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The French Twins (Les Gemeaux Francais)
by Thomas Legier (address withheld)

***

A young French man finds out he was adopted as a baby. 
Then his adopted parents receive a letter from Canada 
from his maternal grandmother. His birth mother has 
died. He visits his grandmother in Montreal to find out 
about his past and offers to help her in her lingerie 
boutique while he's there. But she's hesitant because 
he's a man and the women clientele would be 
uncomfortable with a man around. They come up with a 
solution, one where his grandmother's dominant 
personality comes to the fore. (MF, cd, d/s, inc)

***

I was born in Toulouse eighteen years ago in a small 
apartment overlooking the Garonne river in the south of 
France. This is about all I knew of my birth because my 
mother gave me up for adoption to a young couple who was 
childless and I never saw or met my birth mother again.

I grew up as an only child in a very middle class French 
family, even attending Lycee in Paris. I only learned of 
my adoption when I was twelve from my adoptive mother 
and I often wondered what my birth mother would think of 
me, and I of her, after so many years.

One day a letter came from Los Angeles in America for my 
mother. It was from a woman named Monique Tourneau who 
explained that she was the mother of my birth mother, my 
grande-mere I had never met. She also explained that my 
mother had died in an auto accident where she was living 
in Montreal. I was filled with sadness knowing that I 
was never to see my birth mother alive but I decided I 
would like to visit my grande-mere, Monique, in Los 
Angeles to see what I could learn about my mother.

I sent Monique a letter and a recent picture of me at 
the sea, and asked to visit her to talk about my mother. 
She was very happy to get a letter from me and sent me a 
picture of herself as well. Monique was 42 years old, 
with blond hair and a beautiful face, especially her 
blue eyes which were like mine. She was wearing a black 
dress which showed quite a bit of cleavage and I 
remember thinking she looked pretty sexy for a grande-
mere. She wanted me to come visit her and stay at her 
apartment so I borrowed some money from my folks, got my 
passport, and left Orly for LAX on a Saturday.

Once in LA I took a cab to her apartment. It was in West 
Los Angeles near Melrose where there are many clothing 
shops. When I arrived at the address she sent me I 
thought it might be a mistake because it was the address 
of a corsetiere, or lingerie shop as they say in 
America. Then I noticed there was a stairway beside the 
shop that led up to some apartments above the shop. I 
rang the bell and held my breath.

"Mon dieur, Thomas," Monique said smiling with suddenly 
tearful eyes. "I never believed I'd see you and now, 
here you are. Hurry, come in. We have so much to 
discuss."

We hugged for a bit and she kissed me several times 
until I felt a twinge of embarrassment at her affection. 
She was my grande-mere but she was also a very stunning 
and attractive woman that I'd never known before in my 
life. She had voluptuous breasts that squeezed against 
me as she held me. I hoped she wouldn't notice that I 
had developed an unexpected erection.

We had coffee and shared a small gateau as she told me 
about my mother. Her name was Julie and she was only 
sixteen when I was born. My father was another boy in 
the town who refused to marry her so she gave me up. 
Later she moved to Montreal and worked as a dancer in a 
club. I sensed from Monique's tone that it was more 
seamy than she was letting on, but I didn't press her on 
it.

She showed me a few faded photos of my mother. She was 
more beautiful than I could have imagined which made her 
death all the more tragic to me. After several hours we 
began to discuss Monique and her life in America.

"I came here as a seamstress and now I own the 
corsetiere shop," Monique revealed with some pride. "I 
design lingerie for my clients, some of whom are in 
films and television and need some 'special' help with 
different areas. I am very good and... very discreet 
n'est pas. There is a shop in back where the lingerie is 
cut and sewn by my 'helpers'. They come to America from 
Mexico and I help them with work. They are very good 
workers and work very cheap."

"Perhaps I could help out in your shop while I'm here. 
It might help me earn my keep," I offered.

"Ah, that it could be," Monique replied with a grin. 
"The girl that usually helps me had a family emergency 
and will not be back for several weeks. I'm actually 
trying to hire a girl to help me during the day with the 
fittings and retail customers. But I'm afraid a man, 
especially a young handsome man like you Thomas, would 
make my woman clients... self-conscious. They often must 
undress completely to be fitted with the very sexy and 
revealing things I design. And they may spend hours 
before the shop mirrors in just their lingerie trying to 
decide what to buy. It's really just 'pour les dames' 
and yet... peut-etre..."

Monique looked at me with a very queer smile. Her eyes 
followed down my body to my legs and back up.

"Let me see your hands, Thomas. Hold them out for me," 
Monique asked.

She took each of my hands in hers.

"Mmmmm. You have small bones like Julie. And your nails 
are well kept.

Now, take down your pants," she insisted suddenly.

"Pardon?" I responded in a higher voice than even my 
usual tone.

"Thomas. I've seen a man before. I just want to see your 
legs for a moment, s'il vous plait?"

I was a bit hesitant since I had not worn underwear for 
some time. Yet I sensed that my nakedness before her was 
most commonplace. And I had never been shy before women 
before, even older women whom I'd bedded in Paris as a 
much younger boy. I unbuckled my jeans and dropped them 
to the floor, then stepped out of them. All I had on was 
a white polo shirt. My vigorous erection had reasserted 
itself and did not go unnoticed as Monique inspected me 
from her seat across the room.

"Perhaps you have something against underpants, mon 
cheri?" she chided me with a smile. "This is not good 
for my business. Turn. I want to see your derriere as 
well."

I modeled before her acutely aware that I was beginning 
to desire her and sensing that she was wanting me, as a 
woman wants a man to be a lover.

"You have very smooth legs, not unlike a woman as well. 
Your knees still look a bit boney but with the proper 
hose...Still you have a very small stature, your 
shoulders are not terribly broad, and you have very 
little body hair."

"What are you thinking, Monique? Do you think I could 
pass for a woman and work in the shop? Even if I looked 
like a woman, there are many small details that might 
give me away. Walking, for instance."

"C'est vrai. But I have seen men become women in both 
appearance and mind... with the right help. As you 
become a woman in dress... you will begin to feel and 
move like a woman. With a few pointers... and some of my 
custom lingerie, I think you might be a very pretty 
girl... not unlike your mother, Julie. Shall we see what 
Monique can do?"

I had seen the 'drag queens' at the various shows in 
Paris and I knew how beautiful a man could become, to 
the point that it was almost impossible to tell he was a 
man. I had never been attracted to any 'gay' experience 
yet the notion of making up and dressing in the sensuous 
clothes of a woman excited me...unexpectedly. Perhaps it 
would be fun as well.

"Where do we start, Monique?" I said removing my polo 
shirt and standing nude before her.

***

She moved next to me... close and warm. I expected her 
to kiss me but instead she reached down and wrapped her 
soft hand around my cock, leading me to the back of her 
apartment as if I were on a leash.

"Mon petit Thomas, you will never pass for a woman with 
this angry young cock poking out from under your skirt. 
I think we first my satisfy the man in you before we can 
bring out...the woman."

When we had reached her bedroom she stopped and reached 
down, lifting her knit dress up over her waist. She had 
on white thong panties and black thigh top stockings 
underneath. The stockings had lacy tops that contrasted 
with her smooth white thighs above. She lifted the dress 
all the way over her head and shook her long blond hair 
as it came off. Reaching in back, she released her white 
lace bra and freed her very large breasts. Her nipples 
were large and erect, circled by very wide aureoles that 
were dusty pink.

I bent and took her breast in my mouth, teasing the 
nipple till she moaned in a deep, hoarse voice. I moved 
down over her belly, licking and kissing her smooth warm 
skin. Her pussy hair was very neatly trimmed which I 
thought was odd for an older woman but it showed her 
care for herself. Her belly was only a bit paunched, 
just enough to make a soft fleshy fold for me to lick 
above her pubic hair.

As I opened her pussy with my fingers I noticed how 
fresh and wet she was. Her labia were thin and light 
pink, more like a young girls than a woman. I drew my 
tongue over her protruding clit and felt her thighs 
quiver against my cheeks.

"Your tongue feels so sweet. Put it inside me, Thomas. 
Eat my pussy." Monique gasped between her moans.

We moved to the bed where Monique demonstrated her 
appetite for sucking a man's cock. She took me into her 
mouth in long, deep strokes until I could feel the back 
of her throat with my tip. Her mouth was wet and her 
fingers stroked me faster and faster as if she wanted me 
to come in her mouth right then. Before I could erupt 
though, I stopped her and rolled her onto her back.

My beautiful grande-mere drew up her black stockinged 
thighs and opened her pink pussy for me. I slid into her 
carnal embrace feeling her thighs clasp my sides as my 
chest pressed into her warm, velvety breasts. We looked 
into each other's sparkling blue eyes as my cock began 
its lazy ascent up into her very wet vagina. With my 
balls were slapping against her, she closed her eyes and 
let out a long, passionate sigh.

We kissed and tongued one another, thrusting and rocking 
together in the most intimate of human experiences. I 
felt her arch up and shudder from her orgasm, holding 
her breath until the spasms of pleasure subsided then 
exploding in a gasp of utter joy and release.

"AHHHHHHHH, Mon Dieur, c'est incroyable. You fuck me so 
good, Thomas."

Inside her wetness flowed down over my cock like stream 
that trickled down the crack of her ass. I could no 
longer resist my own climax and with a few last violent 
strokes, I pulled out and spewed my hot semen out onto 
her pink pussy lips.

I would take more than just one orgasm to quell my young 
lust. We fucked with Monique on top and she came again 
at least twice more. I fucked her from the rear 'comme 
les chiennes' and shot my next load of semen onto her 
back. After a brief rest she sucked me off until I came 
in her mouth, at last feeling relieved and drained 
enough to lose my erection.

As I held her against me she spoke.

"You make love with fire, my Thomas. Like a fiery man. 
Now you must learn to look...and feel as a beautiful 
woman feels. Come, we must start the process now if you 
are to be ready to help me in the shop by Monday."

***

Monique led me from the bedroom to a door in the middle 
of her apartment that opened onto a staircase. I 
followed her down the stairs to the shop on the first 
level. She wore only her black stockings and high heels 
while I was still nude. We could stand only for a moment 
in the front of the shop which was visible from the 
street through the store window.

Further back were several stalls for changing each with 
a large full length mirror. There were also several 
leather chairs, a sofa against the wall, and a small 
coffee table perhaps for those waiting during the 
fittings. As we went through another door we came upon 
the sewing area. It was perhaps 10 by 15 meters and 
cluttered with sewing machines, rolls of fabric, and 
various tools used for making the custom lingerie 
including a number of mannequins. I counted four sewing 
machines all together making me suspect Monique was 
doing very well in her business.

As we walked to the very back of the shop I noticed a 
large exterior door painted bright red with small black 
lettering in the middle. The door appeared to lead to 
the building next door and was strangely out of place.

The lettering was in French: L'ECOLE DU DOULEUR

"Thomas," Monique called, "Stand over here by the table 
while I measure you."

I joined her beside a large wooden table covered with 
bolts of lace. She carefully measured my hips, chest, 
and waist, then shook her head.

"Giving you a woman's figure will take some doing. We 
must do as much as possible with the natural body before 
we resort to artificial padding. First, I must narrow 
your waist. That will bring out your hips and bust by 
itself."

She brought a white corset from the front of the shop. 
It had four garters attached and included a brassiere. I 
held it around my waist and she used a large metal hook 
to close it around me. I inhaled to bring in my abdomen 
and with much effort she fastened it. My waist was 
narrowed by almost four inches giving me a curving 
figure but nearly causing me to faint.

"Now, we must hide your manhood but in a way that will 
be wearable all day. Spandex panties would perhaps work 
but they would have to be too tight and warm. If you are 
going to wear a dress you should at least be cool and 
comfortable like a woman, n'est pas? No, let me have the 
corset and I will fix something more comfortable for 
you."

Monique cut a triangle of a very loose elastic mesh 
fabric and quickly attached an edge to the front of the 
corset. Then she sewed an elastic garter strap from the 
corner of the web to the back of the corset slipping it 
through an adjusting tab before affixing it. I put on 
the corset again and passed the strap between my legs. 

The web mesh pulled my penis and balls between my legs 
as Monique pulled the elastic strap taught in the back. 
My abdomen now protruded with the triangle of my pubic 
hair looking remarkably like a woman's. It would allow 
me to become erect without tenting out the front of my 
skirt or dress and without crushing my balls as well. 
The mesh allowed any breeze to pass through, keeping 
everything free and cool.

To fill my brassiere Monique used plastic inserts that 
felt incredibly realistic and even grew warm against my 
skin as they were held in place. I cupped my new breasts 
which felt so real and soft that I began to get aroused 
but the elastic webbing held me securely.

She measured my foot and brought out several pairs of 
stockings which I could try on with the rest of my 
clothes upstairs.

We returned to her apartment where she continued my 
transformation into a lovely woman. I removed the corset 
and caught my breath while Monique drew a hot bath for 
me. After soaking for a bit she carefully shaved the 
light hair on my legs, arms, and underarms, then had me 
shave my face twice very closely to remove any trace of 
stubble. I normally only shaved every other day or so, 
having a very light blond beard which grows slowly.

After toweling off she massaged me all over with a 
lightly scented oil that would smooth and soften my 
skin... and give me the floral fragrance of a woman. 
Then we walked back to the bedroom and sat before her 
large dresser mirror where she would begin to apply my 
makeup.

Monique was very skilled and applied only enough 
foundation and blusher to mask my rougher male skin but 
not too much that would look artificial. She carefully 
made up my eyes and lashes, then applied lip liner and 
lipstick to complete my face.

Before fitting me with a wig from her own collection she 
tied a nylon band around my forehead and pulled back my 
own hairline, lifting my forehead and eyebrows. My eyes 
were pulled up as well giving me an even more youthful 
and feminine expression. At last she place a brunette 
shoulder length wig on my head. The natural hair was cut 
straight with short bangs that fell just above my 
eyebrows.

I looked in the mirror but I did not recognize myself. 
Instead I was looking at an exquisitely beautiful young 
brunette woman, a woman I would have been most attracted 
to had I met her on the street. I was aroused at the 
sight of my own loveliness.

"May I call you...Terese? Yes, Terese it is," Monique 
said as she looked back smiling at me from the mirror. 
"Tres joli, Terese."

"What will I do for clothes, Monique? I doubt your 
things would fit me properly. You have such a woman's 
figure and mine is... well a bit straighter. And shoes. 
I'll need to get shoes," I said in a sudden panic.

"There was a girl who worked for me this summer who went 
back to school and left some things here. She was petite 
in the chest and about your height. Let me find her 
valise," Monique said as she rummaged through her 
closet.

"Ah, here it is. And she left some shoes here as well. 
Try them on first."

She handed me a pair of black patent leather high heels. 
I slipped them on my smallish foot and...voila, they fit 
as if they were my own. I stood somewhat unsteadily at 
first, walking about carefully until I felt I had my 
balance. The heels had the remarkable effect of forcing 
out by buttocks and exaggerating my calves which added 
to my feminine illusion.

Monique took a blue and white polka dot dress from the 
valise and held it against my nude form checking for 
length. It was perfect.

"Now," she said getting excited, "I want to see it all. 
I want to see Terese all dressed and ready for her new 
job in the lingerie shop."

She helped me back into the restrictive corset and 
attached the strap that pulled up the crack of my ass, 
holding my maleness between my thighs. I took off the 
shoes and sat on the bed, slipping on the sheer nylon 
stockings that Monique handed to me. The stretchy 
material clung to my bare legs like a second skin and 
felt smooth and utterly feminine. I had enjoyed feeling 
the stockings on a woman's legs many times, under her 
skirt, or against my back as we made love, but wearing 
them on my own legs was somehow more erotic.

Then I stood and dropped the lightweight dress over my 
head being careful not to muss my brunette tresses. As 
the silky material draped over me I shivered in 
pleasure. It clung to my new curves and swished about my 
legs as I walked briskly in the spindly high heels. I 
felt both dressed and yet nearly nude at the same time 
as the air wafted under the pleated full skirt revealing 
my thighs and a bit of my garters.

"Magnifique, Terese," Monique beamed. "But we must now 
see if you can fool the rest of the world as well as 
your dear grande-mere. Let's go out for a bit so you can 
practice walking and we can get your nails done. Your 
hands will give you away unless we do something about 
your nails."

Before leaving Monique found a purse for me to carry and 
a pair of Italian sun glasses. As we walked out onto 
Melrose a soft breeze blew past and lifted my skirt just 
a bit. Nervously I grabbed at it to keep it in place but 
Monique reprimanded me.

"All women are a bit of the exhibitionist, Terese. Don't 
be so modest, especially since you look so lovely. 
Unless you dress is blowing above your waist you should 
just let it tease your... admirers."

As we walked together arm in arm I could see the glances 
I was getting from several young men we passed. I had 
been on the other side many times trying to catch the 
eye of an attractive woman and I knew how to 
react...with bored indifference. It felt utterly 
powerful to ignore their looks and comments with a 
haughty flip of my brown hair.

We had dinner at a small cafe and then stopped at a nail 
salon where I had my fingernails done in the French 
style. I had mastered walking in the high heels quickly 
but my feet were becoming sore from my inexperience. It 
was just getting dark as we sat together on a bench in a 
small, nearly deserted park several blocks from 
Monique's apartment.

With her instructions I practiced sitting and crossing 
my legs to look more lady like. It took conscious effort 
to keep my knees together at first but I soon fell into 
the habit. Monique moved next to me on the bench and 
began caressing my thigh under my skirt.

"I hope you have not become too much of a woman and have 
lost the urge to be...  a man again."

Her hand pushed up my light skirt and forced my legs 
apart, then pulled the web mesh over my erection to one 
side freeing me at long last. She brought her tender 
mouth down over my stiff shaft and began sucking me as 
we sat on the public bench. I held her soft blond hair 
as her wet mouth glided rapidly up and down over my now 
slippery penis. I cupped my new breasts as if they were 
my own flesh experiencing both male and female pleasure 
simultaneously.

"Oh Monique. I'm going to come right now... Oh yes... 
yes... AHHHHHHHHHH!"

I ejaculated into her hungry mouth, my stockings 
pressing into her face as I arched up against her. After 
smoothing my skirt we got up holding hands in the 
European manner and walked back to her apartment.

I had so enjoyed my transformation that I was reluctant 
to undress, afraid to lose the feelings the clothes gave 
me. Then Monique produced a short nylon nightie from the 
valise and suggested I could sleep in that if I liked. 
It was very soft and silky and I wore it without the 
panties, falling asleep in the large double bed beside 
mon grande-mere.

***

Morning soon came and we bathed together in the large 
tub before Monique began dressing me and herself. 
Eventually I would learn to put on my makeup but it 
would be some time before she could trust me to create 
the correct effect. We went down to open the shop 
together about 11:00 in the morning.

At first Monique showed me how to work the cash register 
and had me do some restocking of shelves before any 
customers came in. The retail shop was filled with the 
most erotic panties and bras, camisoles and garter 
belts, and corsets and foundation items I had ever seen. 
It smelled of lilac and potpourri and I soon learned 
where everything was supposed to go.

Monique also showed me two appointment books. One was 
labeled 'Fittings'.

The other was marked 'Etudes'.

"Monique," I asked looking at the second book. "Do you 
also teach French? I saw the door in the back with the 
sign that said 'School of Pain'. I thought perhaps it 
was a student's joke. Is that what the 'lessons' book is 
for?"

"The 'etudes' are for some of my special clients. If you 
get a call from a woman wishing to schedule a lesson you 
will mark the time in this book. Perhaps if we are not 
too busy I will let you sit in when I give a lesson," 
she said with a strange expression.

As we spoke the front door opened and four Mexican women 
filed into the shop. They were the seamstresses that 
would be working in the back tailoring the custom orders 
for lingerie. Monique introduced me to each.

One was named Marissa and she was much younger than the 
others, perhaps seventeen or eighteen, and was obviously 
quite pregnant in her seventh or eighth month. She was 
also very pretty with dark eyes and long black hair that 
hung down her back. She was wearing a simple blue print 
maternity dress with a short skirt that revealed her 
lovely bare legs beneath.

I looked into her eyes and she smiled sweetly, then 
looked away embarrassed as she glided past me to the 
sewing room in the back of the shop. With her large 
belly and short loose dress she was very sexy to me and 
I vowed I would try to seduce her either as a Terese or 
Thomas, whichever she might prefer.

Whatever concern Monique might have had about my passing 
as a woman was soon forgotten as the day went on. 
Several women came in in the morning for 'fittings'. 
Monique had asked me to help with taking measurements so 
I escorted a young woman back to the dressing area in 
the middle of the shop.

She was an attractive married woman named Katheryn in 
her thirties and dressed nicely as if she were wealthy. 
I stood transfixed, trying not to reveal my interest as 
the woman began to casually undress before me. She 
removed her dress, her bra, and finally her pantyhose 
and panties and stood in the center of the carpeted 
dressing room totally nude as if she were in her own 
bedroom.

I could feel my erection straining at the web mesh as I 
carefully measured her breasts, then her waist, and 
finally her hips with my tape measure. My hands glided 
over her bare buttocks and brushed her pubic curls but 
she was unaware of my arousal. 

I could smell the mixture of her perfume and her woman 
scent as I leaned near her pussy to read the tape 
measure. I was squatting beside her with my skirt pulled 
up over my stockings but she could not see my pulsing 
cock pressed between my legs begging to be satisfied.

As I wrote down the measurements she sat back on the 
leather sofa, reading a magazine with one leg up giving 
me an unobstructed view of her open vagina. If this was 
working I must have died and gone to Heaven.

She selected several lacy teddies and custom bras which 
were tailored to her exact measurements by the women in 
the sewing area while she waited. I attended her while 
Monique was supervising two older women in their 
fifties, both as nude as the younger woman I was 
assisting.

The two women were going about trying on bras totally 
bottomless and quite without shame or modesty, after all 
they were only among women...or so they thought. Even 
Monique was intrigued and excited by our little secret 
and would occasionally glance at the front of my skirt 
for signs that my erection had penetrated the thin nylon 
mesh that restrained it.

By mid-afternoon my lust was overwhelming and I needed 
relief. I caught Monique as she was bringing something 
to the back of the shop. The dressing area was empty and 
only the sounds of the sewing machines humming in the 
back could be heard.

"Monique, please. I must fuck you or I'll go mad. All 
these nude women walking about has made me crazy with 
lust."

She smiled. "Just be quick about it, mon cheri." she 
winked as she leaned over the back of the leather chair 
and lifted her skirt in folds to her waist.

She was without panties, wearing only stockings and 
garters under her skirt. I quickly pulled up my dress 
and tugged the mesh fabric holding my cock to one side. 
My penis was fully erect and throbbing in anticipation 
as I slipped behind her and entered her from the rear. 
Her pussy was very wet.

"I have been turned on too, yes. If they ladies only 
knew what they were doing, mon dieur! Ooooo, your cock 
feels so good inside. Fuck me, Thomas, quickly," she 
gasped.

It took only a few moments for me to make Monique come. 
I reached around her waist and stroked her clit while my 
penis moved deep inside her, faster and faster.

"Oh yes, I cum... I'm cumming... YESSSSS...OHHHHHHHH!" 
she wailed as her orgasm convulsed her in pleasure.

He wet outpouring made her slicker than before inside 
and I could not resist my own ejaculation, this time 
letting everything flow into her without withdrawing. My 
semen gushed inside, suddenly released after the 
constant aroused state I'd been in as the only male in a 
harem of nude females.

We had barely finished when the phone rang and Monique 
went in to answer it. She wrote down some information in 
the 'Etudes' book then went upstairs to wash herself on 
the bidet while I minded the store.

I stepped back into the sewing area and found that it 
was quite warm in back with the machines running. Two of 
the women were busily sewing and were quite damp with 
sweat, their dresses spotted under their arms. My gaze 
turned to Marissa. She was also perspiring and her dress 
was wet in the arms and on her chest.

"It is very warm back here, yes?" I said to her with 
authority. "You should come up to the dressing area and 
cool off a bit?"

"That is very kind of you, Senorita Terese," she 
answered with a smile, getting up and following me to 
air conditioned area of the store.

"Your dress will dry out more quickly if you take it off 
and hang it up in the air, Marissa," I suggested. "You 
can let it dry during lunch, I won't tell anyone."

She seemed a bit shy at first but I insisted and she 
unbuttoned the front of the maternity dress and let it 
fall to her feet. Underneath she had on a white bra and 
cotton panties which were also a bit damp from 
perspiration. The skin of her protruding brown belly was 
taught and slick as were her thighs and arms.

"I think your bra and panties should dry off as well. 
Don't be shy, now, you're among girls," I said, winking 
at her, slyly.

Somewhat self-consciously she unclasped her maternity 
bra and removed her white cotton panties, hanging them 
over the back of the leather seat. Her nipples were 
almost black against her brown breasts and the aureoles 
covered almost the entire end of each. I could not see 
her pussy with her belly hanging over her abdomen until 
she sat on the sofa. She could not bring her legs 
together very well and her pink inner lips were plainly 
visible framed by her dark black pubic hair.

I sat next to her on the sofa letting my skirt pull up 
over my stockings. We talked a bit and I learned that 
she was not married and had come to America to have her 
baby so that it would be a citizen and she could get 
medical aid for herself and the baby. Back in Mexico she 
would not have been able to even see a doctor.

Gently, I began lightly stroking her bare inner thigh 
knowing that she would do anything to avoid being sent 
back to Mexico.

"Open your legs, Marissa," I instructed her. "You have 
such a beautiful young pussy. I want to feel it."

As my hand reached her pussy, she leaned back against 
the sofa, spreading her thighs wide and giving a long 
sigh of surrender. My middle finger probed up into her 
wet vagina then slid briskly over her firm clit in a 
circular motion that made her arch up in pleasure. I 
caressed her belly with my tongue then sucked on her 
black, velvety nipples making them stiff with lust.

"Oh, your mouth, Senorita, it feels so soft and wet. It 
is making me very hot," she moaned.

I moved to the floor between her thighs and began eating 
her gorgeous wet pussy, sucking her labia and teasing 
her clit till she could hold back no longer. My hand was 
pressed to her belly and I could feel her baby moving 
inside as she came with a sudden cry.

"Aiieeeee...Si, Oh, Senorita, it feels so good... 
OHHHHHHHH, OHHHHHHHH!"

Her orgasm made her vagina spasm inside against my 
finger and she took several moments to regain her 
composure.

"I have only done that to myself for many months since 
coming here. It felt so good to have the hands of 
another touch me...even if they were another woman. 
Still, I miss having real sex very much, too," Marissa 
admitted.

I did not want to have to explain my being dressed as 
Terese and I very much wanted to have sex with her as a 
man. If she learned of my little deception she might 
threaten to expose me to one of the customers and I 
could be deported myself. In a moment I came up with an 
impossible scheme.

"You can meet my twin brother, Thomas. He is also 
visiting Monique and I'm sure he would make you feel 
very good. He would not care that you are so... big, in 
fact, he would think you are quite sexy with your 
pregnant belly. I will tell him you will meet him... 
this Saturday, after work."

"I will be ready, Senorita Terese. Saturday we only work 
until two o'clock so your brother can come to my house 
after three. Will you tell your aunt that I did what you 
asked so she will not have me sent back to Mexico?" she 
said with an urgent tone.

I could tell she was very much afraid of displeasing 
Monique and returning to her life in Mexico. She was 
only too happy to do my bidding either as Terese or as 
her new twin brother, Thomas.

I gave her a French kiss before instructing her to get 
dressed.

"I will tell my aunt what a hard worker you are and how 
you deserve a big raise. Don't worry, you will have your 
baby in America, mon petit."

***

About an hour later a woman came in the shop that I 
instantly recognized from American TV. She was wearing 
sunglasses and a long coat over her somewhat overweight 
form. Underneath she had on slacks and a blouse which 
did not flatter her but she seemed more concerned with 
not being noticed than in looking like a TV star.

"Is Monique in? I'm here for a lesson," she said in a 
quiet high pitched voice.

"You are late," Monique suddenly said coming from the 
back. "I will have to be extra strict with you for this 
today. Are you ready to begin?"

The woman suddenly seemed to shrink and become like a 
small child. She was a famous person with much wealth 
and no doubt used to giving others orders. Her reply to 
Monique startled me.

"Yes...mistress. I am sorry for being late. Will you 
teach me not to be a bad girl and be on time?"

"Terese, watch the shop. I shall be back in one hour," 
she said to me in a warm voice. "Come, you bad girl and 
receive your punishment," she barked at the now 
humiliated celebrity.

Monique walked back through the dressing area, across 
the sewing room, to the red door connecting the shop 
with the next building. She unlocked it and led the 
woman through it. I could just see there was a second 
door at the end of a short hall, also painted red. She 
did not look at me as she closed the first door and 
latched it from the inside.

L'Ecole du Douleur, the School of Pain. So that was what 
'l'etudes' were about. Monique was a dominant mistress 
and her students were submissives seeking masochistic 
pleasure in their own pain. Grande-mere, what big teeth 
you have!

***

I would have liked to see what painful lessons Monique 
was teaching but someone would have to mind the store. A 
few minutes later a couple came in and began to look at 
lingerie. The girl was perhaps my age and very fair with 
long blond hair and sparkling green eyes. The man she 
was with was older and had dark hair with a goatee 
beard. 

She was in the book for a 'fitting' and wanted to have 
several bustiere corsets made for her that she would 
pick up tomorrow. As we chatted I learned that she was 
an actress in adult videos and used the lingerie in both 
her career and private life. With eager delight I 
escorted her to the fitting room while her boyfriend 
waited patiently in front.

She removed her short miniskirt under which she was nude 
and her pussy was totally shaved. Then she pulled off 
her top and revealed her gorgeous, pert breasts. My 
penis was pulling at the nylon web that held it beneath 
my skirt as I moved next to her to take her 
measurements. Her soft scent and body warmth stirred my 
inner lust and clouded all my reason and restraint. As I 
held the tape around her buttocks and hips I slid my 
fingers between her thighs and ran them over her open 
pussy lips.

She was startled at the contact but to my delight said 
nothing and made no effort to stop me as I continued to 
stroke her, arousing her and drawing her wetness to its 
fullness. She sighed as my finger began to roll her clit 
inside its hood and then turned to face me. We French 
kissed and her hands caressed my ass through my skirt 
lifting it almost to my waist. I didn't want her to 
discover my true gender so I had to break off the 
delicious kiss, pressing her back onto the leather sofa.

She pulled up her thighs and offered me her open wet 
vagina which I devoured with my lips and tongue. I 
licked her slit and sucked the nub of her clit as she 
twirled her own nipples in her slender fingers. Wetting 
my middle finger in her pussy juices, I inserted it as 
far as possible up her tight asshole as my tongue lapped 
faster and faster over her wet labia. 

I heard her gasp for breath as her orgasm approached, 
then felt her thighs clamp around my face as she 
convulsed in a glorious and unexpected climax with the 
strange French shop girl.

"Oh shit, yeah. God, your tongue feels so good... Oh I'm 
going to come right in your fucking... mouth... OH... 
OHHHH SHITTTT!"

Her wetness poured out and left my face glistening. In 
her reverie she lifted my skirt and caressed my 
stockinged-legs. My crotch was now exposed from behind 
but she could not see my erection pulled between my legs 
by the mesh webbing from her position. In a whisper she 
begged to return my unexpected favor and suck my pussy. 

Grasping for an excuse, I explained that I had just 
gotten my period which she accepted with a knowing smile 
and without hurt feelings. She was a bit shaky getting 
dressed and thanked me with another long kiss as she 
left with her patient... and ignorant boyfriend.

By the time I had washed up and reapplied my lipstick 
and blusher Monique was returning from L'Ecole with her 
celebrity student. The woman walked a bit awkwardly but 
smiled at me none the less as she left. Her cheeks 
appeared streaked as if she had been crying.

"You can help me with my 'students' after hours if you 
wish, Terese," Monique said to me as we shared coffee in 
the front of the shop. "I only allow my oldest clients 
to make appointments during the normal shop hours."

"Do you only discipline women or do you also have men 
that you 'teach'?" I asked.

"When I first came to Los Angeles I was a mistress at a 
club called Capricious for several years that served 
mostly men. But the men are sometimes very dangerous and 
not safe to work with. One of the other girls was killed 
outside by a man she had being disciplining. 

"I eventually decided to dominate women only because 
they were more controllable and I didn't have to worry 
about AIDS and such. I would be glad to show you around 
L'Ecole when the shop closes. Perhaps you might enjoy 
being taught a little. Oui?"

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 68