Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 

   I enjoy writing stories with transvestite themes more than any of the
other genres which to be honest I write more to interest readers than to
excite myself.  Because I really do enjoy dressing up, making up and
sitting at my desk in my Lady Joyce persona and letting my imagination roam
free.  I have just finished and spell-checked this one before up-loading
it, and am sitting looking out my front window waiting for Fabio to park
his Jaguar in the drive.  He is my current best lover, I could call him my
sugar daddy, but at thirty he is four years younger than me.  So I sit here
all in sexy black (black silk lingerie and Gio fully fashioned stockings,
black patent leather four inch high heels, and a body-flattering little
black dress, plain and simple, calf length and sophisticated for our night
out....  restaurant and the five star hotel.  No jewelry except little
diamond ear-studs.  I am wearing my hair long tonight, loose almost to my
waist, which is how he likes me when he takes me from behind.  Fabio wants
me to marry him, but I tell him not to be greedy: he has a lovely wife with
her ballerina's body, who tolerates his infidelities, and herself has
lovers (mostly lesbian, except for me: she enjoys my feminine body,
educated lips, and loves being fucked by a "girl" who does not need a
strap-on).  So he should thank his lucky stars and not rock the boat. 
Anyway, I am not a one-man girl!

   Drag to Riches (c) Lady Joyce Hamilton, tv/tv F/tv M/tv nc

   She must do this more often, she thought.  It had been a real luxury to
spend a night alone in her huge double bed, naked and with none of the
satin and lace adornment her all her lovers expected.  Luxury, too, to lay
in watching the news on the tv, and masturbating bringing herself to a
gentle but satisfying climax, so different from the sweaty and passionate
orgasms her lovers gave her.  She dried herself on a fresh, fluffy white
towel and breathed in the scent of the drops of lavender oil she had added
to the bath....  half an hour laying in the warm water, occasionally
freshening it with a burst of new hot water, thinking about the day, and
the week to come.  Luxury!

   She wiped the steam condensation from the mirror and looked at her face:
even without make-up it was feminine: yes, she could still recognise
something of Charles Delber but the hormones had softened any traces of
masculinity and her chin and cheeks were as smooth as her bum.  Lucky she
was not cursed with na large adams apple.  She wiped the rest of the mirror
and looked at herself in profile: her bum really was feminine, jutting out
nicely, firm but rounded.  Not that of a mature woman though!  Think
fifteen year old girl.  And her tits, nice rounded cones with fairly long
pink nipples and small aureoles.  She had never had implants and the
hormone therapy had left her with small tits, but perfectly shaped, perky
and pert.  She was, after all, petite, and her body was now that of a
teenage girl....  perhaps fifteen.  Curving but still quite slender hips,
flat belly, small cock and tight little pink ball sack.  She wondered if
she should remove the little square of pubic fleece she had left when all
the rest of her body hair was removed, mostly permanently.  She decided it
looked good, and drew the eye down towards her boyish genitals: the guys
liked that and liked her apparent teenage youth, and it also proved she was
a natural blonde!

   She was happy with her feminine body, and glad she was petite.  What had
been a penance to Charlie Delber until the happy day he finally left
school, was now a source of pride and pleasure.  Not that it had been all
bullying at school: her willingness to accept big, strong cocks in her
mouth and bottom had bought her some protection offered by the big,
muscular boys she favoured, and who appreciated the attention of this
pretty boy.  She had in her final year ticked off all the jocks on the
rugby and rowing teams, her sort of guys.  And Mr Adams, the English
teacher too, suave, debonair and beefy, willing to risk disgrace and worse
for access to her cute bottom!

   She never had a woman until after she became Candice Delbieu, a really
sexy and feminine transexual.  She occasionally did now, though it was
easier to find willing muscular, often married guys, and fellow trannies.
She swung all ways, with equal enthusiasm, and although really just a
whore, she was also a celebrity and did fashion modelling as well.  She was
expensive!

   She studied her figure as she faced the mirror: she had never had a
teenage girl.  Young Charlie Delber had been always too timid to risk the
probably inevitable put-down that would result from any approach to one of
the girls in his school, or street.  Any woman that came her way nowadays,
any woman looking for a tv whore, would inevitably be older, self-assured,
dominant, and unlikely ever to have the small tits and slender hips that
really attracted her in the female sex.  It would be nice to find, just
once, a willing girl with a figure similar to that in the mirror....  pussy
and no cock of course.  Ah well!  She had learned to enjoy being submissive
to big men and strong women.

   She had packed her suitcases for the trip, and checked her credit cards
and passport were in her purse: the passport was genuine in her new fem
name, Candice Delbieu.  It had cost her a week spent, mostly in bed, with
an embassy official (probably an espionage worker), and came complete with
international driving licence, birth certificate, and some other useful
bits and pieces.  He had been fun and a good lover, but most of all he gave
her the freedom to live, and especially travel as Miss Delbieu, and not Mr
Delber.  A week with Candice would probably have cost him £10000 back then
(it would be more now!) so it could be said the passport had cost her that.


   She snapped out of her reverie and wandered into her boudoir.  What to
wear today, this evening, and tomorrow?  Decisions!  Pleasant decisions.

   ..............................................

   She had packed her skin-tight black leather trousers and the matching
micro mini skirt or she might have chosen them: they really did show off
her legs and bum, but they were packed and anyway Angelique preferred her
completely petite and feminine, lace and silk!

   Angelique Montsegur was French, born in Martinique which is part of
France Outre Mer, and like all the girls from that tropical island was tall
and willowy, a head taller than Candice.  Like Candice she earned a better
than good living as a "society hostess" and was also Candice's favourite
lover, because she always took the leading role when they made love
allowing her Candice to be the submissive little girl.

   So Candice laid out on her bed a pastel blue waspie with white laces and
suspender straps, a matching very flimsy bra and thong, and a packet of new
tan stockings.  She would wear a tiny white leather skirt and she laid this
out as well, together with a plunging neckline white silk blouse, cropped
so it left her tanned midriff bare.  Her white "Essex Girl" three inch high
heels would round the outfit off: she would carry the mid-thigh-length
light coat that was going to Paris with her in any case.

   Even before she started dressing, her unruly cock had stiffened and she
took a plastic "gaff" from her knicker-drawer: she would need that if the
line of her tight skirt was not to be spoiled, and to maintain the illusion
when the two went out on the town later!

   Candice loved the act of dressing and not only because it was the
preface to sex, as it nearly always was.  It was not so much releasing the
feminine in her as there was so little of the masculine Charlie Delber
left: it was the feel of the clothes on her body and the look of them.  She
always watched herself in the long mirror she had installed in her bedroom.
one of three huge mirrors.  Her "guests" especially appreciated the mirror
set into the ceiling above her queen-size bed, and the long mirror behind
the bed-head.

   She started with the waspie, closing it round her waist and lacing it up
at the front, pulling her already flat and firm tummy in and making sure it
was tight: then a really deep breath and stomach pulled right in as far as
possible so she could wriggle the corselet round so the white laces were at
the back.  She stood admiring her slender body, her waist-line enhanced by
the waspie, enjoying the feeling of constriction it offered.  She sat on
the bed and opened the packet of Gio fully fashioned nylons.  Expensive,
these were her favourite: long enough to leave only an inch of bare thigh
at the tops, and not of the stretch variety, they were shaped like
old-fashioned silk stockings, delightfully glossy and fine to the touch. 
She stretched one slender, shapely legs up and slid the stocking on,
smoothing it with a sensitive palm, and then the other.  She stood and
fixed the suspender clips, tightening them so the white straps hugged her
hips.

   As she always did, she lay on the bed admiring her body in the overhead
mirror and rubbing her legs together, delighting in the feel of nylon on
nylon.

   Now the knickers.  She had intended a very flimsy lacy thong, but her
cock was so unruly it would have to be French knickers to control it if she
was to wear a tight mini skirt.  So she rummaged in her knicker-drawer and
found the fuller panties that also went with the bra set: they were
slippery satin across her bottom, but lace tracery on the front panel.  Her
cock was suitably disguised and contained when she slipped the "gaff" down
the front.  She sat up and fitted the bra...  she loved her small firm
breasts and as she admired herself again in the mirror she was so glad she
had not been tempted to have implants to get breasts out of proportion to
her seemingly teenage body.

   Her make-up took a long time, mostly because she enjoyed doing it, She
was ultra careful and precise with the non-smudge lipstick and the result
was a charming little bow, the scarlet drawing attention to her full,
sensual lips.  Her complexion, English peaches and cream, was so good she
did not need the pancake most transexuals were forced to smear on, but just
some powder and a touch of blusher to enhance her fine cheekbones. 
Hormones and laser treatment meant there was never any disfiguring stubble
or shaving rash' She always used blue eye-shadow to attract attention to
her really piercing blue eyes, and her long eyelashes needed no artificial
help.

   She brushed her blonde hair till it shone.  Today and tonight she would
wear it loose to her shoulders.

   Finally her nail varnish to match the scarlet lipstick and the toenails
she had done before her bath.

   She resisted the temptation to masturbate looking at herself in the
mirror, as she so often did.  Tonight her whole energy and all her cum was
for Angelique.....

   So it was just wriggle into the tight white skirt, slip the blouse on
making sure just enough of her cleavage and occasionally the blue bra would
be on view, and phone for the taxi.  She lived in St John's Wood and
Angelique in Hampstead so it would only be a short taxi ride: she always
used "official" black taxis as the drivers were true professionals with a
proper understanding of politeness combined with cheerful friendliness.

   ............................

   By the way Candice threw herself into the arms of Angelique you would
have thought they had been separated for months, not the actual fortnight.
Angelique was wearing a gold satin negligee, long almost to her ankles, and
the only hint as to what might be underneath was the gold high heels and
the way her breasts seemed to be lifting the neckline of the dress.  They
kissed, long and passionate, Angelique having to bend so her long silky
black hair tickled Candice who was at least a head shorter.

   Candice pressed her body to Angelique's and was rewarded by the feel of
hard cock against her torso.  Enjoying her lover's passion and the feel of
Angelique's licking inside her wide open mouth, Candice reached between
them and pulled at the bow on the satin negligee, feeling it give way.  She
broke off the kiss and leaned backwards to allow the robe to fall open,
revealing the chocolate brown super-fit body, and her lover's Sexy
lingerie, black today.  The suspender belt was more substantial than the
lacy black thong which neatly cupped the ball sack but was nowhere near
enough to cover an engorged cock, poking straight stemmed nearly up to
Angelique's belly button.  Candice held the cock, delighting in its
familiar heat and solidity: a darker brown than Angelique's body and with a
huge, flaring purple knob it would bring Candice to a repeated climaxes
when they made love: Candice's favourite cock, her favourite lover....

   Angelique had larger breasts than Candice, partly because she was larger
boned and had more muscle than the petite girl, but partly because she had
paid for them to be surgically enhanced once the initial hormones had done
their job.  Candice licked the silky brown cleavage and then mouthed the
flimsy black lace bra, finding the nipples beneath splendidly long and
hard.

   "Jesus!  You've a sexy body, Angel, so lovely I could eat you....."

   "You soon will, you naughty girl."

   Angel had one arm around the girl's shoulders, and the other resting on
her butt, on the thin, tight leather."

   "If I'm naughty will you spank me?"

   The hand on her butt delivered a hard slap.

   "You like that don't you, Candy?"

   "Please....."

   A hand smacked down hard on her leather-protected bum: she yelped and
Angelique laughed.

   "Bed, Candy.  I've booked a table for eight thirty, which gives us a
full hour to play and an hour to pretty up again."

   ....................................

   Candice followed her lover along the corridor admiring the splendid bum
wiggling ahead of her, two chocolate globes separated by a thin black lace.
The corridor like the main room was modern 'minimalist', no furniture and
only two very 'modern art' paintings in plain, simple frames.  The main
room had in it only a glass-topped stainless steel table, with six equally
austere dining chairs around it.  For the rest there was a cupboard in what
appeared to be black marble but was in fact lacquered wood, a large screen
television, a desk with a laptop, one box file, and a small telephone (the
society hostess's friend!).  The room had just one comfortable sofa, a copy
of that famous one in the shape of sensual lips: most of Angelique's
entertaining was done in the bedroom!.

   In contrast the bedroom was completely over the top, a homage to
nineteenth century French brothels with its heavy red velvet curtains and
deep carpet.  The bed was a magnificent, huge antique brass bed, with the
bed-knobs shining in gold-leaf, and ceramic panels at the front with scenes
of comely maidens and handsome youths doing what comes naturally.  There
was the usual ceiling mirror, and opposite the bed a full length, floor to
ceiling mirror angled to reflect any frolics on the bed.  Each side of the
mirror two paintings one of Sappho and female lover in a naked and clearly
lesbian embrace and the other, more modern than that old master, of two
lingerie-clad youths, one kneeling to present his bubble bottom to the
equally pretty boy kneeling behind him.

   Over the bed-head was the chef d'oeuvre, as painting of Angelique
herself, magnificent and naked except for a scanty panties and suspender
belt, stockings and high heels, her cock pointing direct in front.  Candice
had heard of paintings where the eyes follow the viewer wherever she is: in
this painting it was the knob, framed by black nylon crotchless panties,
that did the same thing.

   She raised her arms and her lover pulled her blouse up and off, then
watched while the petite blonde writhed and wriggled and finally divested
herself of the clinging leather, to stand in front of Angelique, like her
in her lingerie and heels, like her hard-cocked.  They embraced,Candice
with her tongue in Agelique's mouth her breasts pressed tight in their
clinch, her hands on her lover's bottom, one outside the thong, the other
inside, feeling naked flesh and the firm muscles under silky skin.

   A sudden slap on her bottom broke into her passionate reverie.

   "Bra and panties off, girl and on the bed."

   The bed had, as it always did, red ropes from the corners of the
mattress, and similar from the gold-plated bed-knobs.  Candice was made to
kneel facing the foot of the bed, her arms outstretched and tied with the
silk ropes.  Her ankles were left free, and she knew that made to kneel
instead of being laid flat on her belly with ankles shackled she was going
to be spanked, not whipped.  Whipping was always done laying flat or
standing upright stretched to one of the hooks in the ceiling.  She was
happy as she knew to be spanked kneeling was a prelude to even better
things.

   Angelique had taken off her brassiere and was standing on the bed slowly
removing her panties.  Candice's heart beat in anticipation as she looked
at the magnificently formed body of her mistress.

   Clipped to the wall each side of the near-nude painting were a
collection of leather whips, paddles, hunting crops and a terrible leather
tawse (once the window strap on an ancient steam train carriage.  Candice
liked to be whipped while it was going on but was always a bit nervous just
before, especially if she was tied helpless.  What if her mistress got
carried away in her ecstatic enthusiasm?

   But spanking was always nice, before, during and after!

   She could see herself in the long mirror, through the iron bars of the
bedstead, and was proud of the way her tits kept their rounded, conical
shape perfectly despite hanging down.  Her blonde hair shone and framed her
face as she looked up and saw the determination on Angelique's face as her
arm descended.  The slap echoed round the tall ceiling and produced a yelp
from the victim.  The only one, as she was silent through five minutes of
sustained spanking, and knew that as soon as her bum started to flush pink
she would be fucked.  And fucked thoroughly, no quarter given or asked for.

   Oil and condoms were kept in little tortoise-shell boxes in a carved
probably Chinese cabinet with open shelves fixed to the wall, but Angelique
did not use condoms with her favourite fuck, and both trusted each other to
be disease free, so the little spray bottle of oil kept just under the edge
of the mattress was all that was needed to lubricate cock and anus....

   The feel of the knob's pressure on her anus was, as it always was,
almost intolerably delightful both because it sent messages to her cock and
because it was the promise of....  "Aaah Oh Yes!" .....  there was the
usual sudden pang as a flaring knob forced past a tight-closed anal
sphincter, and then the pleasure of feeling the shaft slide easily through,
the knob filling her rectum until finally she felt the nylon clad thighs of
her lover press against her naked bum.  Angelique's hands now holding
Candice's hips she withdrew as far as the ridge of her knob and then pushed
in again forcefully.

   "As hard as you like, Angel.  Oh yes!  Like that.  You're filling me. 
Yes!  Spank me....."

   She felt her suspender straps tweaked playfully, stretched and then let
go so they struck her smooth thighs with a stinging crack sound.  Then the
pleasure of an open hand spanking her, one slap for each rough insertion.
The sound rang through the room, accompanied by Candice's moans of pleasure
and her panting demands for faster, harder.  The oil, Angelique's pre-cum
and perhaps more started to produce a squelching sound, and the room was
filled with the scent of invaded rectum.

   Candice felt an orgasm rising: hands tied there was no way she could
easily halt it.

   "On my back, please, darling.  Turn me over.  I don't want to cum all
over your lovely silk sheets.  Pleeeese!"

   By a huge effort of willpower she managed to halt her climax short of
pumping a day's cum into the sexy satin bed-sheet.  Her hands were
released, she was turned over, and Angelique grabbed each ankle, pulling
legs apart and bending her at the knee, pushing so her anus, gaping open
now, was visible under her cock and balls.  Angelique shuffled forward a
bit and her knob placed itself exactly over that gaping darkness: one shove
and she was fucking again.  She looked down at her petite favourite: face
flushed now, sweat on forehead and upper lip, a wild look in her eyes as
she reached up to grasp her fucker's tits.

   "Oh!  God!  Yes!  Candy, yes, Like that."

   Angelique's shouts, the slower, more powerful thrusts, one, two, three,
four, and the increased lubrication of her anus told Candy that her lover
had cum, and still grasping those firm breasts she came too, squirting two
streamers of creamy white cum over her own breasts and onto her face.

   Candice's cock oozed cum, and Angelique's twitched a few times before
getting soft, and being expelled with a farting noise and a thick dribble
of cum from her partner's arse.

   "God, Candy.  You're a great fuck.  I don't know anyone else who always
cums when fucked, without using their hands...."

   "You're the only girlie who can make me do it, Angelique...."

   .....................................

   A lazy morning in bed, a light lunch, and then the airport and the short
flight to Paris Charles de Gaulle.  They had a two hour wait there for
their connecting flight to Pointe Noire on the mainland before the final
leg to Ile Sainte Marie.  Luckily there was an up-market lingerie boutique
and they were spent the time browsing and buying.  Both finished up with
among other pretties identical basques, white satin with pastel blue lace
trimmings, and two sets of panties to match (thong and fuller versions). 
They considered more nightdresses, but decided their two weeks would
probably need all the different lingerie and shoes they had packed, but
probably not many nighties.

   The plane was on time.  Both sensibly refused the offered champagne and
dozed for a bit: their night and morning in bed had not involved too much
sleep!  They awoke just as the plane was coming into land at Pointe Noire.

   A handsome guy in vaguely airforce uniform was there to meet them in the
transit lounge, introducing himself as Captain Albana and suggesting point
out their bags and then wait in the VIP lounge while he organised the cases
onto his plane before he piloted direct to the Presidential palace at Fort
St Jacques.  It would only be a half hour flight at most.

   The plane was a small executive jet with four armchairs and a table
bolted to the floor instead of conventional seats.  The pilot offered them
a drink before sitting at the controls.  They accepted gin and tonics and
sat back chatting, looking out over nothing but miles of blue ocean with
little white-sailed fishing boats.

   "So tell me about Fort St Jacques, Angelique.  I didn't have time to
research it much.  Just know it's on a tropical island."

   "OK sweetie.  Ile Sainte Marie was until ten years ago part of the
mainland country....  I forget it's name.  Something African.  Then there
was a coup probably led by mercenaries hired by some finance guys who had
heard about the off-shore oil finds.  Anyway it declared independence
backed by hard-men soldiers, and is ruled by General Makuto who led the
coup, though he gets his orders from outside I think.  He's a dictator but
popular enough mwith the people as he makes sure some of the oil wealth
trickles down and the whole population has moved from third world to first
world in just two years.  The General seems to be a happy, benevolent sort
of guy; enjoys partying.  The coup was bloodless and the islanders.... 
there's only a couple of thousand of them...  were overjoyed to get rid of
the last lot."

   "Sounds good."

   "You'll like him, Candy.  He's a giant of a man and all muscle.  And
he's got a son about twenty who takes after his dad: educated in England.
Quite a combo for us those two.  We won't see much of the island as the
culture there is homophobic....  except in the President's Palace where
anything goes and usually does.  His entourage is emphatically not
homophobic according to rumours on the internet, and are in fact chosen
because they swing all ways...  like the President and his son

   Anyway there's not much to see in the island which is apparently still
mostly a building site, and the Palace has its own private beach etc, and
very tight security.  There are no tourists so we are a bit special.

   "Sounds like Paradise, Angelique."

   "Fingers crossed the internet has it correct, then."

   ...........................................

   "Presidential Flight Nine Zero, Captain Albana.  ETA Fort St Jacques one
eight thirty.  Permission to land."

   "Security Fort St Jacques, Presidential Flight Nine Zero may land."

   The small jet rolled right up to a white Mercedes parked on the runway,
and when it stopped two men stepped from the car.  The General in military
uniform, his son in a light-weight grey silk suit.  The heat slapped the
two girls in the face as they were briefly welcomed, chaste embraces from
each of the two men, and glad to get into the air conditioning of the
Mercedes.

   Candice caught Angelique's eye and, smiling, winked: These guys looked
so sexy, and their soft-spoken slightly French accent was particularly
attractive.  Something about their confidence and clear sophistication
suggested they would be good lovers and the two weeks would be fun as well
as very profitable!

   ..........................................

   Fort St Jacques was an old castle, they later learned it was built by
the Portuguese in the fifteen hundreds.  had been variously owned by the
English, the French, the English again, and the newly independent mainland
state.  It now formed the core of the Presidential Palace with add-ons of
architecturally dreadful government offices, and barracks and leisure
facilities for the mercenary guards.  And what looked like an up-market
beach resort, golf course and so on..

   The girls were ushered into splendid rooms high up in the old castle,
two bedrooms with an adjoining heavy mahogany door, plate-glass windows
overlooking the beach and bay, and modern furniture that might suggest a
five star hotel.  Thankfully the whole complex was air-conditioned, and
each bedroom had its own toilet and bath suite.

   Candice found a very pretty maid waiting for her, chocolate brown and
about her own height, dressed in retro "French maid" fashion, a fetishist's
delight in black nylon mini-skirt showing most of fully-fashioned clad
shapely legs drawing the eyes down to five-inch high-heeled black patent
leather shoes, deep-cleavage silk blouse, and a smile revealing lovely
white teeth and full, passionate lips.

   "I am Marie, Miss.  I am your maid during your stay.  I have unpacked
your bags and have been asked to tell you that dinner will be served at
nine.  That gives us two hours to prepare: it is very formal tonight and
you will need one of your gowns."

   "Thank you, Marie.  By the way you are very pretty and have lovely
English...."

   "Thank you, Miss.  All the islanders speak English as it was our
language before we were joined onto the mailnland: after that all business
was in French, so people my age speak both."

   "I think I will start with a shower..."

   "May I suggest, Miss, a nice hot bath...."

   .........................................

   It was a "double bath" of all things, and had six jacuzzi jets built
into it below the water line too.  Candice had been helped to undressd in
the bedroom, where the maid had made no comment, not registered surprise
when Candice's cute genitalia were revealed.  She must have been
forewarned, Candice guessed.  But what did surprise her was the confidence
with which Marie applied the anal douche, efficiently greasing the long
nozzle and squeezing the warm water into her mistress's anus as if it was
the most usual, natural thing prior to a bath.  Perhaps it was, Candice
thought, and she was glad her pussy would be nice and clean this first
night!

   So douched and the water and shit dumped in the toilet next door, she
lowered herself into the just-right water, and as Marie dropped a tiny
quantity of lavender oil into the water she pressed the button for the
jacuzzi, and luxuriated in the bubbles titillating her skin.  When she
finally sat up her maid soaped her, those soft brown hands being as
effective as a masseuse, and not afraid to caress sensitive nipples, yes
and also her arse-cleft, and cock and balls.

   Aroused by the willowy, shapely black girl and her artful caresses she
wondered if sex was allowed between guests and servants.  She would have to
find out: it would be delightful.....  the girl could surely not be much
more than sixteen and had a lovely figure, strong firm tits and a jutting,
rounded bum, good European features with high cheek bones. ....  but better
not to risk an advance yet.

   Together they chose a flimsy black nylon and lace lingerie set, the bra
and the front panel of the knickers near-transparent nylon with just enough
lace tracery to almost hide aureoles, nipples, and genitalia, Almost, but
not quite!  The suspender belt put on under the knickers, as she always did
when "on a date" was a simple lace panel with lacy straps to support her
glossy fully-fashioned black nylons.

   As usual the feel of nylon against her skin and the look of her body in
the long mirror made her cock stand.  Marie made no comment except to say
she should not use the gaff Candice had brought with her.  There would be
no attempt tonight to hide the evidence of her tranny status.  After all
that was certainly why she and Angelique had been hired!  The insistence on
an anal douche was encouraging too.....

   Marie removed all the old-make-up, and re-did it with great skill,
praising her mistress' beauty, and Candice knew the girl meant it: she
looked in the mirror, and she had never looked better, her blonde hair
allowed to fall shining to her shoulders.

   They chose a simple black dress in clinging silk that caressed her body
and showed off her tits and shapely rump.  Mid-thigh length it made her
look more like a teenage girl than a woman in her early twenties, slender
shapely legs drawing the eye up to a suggestive bulge where a girl should
have none!.

   There was still ten minutes to kill and Marie asked her if she would
like a line of coke.  Candice thanked her politely but told her she never
touched the stuff.

   "The General asked me to ask you.  He will be pleased as he has taken
against the stuff and there are penalties, or would be if anyone were silly
enough.  The new regime has been tough on addicts."

   Candice registered the fact that her pretty little maid was certainly
reporting back to The President, and that was the first little hint that
perhaps this was not simply paradise.  She dismissed the wayward thought,
and followed her maid down corridors where the old stone of the walls was
decorated with colourful local artwork, much of it pop-art style.

   ..................................................



   The meal had been quite formal, the two males both dressed in their
dinner jackets: Candice sat beside Angelique and opposite The President. 
Conversation was subdued but Candice found the two guys were making her
feel horny, especially The President: the giant black man did full justice
to the "black tie" uniform, attire that Candice found attractive in itself
with memories of other trysts with the great and the good.  Add to that his
dignified bearing, perfect smile and that solid, gleaming-shaved head.  She
was already feeling life in her cock when he invited her to dance.

   In the mandatory trip to the ladies Angelique had positively glowed with
the success of the business trip she had successfully arranged for the two
of them.  Like Candice she had been attracted to the maid provided....  a
leggy teenage black girl in her case "Incredibly sexy, and even got me a
couple of lines of coke!  That was the only thing that really worried me.
You know how I love the stuff, Candy!"

   "Oh dear!" Candy thought.  Too late to warn Angelique of what Marie had
told her: fingers crossed, and no need to worry her friend as it was too
late now to do anything about it.......  Perhaps the maid would not report
back.

   The group of five musicians had been playing soft, slow music, blues or
ballads, through the meal but when the girls returned Angelique was dancing
with the lad to a more lively number, and Candice found she could back onto
her partner, The General, squirming against him, feeling his hard cock in
the small of her back and wiggling her bottom against him his right leg
between hers.  Then she felt his hands on her breasts, looked down and saw
those immense paws holding her, then tweaking her nipples through the silk
and nylon.

   As if instructed...  and they probably were....  the players reverted to
slow, blues numbers, and scarcely moving their feet, swaying in each
other's arms, Candice and her beau smooched.  The low lights away from the
table and the feel of his strong arms around her, His hand caressing her
bottom, his whispered flattery about her beauty , about how he desired, all
this attention from an alpha male made her cock really stand, doubtless
destroying the line of her dress.  But she could feel his cock against her,
and she told him how sexy he was, how strong and male.  Their difference in
height made it difficult to kiss but they did and she slipped her tongue
into his mouth.

   That was enough.  Not taking leave of Angelique and his son, he picked
Candice up bodily and carried her from the room, cradled in his arms, her
arms around his neck.



   ........................

   The President's quarters were opulent, but his bedroom spartan, just a
large bed....  so long and wide it must have been a one-off she thought,
and mirrors on the wall and ceiling.  She smiled inwardly: no doubt this
room was for both sleeping and fucking.  A door probably to a wardrobe,
another certainly to a bathroom suite.  The simple bedside cabinet had a
shelf with bottles: she recognised Johnson's baby oil and a jar of blue
pills.

   He sat her on the bed and stood in front of her.  The bulge in his black
trousers made it clear what he wanted.

   She looked at the man mountain and momentarily shuddered as she imagined
what size cock such a male might have, what it might feel like inside her
tight anus.  The bulge held her glance almost hypnotically and she she
reached out to hold it, to measure it...

   He laughed.

   "Eager lady!  I like that.  But patience while I get rid of all this."

   She watched, heart racing, cock stiff, as he slowly and methodically
undressed, hanging his dress suit in the wardrobe, his shoes in a rack, the
pearl buttons from his dress shirt along with the pearl cuff-links in a
tray in the wardrobe, all his other clothes in a bundle in the corner.  He
stood for a moment in dazzling white boxers, magnificently tented, and then
he lowered them, his cock springing free.

   As he walked the few steps to the bed it pointed at her, blacker even
than his body colour, a slender purple knob not much broader than the
shaft. A bit disappointed: he was not much broader or longer than many of
her lovers, but also relieved.  That cock, with its slight curve and its
pointed helmet was built for pleasure.  That and the viagra pills by the
bed promised a lot.

   She reached for the bottle.  "May I, sir?"

   "Of course."

   She knew these full strength pills would click in after half an hour and
intended if possible to make this a long session.  His was the best body
she had enjoyed in a long, long while!

   He stood her up again and kissed her, his hand finding the clasp on her
dress: she heard the zip, and it fell to her feet.  He lifted her easily
and placed her on the bed, looking down at her before reaching and
squeezing her breasts.

   "Perfect!"

   She reached behind and unclasped the bra, throwing it from the bed.

   "You are very strong, sir." She reached out and held his cock feeling
the vein throb and the knob already slick with pre-cum.

   "And you are very beautiful, Candice."

   She pulled her panties down and they joined her bra on the floor.

   "And that is special: we have no-one like you here."

   She wondered now about him: would he just want to fuck her arse and
mouth, or was he hankering for some cock?

   He sat her on the bed again, pulling her to the very edge so her bum was
just off it, grasped one ankle in each hand and pulled her legs apart.  She
felt the baby oil slurp onto her anus and watched as he wiped his right
hand across her bottom and transferred the oil to his own cock, which now
gleamed shiny.

   There was nothing delicate about what he did next!  Holding his cock in
his right hand, he placed the knob and shoved.  Her arse accepted the knob
easily and now he held her by the ankles again and pushed till his muscular
thighs touched her slender body and his full length was in her.

   He was obviously one of those guys who just wanted his own pleasure
without any thought as to his partner's needs as he shagged her hard and
fast.  If she were less experienced this sudden violence would have been
traumatic, all right for cunts she supposed, but not for most arses!  Ah
well!  It took all types, and at least the shape of his cock, with its
forward bend, meant she was getting pleasure!  That was the best shape for
tickling prostates!

   But too quick.  Scarcely twenty thrusts and he was cumming.  She was
not!

   He pulled out and his cum spilled out of her dribbling down ontyo the
bed.

   But he had not done.

   "Over!"

   She turned on her belly and his strong arms pulled her into the classic
kneeling position.  The power of viagra!  Still hard his cock was up her
again, and this time his thrusts were accompanied by his hand under her
body jerking her cock in the same rhythm as his thighs crashing into her
bottom cheeks.  Again he was hurried but she just about climaxed at the
same time as him, and as before he pulled his cock out almost immediately.

   He stood up, crossed the room, wiped his cock on a towel, threw the
towel to her on the bed, and pushed a bell-push by the door.

   "Marie will take you back to your room.  Have you had her yet?  She's a
hot little tart!"

   "I wasn't sure that was permitted, sir.  I mean, a servant....."

   He laughed.  "That's what they're for.  She's expecting it."

   Marie, in her French-maid uniform, was not alone.  Candy was not
introduced to the petite blonde who accompanied her, very sexily dressed in
what was clearly haute couture.  Not a servant this one!  And it was just a
bit humiliating for Candy to realise that she had been just the appetiser
and that this little beauty would get the benefit of the viagra The
President had swallowed, and presumably longer and more satisfactory
fucking....

   Ah well!  Such is the life of a whore!

   .......................................

   She wondered how long it would be before she had learned the routes
through these lush corridors and high-vaulted rooms full of ornate,
over-the-top furnishings.  In the meantime her maid Marie was a very
acceptable companion and guide, dressed in her sexy uniform and obviously
happy to see her mistress.  A sudden insight told her Marie was relieved to
find her mistress safe, unharmed.  She wondered why, but liked the girl's
pleasure in her company: almost instinctively she slipped an arm round the
girl's waist and as they walked along allowed her palm to drop those few
inches onto Marie's cute teenage bottom which she she could feel moving
seductively as they paced the carpets and marble floors.

   She slid her hand downwards and then up under the fine black silk
finding her maid was wearing the tiniest of thongs, the nylon merely
cupping the girl's pussy from behind, and guarding her anus with a mere
string deep inside the cleft of her buttocks.  The arse-cheeks were naked
to her touch.  Her own cock was stiff and she knew she would enjoy this
girl that night.

   And then she felt Marie's hand on her own bum, up under the silk of the
gown that scarcely covered her bottom.

   She felt down the open front of the maid's blouse, and found a
delightfully hard little breast, silky skin, as small as her own, but
delightfully firm and the long nipple firm between her finger and thumb.

   They stopped, looked at each other.  and then with a movement from both
the gap between them was closed, they were embracing, and kissing.  She
accepted Marie's tongue into her mouth and then reciprocated.  She moved
her hand finding the cool satin of a suspender belt strap alongside the
warmth of the girl's flesh and playfully stretched it, allowing it to snap
back.

   Marie giggled and slapped her mistress' bum with the flat of her hand.

   She stuck her pointed tongue in Marie's ear and savoured the bitter
taste.  She whispered, low and throaty.  "God!  I want you."

   "Me too.  I have since you came off the plane."

   They hurried now, hand in hand back to the guest rooms.

   ..................................

   And it was all haste as the maid undid the catch on her mistress' gown,
slid the short zip, and allowed it to fall as a little pool of silk over
the strappy.  high-heeled shoes.  Lover as much as maid by now, Marie
reached to fondle a breast, scarce hidden, embellished rather by the fine
lacy tracery of a flimsy bra.  Feeling the pert little mound, exactly as
she liked the breasts of a lover, more teenage girl than mature woman, she
paid the welcome compliment as she unclasped the brassiere.

   "Perfect!  So shapely and pert.  So white and beautiful.  And these rosy
tips."

   "You now, Marie."

   Candice loved the act of dressing, but this was a girl well worth
undressing.  By the feel of those tits when she had groped Marie in the
corridor she was close to her feminine ideal.  She unpopped the four
buttons down the front of her maid's severe white blouse, and it fell open
to reveal the most perfect little breasts.  No brassiere and none needed!
Yes!  She thought as she felt her clit wake up at the sight of two perfect
cones, small as she preferred, but nicely rounded, that light chocolate
brown she found so sexy, and the nipples a darker brown, prominent.  Still
small, brown aureoles.  Yes!  This is what I've been missing.  Real teenage
beauty......

   She pulled the girl's blouse from the waistband and it joined the gown
on the floor.  The severe black silk hobble skirt was fastened simply with
a catch and a zip.  Maries smiled as she heard the zip opening, and stepped
out of the skirt, kicking it away with those fetish-provoking black high
heels.  She stood facing her mistress dressed only in the suspender belt
and matching black thong, legs so sexy in black seamed stockings.  Ankles
trim in those high heels.

   She smiled: Candice looked so serious!  She grasped her mistress' hand
and then the two of them were laying on the bed, breasts pressed together,
legs interlocked, arms entwined, open mouths pressed together.

   "I want your breasts!"

   "Oh yes!"

   Candy took one nipple between her lips and pulled at it, listening to a
gentle moan of pleasure escape from Marie's lips.  Marie held the blonde
head close to her as her mistress licked her aureole, felt the softness and
firmness with her cheek and lips, and moaned again when Candy nibbled the
nipple almost painfully, pulling at the rubbery nub.  She decided the skin
of this girl was the silkiest, sexiest she had ever known....  and she had
kissed the breasts of many a woman and even more transexuals.

   "I love your chocolate skin colour, Marie.  Much sexier than white."

   "My father was....  is.....  a Syrian merchant with a store and
warehouse here, my mother was one of the palace girls.  I'm glad you like.
For me white and blonde is much more sexy than brown or black."

   "We're well-matched then!  Suck my tits, Marie."

   She lay back and luxuriated while her maid licked and sucked, and then
kissed her body over and over downwards towards her belly, kissing her
newly waxed pubic bone, and then delightfully taking the erect penis into
her mouth.  Candy moaned her pleasure as she felt the wet warmth, the
girl's tongue fluttering up and down the sensitive front of the shaft,
sucking on the knob her tongue teasing the eye while she gently cradled the
shaven balls, tugging and stretching the skin of their pouch.

   Candy wanted to taste the girl, feel those plump labia under her lips,
seek out the clitoris.

   "Me too!"

   She rolled the girl over on her back and lay on top, her face buried in
Marie's crotch, her cock pressed somewhere on the maid's face.  She felt
Marie's legs close over her back and heard the sigh of satisfaction as her
lips kissed those so-desired, so-sexy, chocolate-brown lips, and then her
tongue penetrated the outer lips to find the so-feminine taste within.  She
penetrated with her pointed tongue, though not deep enough to experience
the smooth tightness of the vagina.  She managed to get a hand under the
girl so she could penetrate her from behind, sliding her index finger
knuckle-deep into that wet, warm, welcoming sheath.  She scarcely had to
touch the clitoris with her tongue than the girl was plunged into her
orgasm.  Candice felt Marie's vagina tighten on her finger and heard the
girl's "Oooooooh!" muffled by the cock jammed against her palate.

   Candy knew what she wanted now, and it was not just another lesbian
embrace.  She wanted to fuck the girl, to fuck her cunt.  How long had it
been since she had fucked a female pussy?  Male and tranny cunts yes!  Hot,
sensual female cunts so rare a treat for her!  And teenage girl cunts zero!

   She looked for a moment at the girl whose eyes seemed to be pleading. 
They were....  Candice heard the almost sobbing "Please".  She grasped the
girl's ankles and placed those long legs over her shoulders, shuffled an
inch or two closer, placed her knob and pushed.  Warm and wet!  Lovely!

   And nicely tight, gripping her cock as only a young girl's really can,
so muscular, fit, a really vigorous little vagina!  Her cock sank in till
two pubic bones met, two shaven pubes together and at the same moment her
knob touched the end of Marie's cunt causing a little gasp.

   She paused to admire her maid's smiling face, deep, dark eyes and those
lovely little tits, but Marie's hips were rising in invitation, demanding
so she started to fuck, long, slow, powerful sweeps.

   Candice heard the girl impaled beneath her demanding faster, harder, and
knew she had taken her to the brink with her tongue and lips, and now her
cock would drive the girl to orgasm in just a few short, sharp jabs.  Marie
closed her eyes and her face took on a grimace almost of pain.  Candice
felt the vagina contract even tighter around her cock, fully in her, and
heard the first of the series of grunts that accompanied each spasm.  She
skilfully timed her thrusts...  one to each grunt...  and was pleased not
yet to have cum herself.  Her cock felt all-powerful, winged steel, and she
knew I would be able to go on through several of the girl's orgasms now she
had controlled her first near-climax.  Better to travel than arrive,

   Candice was just congratulating herself when both heard the first
scream, followed by shouts of pain and panic, then more screams coming from
Angelique's room.  She looked over my shoulder and saw the key was in the
heavy mahogany doors: more screaming.  It was Anglique!  She pulled her
cock out and both of them sat up.

   Candice stood and started to the door, turning the key.

   "No!  Don't, Candy.  Don't!"

   Marie sounded almost as desperate as the girl next door, but she was
standing beside her mistress now, her hand covering Candice's on the
door-knob.  She switched the lights off, turned the door knob slowly,
gently, knelt down, and opened it perhaps a centimetre; Candice was
standing over her, so we could both peep through the gap.

   "Shit!" Candice whispered under her breath.

   There were a whole crowd of naked men in the room: by the look of them
The President's hyper-fit guards.  Also a stark, bollock-naked President
with a whip in his hand, an evil looking black contraption with black
leather thongs braided finally into a handle.  Poor Angeligue was attached
by her wrists to a rope from the ceiling, stretched so her high-heeled
shoes just touched the floor, legs stretched wide apart by a chrome-plated
bar attached to a pair of ankle- cuffs.  Fuck, but her tits looked good
stretched up like that, her friend thought, and then was ashamed because
the burly General raised his arm struck his victim with the cat-o-nine
tails and Candice heard her scream as the leather thongs snapped across
those pretty breasts.  She screamed: it hurt.  But it did not seem to cut
her flesh, thank goodness.

   The ceiling rope-end must have been attached to some sort of swivel
because one of the men, Candice thought she recognised the huge, muscular
body of the sergeant, grasped the captive by the tits and twirled her so
she was spinning round and round.  The other guys laughed as the President
lashed her, the biting leather landing on bottom, balls and cock, tits,
thighs, wherever was pointing toward the whip when it fell.

   This was no game: the shouts of pain were only too real.  Poor
Angelique! Her Candy enjoyed being tied up anm spanked playfully, but
Angelique never.  She had no practise at all, no submissive fantasies
either.  This was pain with no accompanying pleasure at all....

   All the men in the room had stiff cocks, and Candice just knew this
whipping was a prelude to gang rape.  She counted them.  Including the
General thirteen: oh my god!

   She was right!  After several minutes of this martyrdom the sergeant cut
her down, silent now but sobbing and with tears running down her cheeks. 
Two of the men pulled her over to the little glass-topped table, and
sweeping the bowl of fruit onto the floor threw her belly down onto it and
tying her wrists and ankles to the table legs, her bottom and male pussy
offered to all and sundry, obscenely displayed and open.

   And especially to The president, who stood behind her, spat in his hand,
wet his cock, bent his legs just a bit so his knob rested on her anus and
shoved.  No lube and no foreplay, it hurt even this experienced transexual.
Angelique screamed in pain and again begged for mercy.  The General
laughed, grabbed a handful of blonde hair and pulled her head back towards
him, offering her face for fucking too.

   One of you guys now: we'll spit-roast the whore!

   It was more than Candice could bear standing there helpless while her
friend's mouth and anus were raped: worse all the other men had rampant
cocks and were obviously waiting their turn, drooling almost in
anticipation of this rare treat, a lovely male-female!  Pre-cum dripped
onto wood-block floor and carpet.She quietly closed the door and turned the
key.

   "You didn't cum, Madame?"

   "Candy, not Madame.  No.  I wanted to have a lot more fucking before I
came."

   "Oooh!  Me too, Candy.  We could use my little room and we would not
have to listen to Angelique's grief."

   There were renewed shouts and screams from behind those doors, and
Candice could imagine the guy fucking Angelique's face had cum so she could
scream, and probably The President had shot his load too as he had been
hasty the only time he had fucked her.  This would be the second shift in
action.....

   .........

   A couple of hours later the sex on Marie's little bed had been good for
both of them, and they decided to freshen up back in Candice's suite.

   The next room was quiet now, and they gingerly unlocked and opened the
door.  The debris of a fuck-fest was everywhere.  The rope hung from the
ceiling still, and both the glass table top and the bed were stained and
soaked in cum.  Little pools of semen or pre-cum perhaps stained the floor.
The scent of sex was nearly overwhelming.  But Angelique, The President and
the guards had all gone.

   They showered together, quickly and almost chastely: just caresses,
nothing more.  Then they dressed and made-up: Marie in her French Maid
official uniform ....  "Hippy designed it himself and I love it: all the
maids do...." Candice in a simple white silk dress, high at the neck and
sexy because as well as hugging her slender body as only silk really can it
was split up the leg on the left side to the level of her waist.  The
expanse of tanned young flesh so exposed was made doubly sexy by the string
ties of white silk at two inch intervals the length of the split.  At
Marie's suggestion she had not worn a brassiere so her nipples would be
prominent through the otherwise quite severe top.  However, she had to have
sexy panties and suspender belt .....  "Hippy loves lingerie"....  Black
was rejected as it left a grey shadow through the diaphanous white silk,
but pastel blue was just perfect, the exact shade to match the colour of
her eyes and to set off her all-over golden tan perfectly.  Stockings, of
course, and not the "one-size stretch" type either.  Expensive Italian
fully fashioned that handled like retro true silk.  Four-inch high heels,
white, with open toes to show her pretty little toes and pink varnish to
match lipstick and finger nails.

   "I could eat you, Candy, you're so lovely!"

   "I expect you will, Marie, and I am going to eat you again too.  Seems
Hippy like to watch girls having fun.

   "He's a dedicated voyeur as well as all the rest.  Loves to watch any
combination of boys and girls.....  and now trannies I'm told."

   Excited and giggling....  Candice found the girlish laughter
infectious......they went off to Candice's appointment with Hippy.



   ......................................

   He greeted them jovially but respectfully: Marie was an equal in these
sexual matters!

   Candice had been half-hard since putting on the silk stockings, but her
cock twitched into full erection at the sight of his impressive figure,
lean but obviously muscular, broad shouldered and snake-hipped under the
casual but clearly designer-elegant and hideously expensive casual
clothes....  a white silk shirt that clung to developed pecs, and
immaculately fitted denim jeans.  Hand-tooled slip-on brown leather shoes.

   His greeting embrace of Candice morphed into an overtly sexual,
open-mouth to open-mouth kiss, his hand sliding into that inviting opening
up the dress, and cupping her arse.  She felt free to grope his....  hard
and muscular.  He would be a virile fucker, she thought with mounting
excitement as she pushed her tongue past his and into his mouth.

   "Undo her dress, Marie sweetie."

   The bow at the neck pulled slowly, so slowly, and the front of the dress
dropped down to show her small, perfect breasts with their small aureoles
but long, upright nipples.  His lips were on a nipple immediately making
Candice moan a moment of pleasure.  She heard the six inch zip at the back
feeling his hand trace down the naked flesh, making her shiver.  She
stepped out of the pool of white silk at her feet as Hippy held her at arms
length, a hand on each shoulder and whistled a long, clear note.

   "Magnificent.  So lovely!"

   "Not fair, Hippy.  Marie and I want to see you too...."

   The two of them had the buttons on his shirt and trousers popped in a
second, had those shoes off, and the young man with the body of a god stood
naked in front of them.  'Bigger than his dad' Candice thought as she
looked at his shaven pubes, thick and long cock erect, big, flaring purple
knob stretched so the eye was open.  'No pre-cum', she thought.  'Yet!'

   "Magnificent.  So manly!"

   He laughed at her echoing his words, but could see from the glint in
those baby-blue eyes that she meant it.

   Meanwhile, Marie stripped slowly and sensuously down to waspie,
stockings and heels before Hippy propelled the two near-naked girls to the
huge four-poster bed with its white satin sheet.  Candice was glad Hippy
obviously had something of a lingerie and shoes fetish, just as she had.  A
kindred spirit!  She doubted, however, if he took it as far as sampling his
girls' satin wardrobe to try the pretties for size over his muscular body!

   There was no doubt at all what he wanted as he arranged them on the bed,
Marie on her back, a pillow under her n bottom, lifting her pussy.  He
pulled her legs apart and bent them at the knees, his hands lingering a
second or two longer than necessary on the nylon stockings.  Like this her
pussy, lips puffy but nearly closed, clitoris just peeping out at the top,
her pussy was so available.  He whispered instructions in Candice's ear: he
wanted her to fuck her maid, while he fucked Candy in the arse, a threesome
he had been looking forward to since his father had shown him Candy's
photograph portfolio a month earlier.  He lusted after the blonde tranny
with her hard little tits, a stiff little cock: Angelique with her more
feminine tits, lusher body, bigger cock was ok but not super sexy like this
one.

   Candy shuffled into position between those spread legs, leaned forward
and kissed first one erect nipple then the other while she wiped her cock
between cunt lips, in the moistness of her maid's arousal.  Then, so
easily, the warmth, wetness and youthful grip of her vagina around Candy's
cock.  As Marie's hips rose Candy thrust till two shaven pubes met,
grinding together.  Both paused, enjoying the moment, while Candy felt the
much more familiar sensation of lubricant being spread between buttocks,
and the gentle probing of a finger.

   "I'm ready for it, Hippy.  No need to wait.  Just put it in, please, and
fuck as hard as you want....

   For a second or two they were out of kilter, and momentarily Candy's
cock slipped out, making a shrill little protest from Marie.  Soon back in
again, but then Hippy slipped out and all three stopped a moment while he
placed his knob and pushed in again.  This time they got the rhythm right,
Candy fucking in time with Hippy's thrusts, and Marie's hips rising and
falling synchronised with Candy.  As Hippy speeded up so did Candy and
Marie.

   Marie was the first to cum, noisily with little squeaks of pleasure and
then those grunts, deep from somewhere in her chest to accompany each
spasm. Hippy found this triggered him, and, slapping Candy's bum with each
thrust he came, a spurt at the very end of each of five great heaves into
her anus.

   Candy had not cum: nearly, but had managed to hold the moment off:
better to travel than arrive, as she well knew.

   But Hippy pulled out and rolled Candy over on her side so her cock
slipped out of Marie.  Still stiff, but shining with Marie's wetness.

   "I wanted this, too, Candy!  Been promising myself all month."

   What he wanted was her cock.  She was amazed.  Yes, plenty of men
indulged their latent bisexuality by sucking her cock: she was sufficiently
feminine in all other respects for it not to seem "gay" to them.  She loved
being fucked in the arse and then sucked off by these, often married, men.
But Hippy had seemed so macho...  unlikely.  But wonderfully sexy,
especially when he pulled Marie round so the two of them were sharing
Candy's cock and pink, hairless ball-sack.

   Candy could not hold her orgasm back as his lips were round her cock,
and Marie's were gently pulling at her ball-sack.  Which would get her cum,
Hippy or Marie she wondered?

   Hippy, of course.  And probably a lot of cum as she spurted three times,
and he swallowed it all.  When he finally kissed her she could taste her
cum, feel it slippery as her tongue entered his mouth.

   ................................

   They lay, silent all three, fondling each other, Marie and Candy mostly
exploring Hippy's body, Hippy learning the contours of Candy's.

   Finally....

   "Marie.  You know Jasmine's Room?"

   "Yeah!"

   "Go get her.  Have her dress like you and Candy and bring her here.  Oh,
and on the way in chose the best looking, beefiest of the gurds outside the
door and bring him in with you.  Orgy time!"

   ...................................

   "She'll be gone ten minutes or so, Candy."

   "Great!"

   Candy was stiff again, and so was he, and they kissed.

   "Marry me, Candy!"

   She laughed.

   "You shouldn't joke about that, Hippy!"

   "Not a joke.  I mean it.  You're perfect.  Perfect body, clever, happy,
and a lovely little cock.  I really mean it.  I want to marry you."

   Ask me tomorrow evening,Hippy, if you still feel the same by then, and
I'll answer.  Now what can we do for ten minutes.......?



   ...........................................

   Both Marie and Candy were completely knackered by the time they got back
to Candy's room.  They peeked into Angelique's but the crowd of men and
Angelique herself had gone.  All evidence of the torture and rape had been
cleared away and cleaned up.  The mistress and her maid were both too tired
to shower, simply fell naked into bed in each others' arms and were asleep
in seconds....

   The next day no-one could or would tell them where Anglique was though
it was obvious some knew from their shifty looks, embarrassed.  However, as
they sat in the palace restaurant at lunchtime one of the serving maids
brushed against Candy's back with the tip of a breast, apologised, and as
she did so slipped a folded paper under Candy's plate.  Streetwise, Candy
ignored it for a moment or two, and then when the maid had gone opened it.
It was a sad little message scribbled on toilet paper with a blunt pencil:
"Help me, Candy.  They raped me.  thirteen of them, over and over again. 
They whipped me.  The General was in charge of it all.  Then they pissed on
me and dragged me away.  I'm in the House of Joy and was raped by six men
so far tonight, with a queue of as many again waiting: it's going to be
like that every day they say, and no way out.  Help me!".

   Candy passed the flimsy paper to her maid.

   "What's the House of Joy, Marie?"

   "It's the army brothel.  They put drug addicts and trouble makers in
there if they are pretty.  If the General did it there is no way out, and
this paper is very dangerous."

   She put it in her mouth, chewed, swallowed, and took a drink to wash it
down.

   "There.  Safe now!"

   ..........................................

   That was all four years ago.

   The wedding was about a month after Hippy's proposal was accepted, and
was a grand affair, though Candy had more sense than to marry in white! 
The great and the good of all continents either came or sent younger royals
etc and the honeymoon was part in Paris, shopping and fucking, and part in
Rome, fucking.

   And not just ordinary fucking: in the marriage contract Marie became
Candy's "Companion" and they each took a pretty little palace girl along as
"maids"....  even younger than Marie.  In addition Candy was allowed to
personally vet and chose the six "security officers" that accompanied the
party, testing these beefy soldiers for their sexual endurance and general
bed-time skills.  So the honeymoon was more of a travelling orgy than a
conventionally romantic time.

   It became the most open of all "open marriages".......

   The General died about a couple of years later when his helicopter
crashed: Candy had more sense than to ask Hippy if it really was an
accident, but he showed very little grief except in public, and she had her
unspoken suspicions.  "Served the old devil right", she thought remembering
how Angelique had been treated....
As for Angeliique, they had been able to do nothing for her till The
General was gone, and by then her "Angel" was addicted to drugs, alcohol
and sex, especially sex!  And her life in the army brothel gave her all she
could handle of her three great needs, so it was "Thank you but no thank

you" when they offered her rescue.

   No need to say any more: Hippy and his wife are seldom out of the
tabloid press and magazines so that is where to follow the scandals and
half-envious censures that document their happy life together and their
travels to various celebrity hot-spots around the world.

   ..............................................