Message-ID: <7947eli$9801310022@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/7947.txt> From: MelLin6695@aol.com Subject: New TG - from Waldo - Death Row 2 - 3 of 9 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-ID: <6b0a739b.34d21619@aol.com> Chapter 3 Warning - not for reading by minors. Story deals with transgender and sexual themes. All rights reserved. This story may not be sold or distributed by anyone unless it is distributed free. Copyright must remain with the story. Death Row - Part 2 By Waldo Chapter 3 - Trailer Park Slut The harsh ringing of the cheap doorbell woke Greg Mahoney up. Sitting upright, he glanced at the clock, observing it was only noon. Working shifts at the prison, he was used to sleeping during the day and working nights. Shaking the sleep from his head, he stood up and stretched as the unexpected visitor pressed the doorbell again. Yelling, "Ok, I'm coming." he slipped on a pair of shorts. He strode through the narrow hallway of his trailer, feeling his anger increase as he wondered who the asshole was at his door. The sign posted on his door, explicitly stated that he was a shift worker and solicitors weren't allowed. Jerking open the front door, he stared at the unknown smiling woman standing on his doorstep. She was wearing one of those cut-off halter-top T-shirts that revealed every square inch of skin between the bottom of her boobs and her belly button. Around her waist, she wore a blue-jean cut-off shorts, exposing her long, shapely legs supported by a pair of three-inch red high heel shoes. Her curly mane of red hair glistened in the sunlight. He'd never seen her before, knowing that he would remember someone that looked as pretty as she did. She removed her sunglasses, smiling at him with her beautiful gray-green eyes, giving him a moment to notice her bright pouty red lipsticked mouth, and lightly highlighted cheeks, showing her delicate bone structure. She flicked her tongue across her lips, making her lips glisten more as she softly asked "Hope I didn't wake you. I moved into the trailer two lots down yesterday and I need some strong muscles. Saw your car and hoped someone was home. I've got a beer keg in the back of my car and I can't lift it out by myself. I'll give you a beer, if you'll help me. I'm your new neighbor - Andrea Bell from Idaho." ****** The old Chinaman was down on his knees as if he was praying when one of his grandsons entered the room. The younger man waited patiently until the elder family patriarch acknowledged his presence with the simple questions "How is she?" Bowing his head respectively, the younger man replied "Very angry. She keeps screaming at us and demanding to know where her real body is. She doesn't recognize that we're the good guys yet." His face formed a small grin before the elder statesman responded "Are we the good guys? It was my ancient ritual that stole her body. It was another ancient ritual that put her soul and memory into the body of the dead prisoner - into the former body of the man that now inhabits her body. If I was in her shoes - correction - If I was her, I wouldn't think that we were the good guys either." Motioning to his grandson to help him to his feet, the grandson helped his grandfather up as the younger man suggested "As soon as our guest calms down, I'll try to explain to her what happened to her and why. How you were forced to do this to save the life of our cousin and maybe she will see why she should cooperate with us. After all when we get our cousin back, you can put her back into her body." The old man raised his head, allowing the grandson to stare into the old man's pitch black eyes "Once a soul leaves a body, I can't put it back. I can move it to other bodies but can never send it back into a former body. She's cursed to never return to her body." ****** The car drove slowly down the dark lane, the driver looking at the different addresses on the trailers, trying to read them in the dim light from the few overhead lights. The car stopped at a completely dark trailer and waited for about thirty seconds, before backing up and pulling into the small parking spot beside the dark trailer. The car door opened and a small, slender woman stepped out of the car. In the dark, it was difficult to tell much about her except that she wore a trenchcoat. She knocked on the door and waited. When she didn't hear any response, she tried the doorknob and found the door was unlocked. She opened the door and stepped barely inside the dark trailer, keeping the door opened. She searched the wall with her hand, looking for a light switch. She found one and flicked it, but the lights didn't come on. Turning around, she started to step out of the trailer when someone grabbed her arms from behind, pulled her arms back and pinned them against her back. "Going somewhere, bitch?" a man's deep voice whispered with a snarl. "I'm supposed to be attending a surprise birthday party. I thought this was the place." the obviously scared woman stammered. "Yeah, and I'm Peter Pan." the man responded as he stuffed a handkerchief in her mouth, quieting her down before she could scream. She tried to reach the handkerchief with her hand, but the muscular man pulled her arms back behind her back and clicked a pair of handcuffs closed around her wrists. With her arms restrained and her mouth gagged, the almost helpless woman struggled against her attacker, striking out with her feet. After contacting with the man's leg with one kick, the man spun her around and slapped her hard across the face with the back of his hand. The dazed woman almost fell except the man was still holding onto her. While she was dazed, he hustled her down the dark hallway to a bedroom where the windows had been blacked out. A small night-light was faintly illuminating the bathroom, showing the general layout of the bedroom. The man pushed her onto the bed. All of a sudden the lights were turned on. The woman jumped at the sudden brightness. Standing over her was a man with a mask on. The man wore a uniform that looked like a policeman's uniform but it wasn't. Around his waist, he wore a gunbelt but except for the nightstick, it wasn't the standard police gunbelt. Nor were the almost knee high black boots with the pants tucked into the boots. The man stepped forward with a blindfold mask and the woman twisted, trying to escape him. He easily held her by using his heavier body weight to hold her still, while he slipped the blindfold on her. After she was blindfolded, a door opened and someone else entered the room. The man spoke in a phony harsh guttural tone as he proclaimed "She was breaking into your trailer and I caught her. I know that she's not going to cooperate, so I'm going to punish her until she changes her mind. Help me strip her." The woman was breathing heavily, as she strained against her bonds. She was pulled to her feet and held by a strong grip as someone - the new person, unbuttoned her trenchcoat. The coat was pulled off her shoulders but the handcuffs stopped the coat removal. There was a moment of silence and then the woman heard the click-click sound of scissors as one of her captors cut the coat off of her. The woman resisted but a hard slap across the face stopped her resistance. She just stood there as they stripped her of her blouse, skirt, panties, bra, pantyhose and shoes, using the scissors to undress her. In a few minutes she was completely naked. The man pushed her onto the bed and began securing her wrists and ankles until her legs were spread-eagled. Then the man held her wrists as the other person fumbled with a key, opening the handcuffs. When the handcuffs were removed, the woman reached for her gag, trying to remove it so that she could scream. A strong big hand and a smaller hand grabbed both of her wrists and pulled her back onto the bed. Another pair of handcuffs clicked upon each wrist, as her upper body was also restrained to the bed in a spread eagle position. A woman's voice declared in a triumphant gloat "She's yours. When you're finished with her, I'll play with her." The bed moved slightly as a heavy weight sat on the bed. A large, male hand began to rub up and down her heaving boobs, twisting and pinching the nipples with his strong fingers. The woman groaned as the man pulled hard on one of her firm nipples, almost lifting the woman from the bed, before he released it, letting it snap back. She moaned loudly. The other female voice declared "Look how hard her dark nipples are and look at her pussy - she shaves it like that so that she can wear a bikini. Her luscious pussy lips are almost glowing with excitement. She likes this. You're doing great, my dear." The man held his nightstick above the woman's breasts, staring at her heaving breasts. He rubbed the nightstick slowly against her nipples, teasing the nipples with the wooden toy. The restrained woman had quit struggling and her hips were moving slowly as if she were rubbing her cunt against an invisible lover. The man slowly rubbed the nightstick down her stomach, softly parting the woman's closely trimmed pubic hair with the nightstick end. As it caressed her pussy lips, the woman's hips were rising, trying to meet the nightstick and to take it into her. Her muffled groans, her flushed body and rapid humping motions made it clear that she was enjoying this bondage and abuse. The sound of the bedsprings was the only sound in the bedroom. As the restrained woman stretched her hips, waiting for the nightstick to enter her, the other woman softly cooed "yeah, my baby likes this rough stuff, doesn't he! Well, momma's got a big surprise for daddy. While you play with our new friend, I'm going to play with daddy's little man." The soft sound of a zipper being unzipped broke the silence of the bedroom. Then the nightstick that was pressed firmly against the restrained woman's pussy, slightly jerked as if the man had received a mild electrical shock. The silence of the room faded away - replaced by loud, slurping sounds and the creak of the bedsprings from the bound woman's reaction to the movements of the nightstick rubbing against her. ****** The 5-inch heels on the black stiletto pumps, increased Andrea's normal 5 foot 10 inch height so that her new, bouffant hairstyle almost rubbed against the low ceiling as she walked down the trailer's narrow hallway to the bathroom. Turning on the single overhead bathroom light, she stared at her trailer-park-woman image in the dirty mirror. She was dressed more exotically than normal, in the privacy of her rented trailer. Although she hated trailers, she enjoyed the games that she'd been playing with her former guard in this rented trailer. Over the last two weeks of almost constant sex and games with him, she'd molded him into her sex slave. In her previous incarnation as Robert Williams, she'd noticed little things about Officer Mahoney's personality - clues that indicated that he might enjoy heavy domination under a more relaxed environment than the Death Row cellblock. In her former life as Bob Williams, she knew that Mahoney liked discipline but didn't really know how much he liked it - until now, that is. She'd let him fuck her within one hour of her knocking on his door, starting from that point to claim him as her toy. When she saw his eyeballs pop out of his sockets as he opened his door, she knew that she had him where she wanted him. By the time that he had to leave her bed that first evening so that he could report to work, she knew that he belonged to her - he just didn't know it yet. Every day and night since then, she pulled him closer, each time claiming a little more of him, asserting her dominance over him but doing it so that he surrendered to her. She started with mild domination and spanking his butt, teasing him about how hard his cock could be when his ass cheeks were tender from her hairbrush spankings. He proved her right. She continued by not letting him touch her in his trailer, where he was the master, only permitting him to have their romantic liaisons in her trailer. She continued by constantly dressing exotically in the type of lingerie that can only be found through catalogs - lots of leather, brads, studs, elbow length gloves, knee high boots, halter tops and wearing heavy make-up. By her fourth day with him, he was wearing a small leather collar and letting her lead him around the house - letting her tell him when he could pee and when he should have an erection. He would come home from work and go straight to her trailer where he now lived. Inside the trailer, she would undress him, rubbing her long, sensuous fingernails across his hairy chest as she removed his uniform. He would stand at attention as she undressed him, enjoying the tongue-lashings that she used against the sensitive parts of his body. She would alternate blowing him with letting him eat her as part of their welcome home ritual. Sometimes she would make him remain naked all day, other times she would make him wear the panties that she'd worn for the last several hours. She made him exercise daily - his pushup's augmented by her lying under his body, requiring him to rub his erect cock between her tightly clinched legs while every downward motion had to cumulate in him stopping when their nipples rubbed together. She enjoyed the feel of his throbbing erection pressing against her lower belly, wanting to enter her, but held back by her rapidly increasing control of his will. She made him do his sit-ups while wearing a blindfold; and her standing with her legs spread. He would have to come up slowly, using only his nose to guide his extended tongue - if he didn't touch her in the exact spot with only his tongue, she didn't count the sit-up as part of his daily quota. She didn't cook, but she would go to the store and shop while he worked, letting him cook and clean for them. She had several pictures of him as he stood by the sink washing dishes - wearing either only her panties or an apron, his erect cock very evident under the material. She liked taking pictures of him in obscene or dominated poses. She bought several boxes of Polaroid film and every day would snap off eight to twenty pictures of Greg as he humbled himself to her. She posted the pictures on the bedroom wall, and frequently re-arranged them or discarded pictures that no longer fit her "d,cor". One of her favorite pictures was a close-up where she put make-up and her blonde wig on Greg, then dripped a mixture of Oil and Ranch salad dressing on his face as if it were cum. Then she posed next to Greg's smiling face with a large hot dog held tightly between her thighs as if she had a semi-erect and all beef cock. He willingly posed for her, enjoying the way that she fused over him and always found some way to reward him afterwards. His favorite pictures were the ones where she made him stand in a corner like a `bad little boy' and wear his pink panties. Their time together was almost constant sex. He enjoyed the way that she manipulated him and could maintain an almost constant erection when she demanded it. Five times in a day was very common for him, with her experiencing twenty to thirty orgasms herself. Throughout the sex and games, she never forgot her ultimate goals - to seek her personal revenge upon a man that enforced the harsh prison rules upon her and to do something to her friend, John Augustus, that he would never forget. Nothing to hurt John, but something that they could laugh about later - when John got his new body and better understood the personality changes in being free and female. Greg objected to her constant questions about his job and the inmates, but she explained that by his opening up to her, proved his love for her. Yes, he admitted by the third day that he loved her and asked her to marry him. She promised to give him an answer after several tests of his love - tests that she would reveal one at a time. The first test was simple. All he had to do, was wear a pair of her panties to work. His objections that guards were occasionally searched as part of the security system didn't sway her. She teased and cajoled him until he walked out of her trailer - with a black pair of her panties on under his uniform. Two days later, he walked out again with her panties on, but this time there was a small dildo tucked away in his butt and his butt cheeks taped over so that he couldn't remove it while at work. He worked a full shift with her small dildo tucked inside his ass, constantly reminding him of her control over him. When she let him take it out after work, he had one of the firmest erections that he'd ever experienced. She made him tell him details about his work - details that she secretly already knew, but wanted to get him to reveal to her. She asked details about each of the prisoners, finally settling on the man that Mahoney felt sorry for - John Augustus. A once powerful man reduced to a little man waiting for his cancer to claim him, yet still fighting to keep the state from claiming him. Last night, she asked Greg about the prisoner's sex life, knowing that it was non-existent under the tight security of Death Row. She hinted about how nice it would be, if the dying man could be given one last opportunity to get his rocks off. Then she changed the subject, getting Greg's rocks off with a powerful blowjob. Each time that he surrendered a little more to her domination of his actions and thinking, she rewarded him before claiming dominance in another area. The woman earlier had been one of his rewards. The woman - a prostitute that Andrea had hired, was a release valve for Greg's desire to have something to dominate. Knowing quite well how pecking orders work, Andrea had hired someone for Greg to dominate while she continued to dominate him during that multi-layer sex session. Starting at her stolen face in the mirror, Andrea touched up her lipstick, applying it thick and heavy. Her makeup was heavier than normal, making her look very sluttish. She called it her trailer park slut look. It reminded her of the days when she was in jail the first time and her - that is, the young Robert's new boyfriend required him to wear heavy makeup during their romantic liaisons. The jailhouse Robert couldn't dress like a woman, but the smuggled in lipstick, blush and mascara could transform his face into a semblance of femininity. She adjusted her fully exposed breasts within the halter. It was a new, shiny studded leather halter that kept them firmly encased while allowing access to the nipples by someone's tongue. From the waist down, she wore a matching leather skirt with zippers up each side, - one side unzipped to show that she wasn't wearing any panties - black spike five-inch heels, and fishnet hose. Her hands were encased in long leather gloves that laced up to her elbows and were open for the palms and fingers. She applied some perfume, not the normal perfume that she enjoyed, but a strong heady perfume to constantly remind Greg of her presence. She examined her glued-on two-inch long fingernails, hoping that the glue would hold better than it did last night, when she raked her fingernails down his back during a moment of passion and lost two nails. Satisfied with her general appearance, she turned out the light and walked forcefully down the hall, knowing that he was waiting in the candle-lit bedroom, listening for the clicking of her heels on the trailer's linoleum floor. She opened the door, observing immediately that he was in the position that she taught him. He was kneeling, facing the door, but his head was bowed and his hands were behind his back. She stepped forward, using long swaggering steps, stopping only inches in front of him. She stood there for several seconds in silence, letting him enjoy the smell of her perfume and her nearness. She mashed her cigarette into a half-filled ashtray on the nightstand and adjusted her breasts within the bra. The room was quite except for the faint sound of wind chimes tinkling in the corner. One of the first games that she'd played with him, had been where she had him bring inside some wind chimes and hang them from the ceiling. Then they aimed a small fan at the chimes and made love while listening to the tinkle sound of the chimes. One chime had a distinctive sound and they used that sound to pace their ever-changing rhythm. Listening to the chimes, she recognized that Greg had pulled the fan back, resulting in a slower pace for them as the chime sounded off less frequently. That was the one delegation of authority that she permitted him during their sex - letting him choose the rhythm. Tonight would be slow and delicious. He knelt, his only movement being his chest's small breathing movements and his nose twitching as he used his sense of smell to try to smell her - to smell more than just the perfume. While Andrea had been paying the prostitute and dismissing her, he had cleaned his body and prepared himself for her return. She knew that his prison issued handcuffs were tightly clicked around his wrists behind his back. She saw the small leather collar around his neck. There was a small nipple clamp on his left nipple. Otherwise, he was nude. She knew that he had been kneeling patiently as he waited for her return; his obedience to her commands now as natural to him as eating or sleeping. A grin formed on her face as she observed that he was obviously at full attention, a good size erection all ready for whatever game she wished to play tonight. He had enjoyed the prostitute and released his last vestiges of aggression on her. The release of his pent-up last traces of dominance had turned him into a submissive living hunk of flesh - flesh to be molded as she desired. She knew that now he would never be able to resist her and accepted her as his complete Mistress. In two short weeks of sex and games, she'd molded him into her absolute slave. Looking over at the nightstand, she saw the double-headed dildo and the lubricating jelly. It had been stored in the nightstand for the last week with the understanding that she would use it on him again when he was ready. She'd fucked him the first night that she brought it home, but it had upset him, so she promised him that she wouldn't use it again until he was more comfortable with it. Tonight he had removed it from storage so she knew that he wanted her to fuck him. She smiled to herself as she stepped forward until her cunt was only inches from his lips. Tonight she would take her time and by morning, he would be her total slave - allowing her to do whatever she desired to him. She let him smell her. She let him know that she was his woman if he was a good little boy. Stepping back quickly, she opened the drawer and removed a tube of lipstick, knowing that she was almost rubbing her ass in his face as she bent over. She twisted the lipstick bottom, rolling the gleaming lipstick up to it's maximum length. Turning back around to face Greg, she cupped his jaw forcefully with her hand, holding his face still as her fingers pushed his lips out so that he looked like a goldfish - all lips. Touching the red lipstick against his lips, she smeared it on heavily, not caring that the finished product looked like it had been applied by a drunk blind woman. When she finished, she discarded the lipstick as she whispered "My little baby is a whore tonight - a cheap whore. If you get any lipstick on me, I'll have to punish you." She smiled at him, knowing that he would somehow get a slight smudge somewhere on her body. She picked up the double- headed dildo and started lubricating the end that she would insert into herself. She would leave the other end dry - the end that she intended to use to pleasure her "little whore" with. Tonight, she would take him to the height of passion and then give him the commands. The commands that she'd been thinking about, ever since she started this game. The command intended to let John Augustus have one last sexual experience as a man. ****** "Martha, I saw Conway's truck parked back up in the woods again. I know he likes to hunt with his dogs at night, but there ain't that much game around that old farmhouse. I think that he's up to no good hanging around that new city woman's house." "Jeff's always been a good boy. It's only when he's around Scotty or one of those junkyard boys that he gets into trouble. And we both know that Scotty's in jail serving time for his drunken driving arrest. Clive said that he would be locked up for at least ten days." "Whenever Scotty gets out of jail, he always runs straight to those moonshiners house over on Branch Avenue, drinks some white lightening and gets back in trouble the same day. I don't look for him to change this time. I think that I'll stop by our neighbor's house and give her a friendly warning. If I can figure out a way to do it, without frightening her unnecessarily, that is." -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | <http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/><http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>