Sunday, April 21, 2013

Another Time Another Place Pt 2/3 SeXStoRY

By this stage we had arrived at a large ornate door, albeit, slightly grubby. She opened the door and motioned for me to enter which I did. It was in fact a very pleasant bedroom, containing a large and king sized bed with matching wardrobes, several period chairs, a chaise lounge and a large dressing table. Off to one side I could see a nicely tiled en-suite bathroom. The room smelt exotic and as I entered my feet sunk into a gorgeous thick pile carpet. She smiled at me again touching my hair as she ushered me further into the room. “Come plese” She motioned me into the bathroom which was luxurious by any standards and indicated that I was to remove my clothes. I looked askance at her and she responded by pulling my ‘T’ shirt off over my head and then unbuttoning my jeans. “Come plese don’t be shy – I am ‘ere to ‘elp you.” I let her pull my jeans down and eased my trainers off as she lowered them to my ankles. She went over to the bath and started to top up some water that had already been run into the bath. There were lots of foamy suds and the water smelt of perfume and spices. I stood there in my boxer shorts feeling totally out of place. I couldn’t help but notice her beautiful arse as she bent over to swirl the water and, just for a moment, I glimpsed her stocking tops and, as I did so, my dick gave an involuntary flick of excitement. She turned round and her hands went down to my underpants. “Oooh! I see we are getting a leetle excited honey!” I reddened and tried to laugh it off but she just giggled, in a lovely girly way, and pulled my shorts down. My excuse for manhood gave another summersault as her hand brushed across the skin of my penis. She motioned me into the bath into which I stepped gingerly. I lay down and she produced a sponge with which she massaged my body all over. She obviously is a stickler for cleanliness, I thought, but when she started to wash my hair I began to think it was some kind of joke that was being played on me. However, the attention of this lovely girl was not to be sneezed at and so I thought I’ll just go along with this and enjoy what physical contact I can get. I decided to enquire a little bit about what was going on so I tried to engage her in conversation. Her English was poor but I managed to ascertain her name, which was Renata, and that she had been told too ‘look after me!’ When indicated to do so, I climbed out of the bath into a large, pink and fluffy towel which Renata held out for me. She led me back into the bedroom and at her indication I sat in a chair near the bed. She started doing something to my hair which involved winding it into little bunches with elastic bands. “What are you doing to me?” I demanded in as f***eful voice as I could muster (sitting in a tarts bedroom wrapped in a pink towel!). She giggled again and said, “It O.K. you wil like what we do.” Slightly mollified, I let her continue. Having completed work on my hair she then produced a large tub of dark muddy cream. This she smeared all over my face in a very thick layer. It stung slightly and was very warm. Renata looked at her watch and then went over to the dressing table and rummaged about amongst the bottles and boxes which covered the surface. She came back with some bottles, scissors and a nail file and began to give me a pedicure. This was relaxing and I thoroughly enjoyed the experience of this teenage girl resting my foot on her stockinged legs while she administered lotions and filed and cut my toenails. She looked at her handiwork and said, “It O.K. yeh?” “Yeh!” I replied with some enthusiasm. What she did next, however, threw me. She proceeded to paint my toenails with a thick gorgeous red nail varnish making them look very feminine. Warning bells now really started to clang and I made to get up from the chair. “Noo don’t be silly ‘oney I make you into nice girl – you like being girl don’t you?” She said it so seductively that I just sat back in shock. “You know?” I exclaimed without thinking. “Of course that is why you are ‘ere!” Again without thinking I said, “But isn’t this a brothel and you a….” She smiled a weary smile and looked me in the eyes, “Yes I am tart as you English say and, yes this is a brothel, but I do more than ‘ave sex with men. Someone wants you to be dressed as a girl - I do it! It is all money.” I thought on this statement for a moment. “So you have been paid to make me look like a girl?” “Si, I told that you like to be dressed as girl – you have face and body more like girl than man.” I sat back again, my mind in turmoil. Had my dad paid for this to teach me a lesson? Was Richard giving me some shock type therapy? “Can I go please?” I did not really want to go because actually I was beginning to enjoy the ministrations of this really sweet girl, tart or not. “I would not, ow you say, reco- recom...” “Recommend it?” I said coming to her aid. “No I ave been paid. I must complete my task otherwise I could get in trouble with people ‘ere.” She said it in a way that made me think she was scared of the consequences. I felt I did not have much option but to let her do what she needed to do. “O.K. but what exactly are you going to do to me.” She looked at me with big round eyes and said, “To make you look like a girl!” I sighed and said, “Right let’s get on with it.” The sigh was slightly theatrical, in that, actually I was getting rather excited at the prospect of putting on some female clothes. CHARLOTTE IS BORN Renata motioned for me to go into the bathroom where she washed off the face mask. This had made my adolescent, spotty skin, much smoother and more girl like. Back in the bedroom I lay face down while Renata massaged my back and then made sure there were no manly hairs on my body by running a ‘ladyshave’ all over my legs and body. I did not have much in the way of hair anyway but this ensured that, apart from a small triangle in the vicinity of my penis, I was billiard ball smooth. She also applied temporary tattoos to my back and on one ankle. At her bidding I lay on my back and she went over to the wardrobe and brought back a red leather box. She opened it and took out an aerosol can which she sprayed my chest with. Then she produced a false breast, complete with large nipples which she laid on my chest. These breasts, I now know, are made of a special medical grade silicone and are extremely realistic. She made some marks with an eyeliner pencil and then did the same with another breast on the other side. She then painted some sticky substance on both my chest, using the marks as a guide, and then onto the two false breasts. After timing a couple of minutes she placed the ‘breast forms’ on to my chest, rubbing the edges down and smoothing them into my skin. Almost at once they ceased to be cold as the heat from my body warmed them. After another couple of minutes she asked me to stand up. When I did the breasts bounced and moved with pert nipples just like I had seen hers do earlier. “Yours are not…?” She laughed and pulled down the front of her dress to reveal a lovely, real pair of tits that bounced and jiggled as she continued to laugh. “No I am real girl but I make you look as good!!” At her instruction I put on a very nice lace robe which shimmered and slithered around my body as I moved. I sat in the chair and she looked at my face. “O.K! I make you up.” She covered my face with foundation, applied using a sponge. Then a pair of long false eyelashes on my top eyelids and a shorter length pair on my lower lids. Eye shadow followed, which was of a dark and smudgy colour similar to her own. She worked away at my eyes for some time and then used eyeliner along the edges and for my eyebrows. It was frustrating because my back was to the mirror and I could not see how effective her ministrations were. I gained the impression that this was, on her part, deliberate since she had tilted the dressing table mirror upwards so that even if I managed a peek it would do no good. She continued on my face by outlining my lips and filling them with a glossy red lipstick which tasted divine. Finally, blusher and powder were dusted onto my face followed by a generous spray of the perfume I had smelt when I first entered the room. Next she went to the wardrobe behind me and spent some time choosing something. The something turned out to be a black wig which she brushed and made some adjustments to before sliding it on to my head. Renata then pulled some of my own hair through the base of the wig, hence the winding of my hair earlier, and fastened it with some clips. The last action was to spray some black hair dye over my light brown hair that she had pulled through. “Don’t worry it wash easily.” She had obviously read my thoughts as I wondered how I would explain my black streaked hair later. Renata went to a jewellery box and produced a ring which she slid over the second toe on my right foot. Next she went over to a large chest of drawers and extracted some items of underwear. “O.K. plese to stand up.” As I did so she slid the robe off me and held up a black satin and lace waist clincher. It had gorgeous little red bows at the top of the suspenders. She opened it up held it around my waist clipping the fastenings in place. She moved behind me and adjusted the laces, tightening and pulling my waist in. “Ow!” I exclaimed as she pulled rather too tightly. “You will, ow you say, have to get used to this if you want to look nice girly.” She giggled as she said it. After a number of adjustments to my waist clincher she was content and then passed me over a pair of black, seamed and fully fashioned stockings. My penis gave a flip of delight at the thought of wearing these on my smooth and sensuous legs. I put them on, carefully, and Renata helped to make sure the seams were straight before I clipped on the suspenders. I looked down and could see a gorgeous pair of silk encased legs with red toe nails showing through the reinf***ed toe area of the foot. All this made my cock stiffen and it started to protrude some what. It became harder and harder as Renata produced a delicate lace thong. She looked at my penis, giggled, and said, “Well we not ‘ave that sticking out. I do something!” She proceeded to lift her dress to her waist and pull her own thong off over her stockinged legs. I saw a girl’s fanny for the first time and was amazed. I had always thought it was just a hole but the sight of the gorgeous, intricate piece of anatomy made my cock bulge even more. “Ah! First time you see cunt hole, yes?” “Yes!” I replied weekly. “Come! I not supposed to but ‘ere,” She grabbed my erect dick and masturbated me with her beautiful manicured hand. It did not take long before a jet of my sperm erupted; it flew and landed on her stocking thigh. She reached around for a tissue and wiped it off. Then she got another tissue and just dabbed the end of my dick where a small amount was oozing from the end. “I think we need something my ‘oney to deal with your little prick!” – So it was a little one! She produced a small leather tube affair which had a black cord laced around an opening. She slid the tube over my deflated penis and laced it up leaving it encased in the tube with the end of the laces hanging down. Renata went around behind me a pulled my flaccid prick under and between my legs fastening the laces into holes in the Basque. “Now, ‘oney lets finish dressing you.” She reached down for her own thong which was lying on the floor and, to my amazement, sniffed the area around where her fanny would have been. “Ah! That smell like girl you should be.” With that she proffered them to me and motioned me to put them on. She slid them up over my legs and pulled them around my, now retained, penis. As they slid around my waist I caught the smell of a tart’s cunt. They felt slightly moist but the feeling was incredible. “O.K. we find nice dress for you!” Renata went to the wardrobe and found a short black, tight dress with asymmetric shoulders. One arm bare the other sleeved. I slid into this and Renata zipped me up planting a small kiss on my bare shoulder and tattoo as she did so. It came mid thigh showing a long length of smooth leg down to my petite feet. Next she festooned me with jewellery; a beautiful gold necklace, gold arm band on my upper bare arm, watch and a number of rings. “Eeet is shame I no can pierce your ears they not ‘eal quickly but I do have some big ‘ooped earrings which you can still wear.” She produced some large gold earring hoops which she adjusted slightly and fitted to my ears as though they had been pierced. She undid the fine silver chain from around her ankle and fastened it around mine – “There my ‘oney – a leetle present from me to make you a proper (she said an Italian word that I did not recognise)” “Now sit and I put some false nails on you!” This Renata proceeded to do. They were pre-varnished to the same colour as my toe nails, long and sexy. She looked at her watch and sighed. I suppose it would have been about six o’clock by this time and I suspected that she had another client at some time and needed to move me on. “Now ‘ave you walked in eels before?” “Yes but not high ones like yours” I responded sadly. “O.K. but you need to wear ‘eels if you like to be girl – let me see!” She rummaged around and produced a pair of black strappy shoes. They had a 1 ½ inch platform and a 6 inch slightly flared heels; the whole ensemble having a strap which passed behind the heel and ankle then fastened at the side with a small buckle. “I can’t walk I those!” I squealed. “Oooh you know you want to – they are only 4 ½ inch heels really and you ‘ave to learn!” She smiled sweetly as she said it. I climbed onto the shoes and instantaneously felt sexy and tarty. “Bella! Bella bambino! – look, look!!” Renata swung the wardrobe door open to reveal a full length mirror. For a moment I thought she was the girl in the mirror but no, the sexy Italian looking teenager that stared back was ME! The transformation was complete, long black hair, the sexy red lips, the dark and sensuous smudgy black eyes, the pert breasts with nipples showing under the dress, the long sexy legs encased in fine black stockings and the ‘fuck me’ high heels with my toes red painted and ringed. “Now I teach you to walk in ‘eels.” She made me walk up and down her room. “No! eel first honey then the rest of your foot!” I tried again. “Better! But keep your legs together, put one foot in front of the ozzer and sway with your ‘ips a leetle!” She was a good teacher and I was soon walking with a nice hip roll and a smooth motion with my legs. “Bella! Bella, now ‘ere take this ‘andbag and put it over your shoulder and walk with it.” I tried the handbag and it felt very natural to walk in the way Renata had showed me. I loved looking at myself in the mirror and kept saying, “incredible, incredible!” “Come ‘oney there is a better mirror in the room across!” Without thinking I stepped out of her room and as she came out with me she shut and locked her door. “Why did you lock the door?” “’eet is our rules we must not liff the doors open!” We walked across the corridor and into a big room which was laid out like a cinema or theatre with chairs around a small stage towards the far end. On one wall a large ornate mirror ran from floor to ceiling. We both stood in front of it and I compared my self to Renata. She was certainly slimmer and with curves in all the right places but I looked all girl and could easily pass for her younger s****r. She then put me through a number of exercises to make me sit, stand and negotiate various difficulties. She showed me how when sitting to keep my knees together and elegantly cross my legs, when crossed to keep the ankles to the side and together. Another exercise showed me how to get into and out of a car. Siting first and then as before keeping the knees and ankles together swinging the legs into the car. Then on getting out to do the reverse. I suddenly realised I needed to pee. “Ah yes oh kay honey!” she said when I mentioned it. “I take you and show you what to do!” We went across the hall into a toilet and she gave me some tips on lowering your knickers and wiping the end of your penis before standing back up. She suggested that I call myself Charlotte – I knew an Angela at school who was a bit of tart so it seemed appropriate. She also gave me some advice on talking – “Do not try to talk in a ‘igh voice ‘oney that do not sound OK – just pitch your own voice oop a litlle!” I tried and after a few attempts I got a comfortable pitch which she thought sounded natural. We practised a few standard phrases like, ‘hello’, ‘no thank you’, ‘yes please’ etc in both English and Italian. The lessons went on for some time and soon I was feeling that I could pass for a girl in practically any circumstances. “Suddenly she grabbed my arm and exclaimed, We ‘ave to go my bambino!” “Where?” I asked fearfully. “Ooh! Just to show I ‘ave done what I am paid for.” I looked across at her room – “Can’t I go back in there? I think I knew the answer. “Come I show ‘ow you walk downstairs in ‘eels! She said as she ushered me down the corridor. With great reluctance I followed Renata back down the way we had come in several hours before. My head was reeling; here I was dressed as a tart in an Italian brothel- my clothes locked in Renata’s room. It was simply unbelievable! I negotiated the stairs quite well and she led me back into the lounge that I had originally been in. I was shocked to find that there were a number of ‘clients’ in the waiting room; all of whom swung around to look at Renata and me as we entered. The look of appreciation was not just reserved for Ranata, I could feel eyes running up and down my legs - it was a strange feeling. My heart was beating because I really had no idea what was going to happen to me next; when in through the door marched Richard. He spoke in whispered tones to Renata and I heard her giggle and my new name Charlotte mentioned. “Ah! Charlotte! Good, – let’s go!” I started to mumble something but Richard had me by the arm and was moving me towards the front door. Just wait till I tell Sue what you’ve done to me, I thought she’s going to kill you.

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