Date: Fri, 16 Jul 2004 11:19:24 -0800
From: Eugene Webber
Subject: Guy and Ellen Part 7

Postcards from THE ESTATE

Guy and Ellen

Part VII

Ellen woke feeling her arms and legs being moved. As she opened her eyes,
she remembered that she had fallen asleep in Guy's arms, their legs
intertwined. Suddenly she felt a dull throbbing in her ass, a reminder of
her new status. Sissy. Guy's sissy. He'd fucked her twice last night, the
second time with her wrapping her legs around him and throwing her hips
up to meet his thrusts just like a woman, her heels digging into his ass,
spurring him on.

Guy disentangled himself from Ellen, looking at her as he stood. She had
been better than he thought she'd be. Good kisser. Great skin. Quickly
learned to fuck like a woman. Initiated the second fuck. Fell as leep in
his arms. As he looked down at her sprawled across the bed he regretted
THE ESTATE's rule against unprotected sex. He would like to teach her to
suck his cock, to feel her tongue laving his cockhead without the latex
barrier. Yes, THE ESTATE had procured an especially sensitive condom
especially for cocksucking, but there's nothing like the real thing. For
that matter he would like to feel himself rubbing against her when he
fucked her, to actually shoot inside her, not just inside a rubber inside
her. But the rule was more than reasonable. After nearly a
quarter-century of fucking sissies, he was HIV-negative, and had never
had an STD. And the number of partners he'd had who had died of AIDS was
greater than the number of sissies he'd womanized.

He looked down at himself, aware of the condom he was wearing. He peeled
it off, then took a tissue and wiped himself. Leaning down he took
Ellen's cock by the base and peeled her condom off. Gripping her cock
firmly , he kissed her, running his tongue inside her mouth.

"Let's clean up," he said, breaking the kiss.

Ellen swung her legs to the edge of the bed, finding it awkward to stand
with Guy continuing to hold her tightly. Partly pulling, partly leading,
he led the way into the spa. As the water filled the spa, Ellen removed
the wig for the first time. She was surprised that it had stayed on
throughout their lovemaking. She removing the cap covering her own hair,
running her fingers through it. She looked at herself in the mirror and
was shocked at what she saw. Nathaniel, in worn make-up, false tits
pointing at his reflection, a body shorn of hair, like a woman's. I am a
sissy, she thought.

Guy came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to
him, his cock fitting into the crack of her ass. He took her cock in his
hands as he nuzzled her neck. Ellen just looked at their reflection in
the mirror. There could be no doubt about them now. What sh e saw was her
sissy self being made love to by the man who had just deflowered her. And
she knew she would let him fuck her again and again and again.

Guy kissed her ears, looking at their reflection. He saw something
different. He'd been here at least a dozen times, the moment when his
lover realizes she will forever be a sissy. Last night was passion, the
abandonment of social restrictions, the fulfillment of a role. Last night
she was Ellen Sharpe, Guy's woman. This morning she is Nathaniel
Spotswood, sissy. There was only one thing to do: fuck the sissy.

Guy released her, leading her to the spa. He helped her into the spa,
then kissed her, their cocks pressing together. Nathaniel was Ellen
again, throwing her arms around him as she returned the kiss. He turned
off the water when it was about mid-thigh. Releasing her, he turned her
around, guiding her to her knees.

"Rest on the cushions," he instructed.

She leaned on the leatherette cushion s on the edge of the spa, knowing
what was coming. Guy took a condom from the boxes along the edge of the
spa and put it on. Ellen felt his hands on her ass, then his fingers
opening her, followed by his cock at her asshole, then sliding inside
her. When his hairy balls met her smooth ones, she wondered why she had
not felt them when he fucked her last night. She felt on hand move from
the cheeks of her ass while the other reached around her and gripped her
cock beneath the water. She lowered her head to her forearms and let him
take her.

Guy moved between her legs, spreading them as he entered her. Once he had
a firm grip at her waist and on her cock, he began pumping in and out,
stroking her in rhythm to their fucking. When she rested her head on her
forearms, he knew she had accepted her new status. He pressed deep inside
her and stayed there, stroking her until she came. He bent and kissed the
nape of her neck, trailing the kisses down her spine as she jerked in his
hand. He began pumping into her again as she went soft, cumming several
minutes after she had. He rested on her back, enjoying the smoothness of
her body against his. He continued to kiss her neck, ears, shoulders as
he slid his arms underneath her and alongside hers.

Ellen said nothing, letting him have his way. She was his, and her body
belonged to him. Not that she would have had it any other way. She
enjoyed the feel of his lips and tongue on her, his body against hers,
his cock inside her, the way his balls kissed hers as he pumped her. She
liked the way he jacked her off, holding her as she spurted into the
water. She liked the feel of his shaft pistoning in her ass, and wondered
how it would feel without the rubber. And as he became soft inside her,
she was content knowing she had satisfied him.

Guy was very satisfied. He pulled out, pulling Ellen back with him to a
sitting position, the water up to their waists. Ellen looked down at her
false brea sts, wondering if they would come off in the water. Taking a
chance, she lay down so that only her face was above the water. Well, her
face and the tips of her breasts. She was tempted to play with herself,
but refrained because of Guy. She just lay there, enjoying the scented
water, remembering all that Brenda had said. Guy had been a wonderful
introduction into womanhood. Being kissed and held like a woman. No being
called bitch or slut or other degrading names. Even the word "sissy" was
not pejorative when Guy said it. No pain at loosing her virginity, She
had been made love to, not just fucked.

Guy removed the condom, tossing it towards the trash. It didn't quite
reach it. He lay down next to Ellen, keeping only his head out of the
water. He turned on the whirlpool and the two just lay there, letting the
water swirl over them.

                     &nbs p;
***

"Have you ever thought about returning to Bernard?"

The question caught Brenda by surprise. She had just put on her ESTATE
panty girdle and was fastening her stockings to the garters when Jennifer
asked the question.

"Why?"

Jennifer sat up in the bed, pushing herself against the headboard. "You
fuck real good. Pussy I mean. ... well, ass too. I mean ... well you've
been Bernard longer than you've been Brenda. You must've gotten your
share of pussy. Or at least some pussy. ... haven't you wanted to get
some pussy again?"

"I thought I just did."

"Thanks," Jennifer smiled, scroutching down into the mattresses. "I mean
real pussy."

"I thought you were real p ussy. You're turning into a real bitch."
Brenda buttoned her shirt. She was glad she had brought an overnight bag
with her uniform. It gave her about an hour to be with Jennifer, even if
that hour was with Jennifer the bitch. Well, maybe just the last few
minutes.

Jennifer smiled more broadly. "Thanks, again. To most people I'm a man
who's had himself fixed. Big time. But to you, I'm a woman."

Brenda looked at her and wondered how anyone could see a man. Naked on
the bed, her perky breasts pointing to the ceiling, her cunt pouting
outward, the auburn hair neatly trimmed in a bikini cut, the smoothness
of her skin, the shapeliness of her thighs and legs, to the red painted
toes. Only her feet, man-sized 11s, belied her appearance. The feet and
the hands. The surgeons should show her off daily, especially that cunt.
It was better looking than most women Bernard had been with. And Jennifer
was a better fuck.

Brenda stepped into her skirt, pulling it up a nd tucking the shirt into
it. She didn't know whether she should be Brenda the counselor, Brenda
the lover, or Brenda-I-gotta-job-to-go-to. She sat on the bed to put on
her shoes. Three-inch pumps on the Fourth of July weekend. What a job.

Jennifer scooted forward, placed her arms around Brenda's shoulders,
kissing her ear. "It's just that you fuck pussy so good, I wondered if
you wondered about going back."

"Why would I want to do that, Jen? I can still fuck pussy, without
changing back."

"Have you done that a lot?"

Brenda stood to put on her tie. As she tied a Windsor knot, but didn't
pull it taut, Jennifer reclined on the bed again, legs spread, pointing
her pussy at Brenda. A real cunt she is, thought Brenda. "You need to put
a tampon in." Brenda advised.

Jennifer frowned. Brenda picked up her briefcase and shoulder bag,
starting for the bedroom door.

"Brenda," Jennifer nearly shouted. Brenda stopped and turned to her. "You
'll be free after seeing them, won't you?"

Jennifer was referring to Brenda's current duty, to contact Guy and Ellen
and make sure there were no problems from last night. If everything went
well, then Brenda would not have to contact either of them until tomorrow
morning. The rest of the day was hers. She did not immediately answer
Jennifer.

Jennifer didn't wait for an answer. "Please come back afterwards, Bren.
Please!"

Brenda looked at the tear-filled sorrowful face across the room,
remembering the time she wanted someone about to walk out a door not to
leave, or if they had to, to come back later. And she wanted to come back
to Jennifer.

"We'll see, Jen," was all she said. Turning, she left.

                                                               ***

Brenda picked up the phone reluctantly. This was the part of her job she
always dreaded. Most times, the dread was unnecessary. Guy was a good
lover. Brenda and Jennifer could both attest to that. But not all
crossdressers moved easily into being sissies. Until that first
penetration, neither THE ESTATE, Guy, Brenda, anyone knew how Ellen would
react. When it goes good, it goes great. But when it went badly, it was a
disaster. She dialed Ellen's room.

Guy had sat Ellen on the cushions on the edge of the spa, placed one of
the cocksucking condoms on her and was expertly mouthing her cock when
the phone rang. Who could be calling me at this moment, Ellen thought.
Guy knew, so he stopped sucking and got out of the spa. Ellen wanted to
shout 'Don't stop.' She was just getting into having her shaved skin
tickled by the hairs on Guy. Sh e liked the way the hair felt on the back
of her calves and thighs as she draped her legs over his shoulders. She
appreciated the way Guy tongued her balls and thighs, and perineum. She
wished her tits were real so he could nurse at them. And just as she was
learning how to enjoy a blowjob, he quits!

"Hello, Brenda," he said into the phone.

"Good morning, Mr. Hughes," she replied. "Is everything satisfactory?"

"Very satisfactory, Brenda."

"I'm glad to hear that, Mr. Hughes," she continued, relieved. "If I
remember correctly, a picnic is in order."

Guy smiled. For a really attractive sissy, one who looked good in dresses
that revealed shoulders and backs and had good legs, Guy liked to take
them picnicking on the Sunday following a defloration. Both Brenda and
Jennifer had been treated to a picnic. There was a special spot,
overlooking the lake, secluded yet open. It was at these picnics that Guy
permitted--no, instructed--his new woman how to suck cock. Yes, Ellen
would take a cock in her mouth for the first time this day--his cock.

"Yes, Brenda, a picnic is in order."

"I can order the picnic now, if you like?"

"Please do."

"Should my maids attend to Ms. Sharpe?"

"Yes, have them come up."

"Will five minutes be okay?"

"Five minutes will be fine."

As he put down the phone, Guy saw Ellen looking at him. She had gotten
out of the spa and had a towel wrapped around herself. "That was Brenda,"
he said. She just looked at him with that
I-heard-you-say-her-name-so-I-know-who-it-was look. "She's arranging a
picnic. ... She'll be up in five minutes. ... With the maids."

All this Ellen had already figured out. What she didn't understand was
why. She thought she and Guy would spend the rest of the day having sex.
And her cock was still hard. In fact, it was tenting the towel, giving
her a most unladylike profile. Guy was just about to mention it when the
doorbell rang. Damn that Brenda! Why is she always so punctual?

Guy opened the door, standing aside as Brenda, Chantrelle and Adriane
blew past him. Ellen was leaning against the doorframe of the spa,
looking more than a little peeved. The three of them looked at her and
saw Nathaniel, sissified, with a tent where Ellen's pussy should be. All
three were very amused. Their smirks caused Ellen to look at herself,
then blush.

"Did we interrupt something, Mr. Hughes?" Brenda asked, her amusement not
the least bit masked. Guy looked toward Ellen, noticing the bulge. Now it
was his turn to crimson. "Would you like Chantrelle to take care of
that?" Chantrelle's smirk became smirkier, if possible.

"No, I'll handle it," Guy said, crossing over to Ellen.

"I'm quite sure you will, Mr. Hughes," Brenda said, causing the maids to
titter. Guy guided Ellen into the bedroom.

Ellen was not sure what was going on. Guy practically pushed her into the
bedroom, ripped the towel off her, pushed her onto the bed and
practically attacked her cock, without a condom. This blowjob was
industrial strength. Guy took the head in his mouth, applying very
powerful suction. He jacked her with one hand, running his thumb along
the underside of her penis. The tips of the fingers of his other hand he
inserted just inside her asshole, twisting them just inside. In less than
three minutes she came, flooding his mouth. She swooned, he swallowed.

He dressed as she recovered. "They should be finished in about an hour.
I'll pick you up then."

Guy stopped at the suite door before exiting, taking one last look at
Brenda. He'd not had an African-American sissy, or an African-Canadian
one, since his last time with her. He'd invited her to his ranch, only to
find out that his neighbors were racist as well as homophobic. She passed
muster as a woman, only to have his neighbors and friends question why he
wanted a Black woman aft er she left. He hadn't picked up on their
attitude, but she had. She knew she could never be what would be
acceptable to Albertan cattle society, so she said goodbye to Guy and
entered the service of THE ESTATE like a spurned woman entering a
convent. Guy never forgave himself, nor lost his lust for her.

Chantrelle and Adriane looked at each other knowingly as the door closed
behind Guy. Chantrelle's first day as a maid had been spent preparing
Brenda for her defloration by Guy. Adriane had helped Brenda relieve her
sexual frustrations during her early days at THE ESTATE. As members,
their relationship with Brenda was more like concerned aunts than
subordinates.

Brenda stared at the closed door momentarily, thinking about what could
have been, then turned and went into the bedroom. Seeing the towel on the
floor, Ellen laying on the bed, her wilted dick with its telltale traces
of saliva and cum, Brenda surmised what had happened. She hoped that Guy
didn't do this often. Just because this was Ellen's first time with a man
didn't mean she was HIV-negative or STD-free.

"Ready, Ms. Sharpe?" she asked, not aware of the edge in her voice.

Ellen was well aware of it. What had Guy said. He wasn't a one-woman man.
But Brenda had said she and Guy were history. Was history repeating
itself? Ellen pushed herself up, then stood, then strode across the room
and out the door. She crossed the living room into the spa, waiting for
the next step. The maids followed, subjecting her to a third depilation.
Her nails were buffed, and a new coat of polish applied to both her
fingers and her toes. After Chantrelle guided her back to the bedroom,
both maids began cleaning the suite.

Brenda looked at Ellen as she entered. "Ms. Sharpe," she began. Ellen
looked at her with defiance, believing she was about to be verbally
abused. "I know sometimes the heat of passion makes us forget basics. But
you must remember the times in which we live. We--you, me, the maids,
Guy--are gay. While no disease is limited to gays, we are more
susceptible to certain diseases than others. And for one of them we know
there is no cure, and that it kills. What you and Guy did a little while
ago probably is more dangerous for you than it is for him. Remember, you
are not his first, though he was yours. We are very careful about disease
at THE ESTATE, and so far Guy has passed all our tests. But tests are not
perfect. So, please, for your own sake, take advantage of the precautions
we make available."

Ellen felt foolish. She had mistaken Brenda's concern for jealousy.
Nathaniel never thought about HIV or AIDS, why should Ellen? Because
Ellen had entered a new world, where both HIV and AIDS were a reality,
much more so than in the world Nathaniel knew. She nodded her thanks.

"I'll let you do your own make-up," Brenda said. "Remember, you're going
on a picnic."

Ellen looked at Brenda, trying to read her fa ce. By now Ellen realized
nothing at THE ESTATE is as simple as it first seems. What was special
about this picnic? She tried for a fresh-faced country girl look, using
only a light lipstick and face powder. Finished, she turned to see what
Brenda had selected for her to wear.

Brenda had selected a pink-and-white floral print sundress empire-waisted
with spaghetti straps. Another dress to show off the false boobs. And her
legs. The dress ended at mid-thigh. Ellen looked around for the
underwear. Brenda handed her a pair of panties.

"Can't wear a bra with this, and hosiery is impractical at a picnic."
Brenda tried not to sound smug, flippant, or snide. Ellen felt the
comment was smug, flippant, and snide. She stepped into the dress,
letting Brenda zip up the back. "Get on the bed on all fours," Brenda
ordered.

Ellen looked at Brenda, then did as ordered. She felt the dress being
flipped up and her panties being pulled down. She then felt something
cold and greasy being pushed into her. The panties were then pulled up
and the dress down. A pat on the buttocks informed her that the procedure
was finished. When she turned around, Brenda was holding a much larger
tampon than had been used the previous day.
"I see you haven't been replacing the tampon afterwards." Brenda chided
her. Ellen was tempted to let her know she had not yet had an afterwards.
"You're no longer a virgin, Ms. Sharpe," Brenda started. "You'll need to
use a larger tampon from now on." She then picked up a jar of cream
identical to what had been used the previous day. Or so Ellen thought.

"This is a different cream than we used yesterday. In fact, it's the
exact opposite of what we used. That cream was meant to make it easy for
Mr. Hughes to enter you with as little pain to you as possible. Now that
you've been opened up, this cream is to close you as much as possible
with safety. You will never be as small as you were before," Brenda
paused, "a nd anyone who sees you naked from behind will know you've been
fucked there." Brenda let this last sink in.

'I'm a sissy, and anyone who sees me naked will know it,' Ellen thought.
No showers at a gym, or swimming or anything where he would have to be
naked with other men. Hell, Nathaniel never did those things anyway. And
since Ellen did not ever again intend to have body hair, explaining her
enlarged asshole would not be a problem.

Brenda produced a fresh wig cap and a new wig, this one straw blonde
reaching below Ellen's shoulders. When it was in place, Ellen looked at
herself in the mirror and saw Nathaniel's favorite wet dream. Brenda
produced a pair of wedge mules, a big straw hat and matching straw tote
bag completed Ellen's outfit. Looking inside the tote bag, Ellen saw a
box of the larger tampons, a jar of cream, and two packages of rubbers,
one for anal intercourse and one for oral sex. The doorbell rang just as
the two of them entered the living ro om. Brenda opened the door, letting
Guy in. He took a good look at Ellen, then rushed to her, taking her in
his arms as he kissed her again. Without a word he whisked her out the
door. Brenda would not have been surprised had he taken her right then
and there.