Date: Mon, 23 May 2011 08:53:11 -0400
From: exprmntle <exprmntle@gmail.com>
Subject: Like Mother Like Daughter 3: Identities

This is a sequel to the other two titles in the Like Mother, Like Daughter
series: "It Was Late" and "Two Days" Fiona ("No, damn it," Frank said to
himself. "My name isn't Fiona, it's FRANK!") looked at himself in the
mirror.  The remains of makeup stained his skin.  He was still wearing the
pink corset that they had strapped onto him after they had thrown him into
the shower.  He looked ruffled and messy, as though he had been forced to
jump out of the shower before he was done.

Except, of course, he hadn't jumped out of the shower.  He had been
released from his make-up table restraints after he had been sodomized for
almost an hour, first by that rich bitch, Charlotte and her strap-on dick
and then Charlotte's shemale whore, Patricia.  Patricia had put on a
cock-ring and rode Frank's ass, despite his pleading, while Yvette, the spa
girl, had gone back to licking Charlotte's pampered cunt.  The other spa
girls had stood around, smiling and whispering to each other, laughing at
Frank's predicament.

Then, they had used wipes to remove the make-up and then they had put him
into one of the showers and turned the nozzles on him, scouring his body
clean with hot water.  Somewhere in there, that slut, Yvette, had inserted
another phallus in his ass, which turned out to be an enema.  After he had
voided the enema, he had been provided with a butt-plug, with no
explanation.  He knew what to do with it. he slipped it in, blushing in
shame.  Then, after the girls had toweled him dry, they had put this pink
satin corset on him, and padlocked it closed.  Yeah, those bitches had
really enjoyed his predicament.

Frank kind of deserved it.  He had been a high-priced (the other girls said
over-priced) addition to the spa staff.  Mistress Anais, the owner of the
spa, had acquired his contract from his previous employer at no small cost.
Frank had been the highest-paid masseur at that spa, and many of Mistress
Anais' clients had raved about his performance, both as a masseur and as a
extracurricular boy-toy.  Although male employees were not supposed to have
sex with patrons, Frank's dalliances were regarded as good for business.
He was attractive enough, he had a nice, long and thick penis, lots of
stamina, and was completely discrete.  His status as a male whore had
attracted many women to Frank's old spa and, of course, had enriched Frank
into the bargain.

Mistress Anais had hired him as an income supplement, like some of her
other spa girls.  There was Yvette, the oral/raunch fetishist (very popular
with decadent heiresses like Charlotte.  There were transsexuals like
Patricia (well, Patricia was a transsexual now, but might not have been
without a nudge from Charlotte).  And there were many others - spa
personnel with many talents beyond simply manicures, pedicures, hair
styles, and massages.  All were available on the special menu that was
brought only to the most special clients.

Frank looked down at the padlock completing his satin restraint, and
realized that he would have to ask someone to remove it for him.  But he
was tired and humiliated.  He wanted to go home.  As he dressed to leave,
he thought about all the steps that had gotten him here.

In college, he had been a mediocre student.  Smart enough, but with no
drive whatsoever, content to use his family connections to get into the
best fraternity, the posh parties, the elite gatherings.  True, his
family's money was not what it used to be, but he was related, by blood or
marriage, to almost every family in the city's old money.  They all knew
him.  His liberal arts and dance education, his world travel, and his
genial, if slightly arrogant, personality made him a pleasant addition at
any event.  Frank had thought that he would exploit this, getting a job as
a dance instructor, a translator (French, Italian), a companion, and then
as a masseur.  His old friends regarded him as a loveable slacker, an
underachiever who used his talents to coast on the flow of life.

At some point, he had become a gigolo.  He received little presents from
the women he had served as a dancer, a companion, and as a masseur.  After
a while, he had begun to think of those acts of generosity as his due.
Occasionally, his work as a professional companion/masseur led to him
serving or servicing the women but it was unclear when that went from being
a delightful perk of the job to being part of the job.  He had vague
long-term ambitions to become a walker, one of the stylish men that
accompanied wealthy, lonely women to elite gatherings.

But none of that mattered.  He needed to get out of this corset, needed to
get home so he could sit on the toilet and remove the fat plug from his
ass, he needed to figure out what to do next.

When he slipped into the unisex locker-room, he desperately tried to avoid
eye-contact with the other spa-workers.  They smirked and whispered when
they saw the outline of his pink corset under his spa t-shirt.  At his
locker, he discovered a surprise - a thick off-white envelope with his name
on the outside and the spa's gilt logo in the upper left corner.  Inside,
there was a note, wrapped around a thick bundle of $100 bills - fifty of
them, in fact.  The note said:

"Frank/Fiona - Charlotte was very, very pleased with the service you
provided her this afternoon.  I've been instructed, by Charlotte, to raise
your salary and to pass on this small token of her gratitude.  Take the
rest of the day and the weekend off.  Make sure you're here on Monday.  We
have other clients, aside from Charlotte, who may be equally grateful.

"Sincerely, Mistress Anais."

Frank was enraged. but also touched by this, the largest gratuity for
services rendered he had ever received.  He was confused.  What services
would he be required to provide?  To whom?  The clientele of the spa
included men and women.  The corset, the enema and the plug in his ass
reminded him of the depths of degradation that might still await him.
Unconsciously, his cock began to stir.  And he knew from the stories the
less discrete workers had told him, that things could get still deeper.
Now he was nearly erect.  Ashamed again, he slipped into his sporty sedan
and drove home.

Everett sat on the couch, stunned, still, by his recent encounter with
Gene, now Jeannie, his high-school friend, now transformed into a stunning,
feminine creature.  His cock stiffened at the thought of Jeannie's sexy
ass, her pierced nipples, her cocksucker lips.  he began to stroke his dick
at the thought and, moments later, coated his lean belly with his cum,
which he gathered into his palm and absently rubbed into his cock and balls
- his customary post-orgasm activity.  It made his cock feel both slippery
and sticky and he could usually coax another orgasm from his balls by
paying this extra attention.

Jeannie was so hot, such a wonderful companion, such a tempting little
treat.  And let's face it, Everett didn't have a whole lot of sex options
these days.  He wasn't especially outgoing and his interests were a little
weird: science fiction, computers, engineering projects.  You couldn't talk
about Asimov with most girls.  But he had stayed up late into the night
talking about that stuff with Gene, before his transformation.  Until he
had found Gene/Jeannie online, he had made only superficial acquaintances.
Not surprisingly, Jeannie shared a lot of his interests (they had, after
all been very good friends in high school, before Gene had disappeared) and
was stunningly beautiful in just the way he preferred - pierced, tattooed,
pale, slender, and a little trampy.  All he had to do was pick up his cell
and call her and she would come back. wouldn't she?

The cummy lube was having its effect.  He was hard again, but he could tell
it would take a while.  He needed some help.  He turned on his computer and
loaded his favorite playlist into the media player.  An array of porn clips
he had got from the internet began to stream on the gigantic television he
used as a monitor.  Lesbians, foot fetish, femdom, shemales, scat, even
some twink boys fucking and sucking.  He watched for half an hour, but
still could not achieve another orgasm.

He unlocked and opened the drawer of the end-table and pulled out his
vibrating butt-plug - a seven inch pink toy.  He didn't know why, but he
loved to have it in his ass when he was watching porn.  He knew it was a
little gay. but he didn't care.  He lubed it in his mouth while he rubbed
his sticky dick, then tilted his pelvis up so he could get at his shitter.
He teased his anus for a minute, listening to the moans of the sexy porn
stars on his monitor.

Then he shoved it in and enjoyed the feeling of being filled.  Then he
tilted his pelvis to hold it in, and bore down, trying to push it out.  As
the shemales on screen reached another climax, he pulled it out and licked
his shit from the plug, then pushed it back into his dirty ass as the
college girls on screen shit for the camera.  As the boys appeared on
screen, he turned the vibrator to high, and rubbed out another load of cum.

After, in the shower, he thought about Jeannie some more.  Why did Gene
reenter his life this way?  He was so confused.  He wanted Jeannie/Gene.
He was afraid of what that meant, however.  Was he gay?  Was he perverted?

Ted turned away from the monitor.  He had just finished watching Everett
beating off.  During her visit, Jeannie had left behind a small webcam that
used a tiny cellular modem to broadcast.  It would last for a day or two.
Between his legs, Jeannie's head bobbed up and down on his prick.  One of
her long, thin fingers snaked into his ass, and curled around to apply
pressure to his prostate.

"Jeannie," Ted began.

"Mmmm," she responded, though her mouth was full.

"Did you know that he was. into kink?"

"Mmmhmmm," she affirmed, then lifted her mouth from Ted's penis, taking it
in her free hand while she responded.  As she pulled her head back, a thin
rope of saliva and pre-cum stretched between her plump lips and the purple
head of Ted's penis.  "I guessed.  He's not what you would call an
all-American boy.  He told me all kinds of things when we chatted online.
And before, when I was Gene, he and I almost had sex once.  We beat each
other off a little.  I tried to lick his asshole, too, but he got scared.
That was back when I was confused.  Oooh. Teddy, you like this story, don't
you?"

"Yes, darling," said Ted.  "I want to talk about the time-table."

"Oh, OK," she said, spitting on his cockhead to lube her pumping fingers.
"I'm going to make him cum a few more times.  After all our anonymous chats
on line, Teddy, I know what he likes.  He's a perv.  He is into all kinds
of kink."

"Mmm. that's nice," Ted said, as Jeannie's fingers did their work.  "Do you
think he's pretty?  Like you?  Does he have potential?"

"Pretty," Jeannie considered, licking his piss slit while she thought.
"No.  I'm sorry, Teddy.  He's sort of geeky looking.  I like his cock,
though."

"Yes," Ted agreed.  "I'd like to make use of that."  Ted's breathing began
to quicken.  Jeannie unconsciously slowed her manipulation of Ted's cock.
She had been trained well by Charlotte.

"But," Ted continued when he had relaxed a little. "Could he be surgically
modified?"

"No, Teddy, I don't think so.  He's too tall and his jaw is too manly."

Ted shifted in his chair and reached between his legs to push Jeannie's
finger farther into his asshole.

"That's too bad.  We'll just have to make the best of the situation.
Continue seducing him.  See if you can't encourage his more.  oh, that's
nice.  his more.  Oh, Jeannie.  encourage his more disgusting urges."
Ted's legs tensed and he blew his load.

Jeannie's expert mouth caught every drop of her stepfather's cum.

To be continued.

Please send comments to exprmntle@gmail.com