and biting her bottom lip as she slowly pumped the snake in the tub.... 'Damn, Babi....,' she hissed almost inaudibly, 'you are fuckin' gorgeous....'

She use his cock to leverage him up out of the tub where she finished shaving his pubis, and then had him turn and bend so that she could do his balls, the trail leading to his perineum and then his asshole ....there, she kissed and gently licked the smooth tight space that extended from the base of the balls to the asshole.... He winced and groaned....Her response: 'Clean as a whistle....'

She laid a towel along the edge of the tub and had him lay of his stomach. She reached for a rich fragrant cream and began to work it into his body from the flat of his soles to the nape of his neck....expertly massaging as she worked her way up and down....

She turned him and did the same to his front—purposefully avoiding his straining cock, but silently admiring it...and remembering.... She concentrated on his biceps and then his chest...kneading the cream into his pecs, almost absent-mindedly flicking his nipples with her nails as she worked in concentric circles around them....

Her hands slick and lathered with the cream glided to his cock without warning....his back arched as her hands slid up the column of hard black flesh....when he was able to focus again, she said 'I love you...' as she pushed two fingers up his ass with more ease that he expected....never missing a beat as her wrist propelled her fist up and down his cock, coming to concentrate on the head....

He moaned...growled...babbled...then whined as he exploded in her fist....her fingers up his ass to the knuckles as she twisted them in and out for maximum effect....

'Yes Babi,' she cooed....he imagined Marvin Gaye in the background—or was it her: 'Give me your love...give me your love/ Give me your love...give me your love....'

He slumped back onto the towel. She let him be for the moment....

***

When his eyes fluttered open, she kissed him lightly.... 'We're not done, yet....' She gave him something cool to drink....

Matter-of-factly she confided: 'You'd be surprised at how many guys get off having their asses done....' And in a slight aside, 'You be surprised at how much I get off on doing it....' She giggles....

'Cmon....' Leading him into the closet. His outfit—at least its foundations are waiting for him. Most he recognized, one piece he wasn't quite sure of....

She helped him into the corset...cinched it so tight that it took the air from him. 'You'll get use to it....' Glancing down at his now semi-erect and leaking cock, 'I'm putting money on it that you're gonna grow to love it....' Catching a pearl of precum on her long, lacquered finger and sucking it with relish, yet sexual sophistication that made his cock twitch again.

The garters were laid out against his thighs—three on each side—as she watched him pull on the sheer, coal-black seamed stockings with a black Cuban heel. Then, she placed a pair of black, patent leather mules in front of him... 'These, for starters....' He stepped into them...taller than she was now, but not so much so that if they were out together that wouldn't simply be seen as two women in heels....

She smoothed the hose and straightened the seams for him as he watched in the floor-length mirror. Then, she took a black silk kerchief, triangled it, then twirled...slid it up under his balls at the base of his cock, looped it twice then tied a small, yet, neat bow at the top of his cock....she looked up, smiled as the blood rushed into his cock.... 'Better than a cock-ring....'

'Walk,' she whispered....

He tottered a bit. Self-conscious of his male-awkwardness; clear that if this was a life he had chosen before now, he wouldn't have been up to the task....

She giggled.... 'So...you think we were 'born' doing this, huh?' Meaning walking in heels. 'Clearly, you haven't been paying attention....hehehe....most of us begin our 'apprenticeships' quite early if we want to stand a chance, let alone 'perfect' this thing. Ever notice how many of us don't?' Another chuckle.... 'maybe 'billion and billions''....Carl Sagan entering her voice for effect....

'Nah, you're gonna practice a bit...but luckily what I need you to do, no one will give a squat about how you walk....'

So, he walked...face-made, waist-cinched, cock swaying, and be-heeled....and the more he did it, the more he loved it...the more he wanted to 'master' it...to make the walk his....

'Day-uuuum, Babi....' She hissed once again—her words like hot smoke in a French exhale. 'You are too fuckin' hot....' She slid her hand down the waistband of her slacks as she watched him move back and forth across the room...tracking his reflection, as he did, in the wall of mirrors....

***

5

Make-up and practice....practice and make-up...for a week? A month? He lost count—Sydd lost count. It only seemed long enough for him to wonder if it wasn't truly a game—if Perri hadn't turned him into some exotic pet.

Then, almost as if she were reading his mind: 'You think I'm fucking with you, don't you? Playing a game...?'