A story of desperation, submission, and redemption.
I attempted to rip-off the wrong people. I nearly paid the price with my life. I still paid with my inevitable emasculation.
Chapter I: The Castillo
My Mother-in-Law, Francesca Dominguez and her oldest, and only, unmarried daughter, Serena, would be coming for supper. My heels clicked on the parquet floor as I surveyed the table setting. I’d just finished my makeup. My maid, Celestine had coiffed my tresses into a very intricate, 1940’s, body waved styling I’d originally had done, by the very adorable Mister Roberto, at my favorite Sedona salon.
My very thick, heavily dyed, shiny, off-black hair, had been shaped into a tapered shingle style cut. Then it was given a V-part. Next, Celestine had given me a forward roll on top with fluffed bangs. Both sides were done upward, in a vertical half-wave followed by wispy curls. Lastly my shadow-waved nape hair was swirled up and flared.
I simply cherish the very close, intimate relationship, which I’ve developed over time, with my precious, personal lady’s maid, Celestine. It’s such a wonderful bonding experience to embrace, when we girlishly chat as she does my hair and nails, dresses me, gives me a bath or shaves my legs. There just isn’t anything that compares to it for a girl like me.
But nearly as special, is the connection I have with my favorite hairdresser, the very charming, Mister Roberto, at the “Ladies Who Lunch” salon and beauty spa, in Sedona. He’s just so sweet and effusive as he prances about me, seeing to it that my hair and makeup are just “so-so” prior to whisking me off, with me feeling as pretty and special as a princess.
For today’s dinner though, my knee-length hobble skirt and my fussy ruffled blouse were also just perfect. Celestine had picked those up at the dry cleaners this morning. I’d had a manicure and facial at the salon just today. My legs, encased in dark, seamed hose, looked sensational as I stood in four-inch pumps.
I checked with the Chef, in the kitchen as to the wine, roast, salad and vegetables. I went to my husband’s bedroom to see if he was dressed yet and to ask him about what liquor I should put out. Indeed, happily, I found he was dressed and on his cell-phone. He held up one hand as he completed the call.
“Emilio darling. Your mother and sister will be here in about thirty minutes. What liquor should we get from the vault in the cellar?” I asked.
“The white and red wines will be fine for them. After dinner, I have some Scotch for me and some sweet Brandy for you ladies. Then when they leave I have something right here for you, Mariana,” Emilio laughed as he grabbed his crotch, and then grabbed me.
“Emilio! My hair and my makeup, darling? I’ll have to have Celestine fix it. Please? Can’t you wait? I don’t have time to screw you or blow you right now, my love,” I begged.
“I know, Cara Mia. But, we will make time after the company leaves,” Emilio promised.
I was now Mariana Margarita Dominguez, the wife of the future “Don” of the Dominguez crime family. My father-in-law was Don Ricardo Dominguez. Emilio, my husband was the youngest of three sons. But as the most cunning and ruthless of the three, he had been hand-picked over the other two to inherit his father’s throne.
I minced into the dining room and saw the Limousine in the distance, thru the large, Bay window, with Mother Francesca and my sister-in-law Serena, most likely riding in the rear. When the limo arrived, The armed driver and two armed guards immediately alighted from the vehicle.
My husband, machine-pistol tucked into a holster underneath his sport-coat, strolled to our wrap-around porch to nod to the security men. One of them then opened the rear door of the limo and assisted Mother Francesca and Serena from the limo.
When they entered our Hacienda, I curtsied to my mother-in-law, saying, “I’m so honored you would come to our home to dine, Madre Francesca. I then bowed and kissed her extended hand.
My sister-in-law, my Duenna, and the oldest and only unmarried of four sisters, received the same curtsey and the effusive greeting, but only a kiss on the cheek. She had been the sister that had trained me, here at our Hacienda, to become the perfect wife to her brother.
“It’s so wonderful to see you, my Duenna Serena. Welcome to our humble abode. Would anyone care for some chilled peeled shellfish, with white wine for appetizers?” I asked, as always, in my now fluent Spanish tongue.
Since my initial emasculation, at a secluded Ranchero, in New Mexico, owned by the Dominguez family, I almost never have an occasion to speak English any longer. Besides food shopping, going to the hair salon, or buying new shoes or a coveted dress, the opportunity to speak the English language just never arises at all.
Since that day, over three years ago, when I first began the change from Martin Devereux to Mariana Dominguez, I’d been told I must become fluent in the Spanish tongue. If, indeed, I was ever to begin to please my future husband Emilio. His mother and three younger, now married sisters, insisted upon it.
After the appetizers were served, I went to the kitchen to sample the succulent beef roast, the potatoes, carrots, and salad. I just took the very, tiniest nibble of each. Everything tasted sensational. I then assisted everyone with being seated as the parlor maid and serving maid, Carlotta, assisted the chef with bringing the food and drink, to the table.
I stood behind my husband, my hands on his broad shoulders as our guests were served. Then I took my seat across the table from him. Before we ate, Madre Francesca gave the blessing which we all repeated along with her. By now, I know it by memory. I’m certain her seven children, aged twenty-eight to thirty-eight all know it from rote.
Madre Francesca, for a women of 60, who had borne seven children, including the last two as twins, looks much younger, and is so beautiful and elegant. Her off-black tresses, as thick and dark as mine, barely have even a streak of grey. My hair, as well as my thinned eye-brows, and the bush around my pubes, is of course, frequently dyed.
My lips have been dramatically fattened with collagen. I always wear deep, dark mascara. My burgundy tinted blusher, and vivid, shimmering, eye-shadows and lipsticks, are infused with dusky pigments. My feet are so well-trained in the wearing of tall heels, that the tendons in my legs and arches have been thoroughly re-shaped. So much so, that I find it difficult to wear any footwear without at least a two and a half inch heel.
I’ve been made to look as much as possible, like a slim-waisted, but full-hipped and bosomy, dark-brunette, stereotypical Latina. I’ve also been drilled and trained to be the most, picture-perfect, ladylike, subserviently devoted wife, that ever existed.
The Spanish I’ve been schooled in is proper Castilian. I have been educated in the speaking of it as any billionaire’s debutante daughter might be. My Duennas saw to it that my enunciation and elocution were painstakingly and classically impeccable, to the point of refinement.
And assuredly, the five, female members of the Dominguez clan are absolutely thrilled with the success they have achieved in my case. I’ve been so thoroughly brainwashed, that I will never, ever, again be seen, in a pair of slacks unless I am horseback riding with some of my sisters-in-law. Never again, will I ever wear a pair of shorts. I wear skirts and blouses or a dress, almost exclusively.
The skirts and dresses hug my shapely, corseted, figure as snugly as a pair of leather driving gloves. If I exercise I wear ballet slippers, tights and a leotard. Never athletic shoes. I need to be up on my toes as much as possible, for comfort’s sake.
My tresses are always faultlessly and glamorously, “Done,” without so much as a strand of hair out of place. My fingers and toes must be flawlessly manicured and pedicured and painted in the same dusty shade as my wet-look lipstick. In bed, I most certainly will wear a satiny nightgown or negligee in a shimmering pastel shade.
I never wear pajamas and obviously I feel horribly allergic to any material as disgusting as flannel. Any female, foolish enough to wear flannel in her boudoir, shouldn’t be at all surprised if her man has lost any and all interest in sexual matters.
And ladies, if you get into bed with your man, with curlers in your hair, or green clay on your face, he should divorce you, before it is much too late. This is why my husband and I share a marriage bed, but also have separate boudoirs.
On those evenings when Emilio desires sleep and privacy, not sex, I slip off to my own private boudoir, and my personal lady’s maid tends to the setting of my tresses and giving me a facial masque to sleep in. And if Emilio is away on “business” I bring a vibrator to bed and dream of his penis and call out his name when I climax.
After dinner, we retired to a den where Emilio enjoyed Chivas Regal and a Cuban cigar. We ladies sipped sweet brandy. And Madre Francesca concerned herself as always with her unmarried older daughter, Serena.
“My son. The guard you have at your front doorway. He is quite handsome, strong looking and young. Is he taken? If not, can you have him transferred to your Padre’s home? I think he might be a good match for your sister, Serena,” Madre Francesca said.
“Mother. I can make my own matches, please. There is nothing wrong with me being single, my Madre,” Serena explains.
“There isn’t? At thirty-eight years old? Your uterus is going to dry up and you’ll be unable to bear children soon. All of my other daughters have borne me grandchildren. As have two of my sons’ wives. Emilio and Mariana will soon adopt twins. A brother and sister. If you are not careful Serena you will soon be an old maid,” Madre Francesca warned.
“What do you think, my wise son?” Madre asked.
“I think I love this Scotch and cigar. I also think matters of children and matchmaking are best left to the females of the species,” my husband Emilio smiled.
“You are so much like your father,” Madre said with feigned disgust.
“Which is why I am the heir to his throne,” said Emilio.
After our guests had left, I did a stroll thru the dining room, kitchen and parlor, noting that everything was fastidiously spotless. Then, I quickly minced to my boudoir, to divest myself of everything I was currently wearing. I laid everything on the bed. Celestine would sort things out in the morning.
I put on a negligee that belted at the waist with a side-tie, and also knotted with a pussy-bow at the neckline. I slipped into a pair of tall Marabous. I left my hair and makeup as they were, except to freshen my lipstick and add some extra hold to my tresses with some spritz.
Yes. I know most women remove their makeup at bedtime. Well, I wait until such a time as my husband is finished with me sexually. Then, when he is fast asleep, I slip off to my boudoir to complete that task.
But why on earth would I ever spend hours at the salon, and then more time at my vanity to make myself more desirable to my man, and then ruin it all before he even screws me? After all. I’m the type of girl who goes to the salon looking like a million dollars and I leave knowing I now look like solid gold bullion.
When I arrived to the bedroom where we usually have sex, Emilio was patiently reading a book. He set it down. “Would you like some company? Maybe you’d like to bed your wife?” I asked, slipping under the sheets.
“A most wonderful idea, Cara Mia. How beautiful you look tonight, Mariana. I knew, from the first time I saw you, that you would make the most perfect wife for me and would also be the most wonderful bed mate and the most sensuous of lovers,” Emilio smiled as he turned to me.
“Oh Emilio. You are the most wonderful and special husband. You say such lovely, and the very most precious things to me darling. Oh, how I do love you so very much, you masculine, virile man. You are everything to me Emilio,” I whispered, as I reached into the exercise pants he’d worn to bed that night.
He won’t wear the soft satiny men’s pajamas I sometimes buy him. He has me give them away. He doesn’t like the way they feel on him. He only likes satiny bed wear against my soft, smooth skin. He wears exercise pants and sweatshirts in cooler weather.
He wears exercise shorts and t-shirts when it’s warmer. When I reached into those pants I felt the already rock-hard erection he had. Yum. So massive. And it’s all mine and all for me. It does make me feel like such a fortunate woman. His sexual desire for me knows no bounds.
For instance, I will tell you about a quiet, Saturday afternoon last Fall. The girls from my book club here, North of Phoenix, in the Sedona area, had just left. Like me they’re all married to Hispanic men that are associates of my husband. After coffee or tea and discussing our book for that month, we spent some time chatting about children, recipes, servants, our hairdressers and, of course, our most, very, favorite lipsticks.
Silly, girly, non-sensical wifey things and such. We never, ever, dwell on politics, current events, the world’s problems, or God forbid, sports. Then we gave each other little kisses on the cheeks and said our goodbye’s. I then saw to it that Estella, the parlor maid had made the den spotless. I was looking out the window.
Then I felt Emilio’s hands on my waist and he told me how nice I looked and how good my body felt to him. It was no different than the night, right after his family just left after dinner. His massive cock was ready. The massive cock of this wonderful man who, well, had saved my life. Literally. It’s such a long story to tell. However I will deal with that frightening episode of my past in the next chapter.
But how could I not give this man my all, after him doing something like that for me? When I felt that hard cock thru his sweat pants, I just gasped and whispered, “You’re always ready for me, are you not, my Hombre? You lust for me always, don’t you, my Vato? Let’s get these pants off, shall we?”
I then pulled his pants from him and his penis stood straight out. I knew what he wanted. I loosened and untied the pussy-bow that kept the top of my peignoir closed. Then I pulled my slender arms thru the billowy sleeves, and lowered the top, to expose my hormonally induced and implanted, 36-D breasts.
Oh, he does love to suck on my boobs. While I played with his cock he felt, licked and nibbled my tits. They’re really his tits. After all, he paid for every bit of flesh, fat and silicone that makes up those pretty knockers, he likes so much.
“Emilio, my dearest. Would you like me to take your cock in my mouth? Or, maybe you want to screw me?” I asked, softly. He likes when I speak softly and throatily.
“Yes. I want to lay on my back. Can you lower yourself down upon me, Cara?” My wonderful husband asked.
“Emilio darling, of course I can. I will do anything you desire of me. I just need a very brief moment to lubricate both of us, my loving Vato,” I answered.
I keep the proper lubricant in both bedrooms. The one we normally use, the Master Bedroom, and of course my “Princess” boudoir. I reached into the bedside lamp stand drawer and removed a lubricating suppository which I slipped into my rectum. Then I procured a squeeze bottle of sterile baby oil.
I coated Emilio’s penis lovingly with the baby oil. By the time I mounted Emilio, the suppository had melted and I was dripping with lubricant. His organ is massive. I’ve been properly trained with the largest dilators and butt plugs.
My sainted Mother-in-Law and her beautiful, calculating, daughters carefully and selectively, saw to that. Still, Emilio is so well-endowed, that he still tells me what a “tight pussy” I have. That’s good I guess? I mean, no woman on earth, really ever wants her husband telling her that her pussy is just a sloppy mess, does she, now? I would think not. At least I know I never want to hear those words spoken.
But, eventually, with a sigh, I relaxed my sphincter muscles and Emilio’s cock carefully slid into my rectum. I do exercises, on a weekly basis to be able to handle my husband’s large erect penis. Then the fun began. I was in a squatting position that moonlit evening. Pumping up and down upon his cock.
My well-turned, tanned and waxed legs, raising me up and settling me down as I pleasured Emilio as the good wife he expects me to be. My aerobics and Zumba dancing that I do at the health club really paid off that night. Emilio groaned in passion. I adore the sound of his manly groans when I am screwing him.
My shrunken genitalia dribbled a milky white fluid on to his belly. That was no matter to be concerned with. I’d lick it off of him after he had climaxed. I enjoyed this sort of position immensely as I could quite nearly control how often and how forcefully his prick would contact my prostate.
I do get some sexual stirrings and stimulation from my now, very tiny, cock and balls. However, my rectal canal and mostly my prostate is now the main source of my sexual pleasure. As Emilio’s groans became louder I vocally stirred him on.
“Oh, that’s it. Oh you big, hunky Latin stud. Screw me. Oh my gracious when your cock is inside of me it’s like I’m flying to Venus, Emilio. You are such a manly man darling. Oh, what your big, hard, fat cock does to me and for me, my lover,” I gasped.
“Oh geez, oh I can feel it. You’re coming, aren’t you? Oh, Emilio. Fill me up. Pump your hot sperm inside of me. Oh yes. Oh yes. Oh that’s fantastic!” I exclaimed as he shot his load into me, in what truly felt like buckets of cum.
I know it dribbled out of my ass and all over him, but I couldn’t stop it. He is simply just a sperm producing beast, this man. Later, as I licked his body clean, and plugged my ass with a tampon, I heard his manly snoring. It was now okay for me to douche and cleanse the makeup off of my face.
When I was finally, all fixed, I checked my hair and wondered if I shouldn’t wear a hairnet back to bed? No. I wouldn’t. I’d only recently had this body wave put in and there was plenty of spray lacquer in my tresses at that juncture. Thankfully, my lady’s maid Celestine, always makes me aware of when I need my hair to be shampooed, next.
After a perm or body wave it’s important not to wash one’s hair too soon, or too frequently. Celestine even makes all of my salon appointments for me. I really don’t have to lift a finger do I? Well maybe when someone is doing my nails?
After all, I’m a princess, aren’t I? Well, I’m a gangster’s princess but I’m still someone’s princess. It’s true. I lead a very pampered, privileged life. All I really need to do is look very pretty, keep a slim waistline, a tight butt and screw like a whore when my husband wants to make love.
Yes, it is a little strange and maybe a bit unusual for me, who was born a boy, to be the mollycoddled, painted-up, slutty wife of a Drug Lord’s son. But I am alive and I could have been not alive, if you know what I mean? And of course I live in the lap of luxury and affluence.
I wear the prettiest most expensive dresses and shoes. My maid picks up the phone when she thinks my hair needs to be done. I know I eat like a bird to keep my weight just right, but the food is all top-shelf and very nutritious. I really have it made. And seriously, being a boy wasn’t really all it was ever cracked up to be.
Not for me anyway. I really wasn’t very good at being a boy. I lost that privilege, if it was truly a privilege, a long, long time ago. And I’d prefer any day, to be Emilio’s wife, then the victim of his father’s hit men. Why don’t I just tell you the story?
Chapter Two: Just a Scared, Simpering Sissy
It really freaked me out, to find out that Gomez, the guy I’d ripped off for two kilo’s of Mexican pot, was actually a runner for Don Ricardo Dominguez. Talk about scared shitless, right to your chilled bones. I knew then that I needed to disguise myself and get out of Arizona and then out of the country.
My very first pitiful attempt to disguise myself was to purchase a pair of fake, large, round, eye-glasses at Walmart. Then I headed to a hair salon that I had noticed, did walk-ins. I told the lady at the desk I wanted my below-the-shoulder length hair cut shorter and dyed darker.
She took me to a shampoo sink to wash my hair and then to one of the stylists that looked me over.
“You’ve got fantastically thick hair. But you could use a cut and styling. Any reason you want to color it darker? I mean how dark do you want to go?” The stylist asked.
She showed me my color in a hairstyle and color book. Then she showed me darker shades. The hair models in the book were all females.
“I’m only showing you women because of your hair length. But you would make a very pretty girl, by the way,” she teased.
I finally looked at this photo of a stunning Latina beauty. I had no idea how prophetic that photo would turn out to be. She had a beautiful head of lush, thick, shiny hair. It was done in a longish bob that curled up prettily under her chin.
I did want the darker color but not the style. I got both. As the hairdresser watched me look at myself in the styling station mirror, I had the most puzzled look on my face at the finished product she’d given me.
“I’m really sorry honey. But, I just couldn’t help myself. But you’re a living doll. I just wanted so badly to give you that flipped under style. Don’t worry. That flipped curl I gave you will wash out,” she smiled.
I decided I would have to drive north to get to Canada. Going south would be crazy. For starters, further south was Dominguez gang territory. Plus I spoke and understood English better that I spoke and understood Spanish.
I’d had four years of high school Spanish, and one year in college before I dropped out the year prior. Of course it was taught in very proper Castilian Spanish. I spoke it well enough to get around but I never thought of myself as fluent in it.
I’d got a late start and decided to stay overnight north of Sedona. It wasn’t a seedy motel or anything, but now that I think of it I should have gotten a room more in view of the front desk. Not that it would have really stopped Don Ricardo’s henchman from grabbing me.
Though I was frightened for my life I wasn’t able to put up much of a fight. Strangely enough they didn’t kill me on the spot. After smacking me around for good measure they handcuffed me behind my back. Then they tied my feet together. I was finally blindfolded and gagged with tape across my mouth.
They later threw me into the back of what turned out to be an SUV. I’d later find out, that as I was being driven east to a Ranchero outside of Albuquerque, New Mexico, that my car was burned and blown up with Gomez’s dead body inside. Nearby, conveniently dropped on the ground was my wallet, and one license tag from my car. The police weren’t likely to try and I.D. the body. Too messy.
They’d just figure it was a drug deal gone bad and write me off a dead. We’d drive most of the night and arrive at a secluded Ranchero after daybreak. I’d been drugged with an injection in the butt so I slept a good bit of the way.
My ankles were unbound and I was dragged roughly from the SUV. I heard one of the thugs say in Spanish, in a laughing tone, “Here she is Donna Madre Francesca. All in one piece. She’s a very pretty one.”
Then I smelled perfume and heard a woman’s voice saying, “Bring the slut inside.”
“Yes Donna Madre Francesca. As you wish,” the thug answered with great reverence.
Whoever this women was she was well respected by Don Ricardo’s boys.
“Tie the little bitch up in that chair for now. Teresa, Viviane, Ana Maria, our guest is here!” The woman named Donna Francesca called out. Then my blindfold was removed and my face was soundly slapped with a forehand and a backhand. It was the hand of Donna Francesca doing it.
“You whore. A man is dead because of you. You should be thanking the heavens above my youngest son prefers pretty boys like you to girls. You men may go. You’ve done your work well. I will tell my husband. You will be taken care of. And not a word of this to anyone,” Donna Francesca added.
“No Madre Donna. Our lips are sealed. Thank you Donna Francesca,” thug number two said.
I was still scared shitless. I couldn’t possibly assess my situation at all. There were four reasonably attractive women around me. All four were armed with sidearms. All four were dressed in dark slacks, ankle boots and dark blouses. They were assuredly Latinas. Their hair varied in coloring.
Donna Francesca’s dark tresses were streaked slightly with gray. One of the girls, possibly the youngest had a lovely shade of midnight brown. Another had tints of red throughout her otherwise dark tresses. The last girl had burgundy shading in her dark brown hair.
The styles varied but ran to being updo’s and out of the way and away from their faces. Donna Francesca pointed to me.
“Untie our pretty guest, Teresa and Ana Maria. So I can show her what her fate is should she try and escape,” Donna Francesca said.
With my hands still cuffed behind my back and my mouth still taped, the two girls untied me from the chair. Donna Francesca grabbed me by my recently colored hair and pulled me to the window beside the front door. There stood a muscular brute, wearing sunglasses and armed with an assault rifle.
“Do you see that beast, you sissy? If you try to escape and they catch you and keep you alive for me, I have promised them they can take you to their bunk house and use you as their sissy kitchen-bitch and slut-maid for a week. Then when they give you back to me I think you will be chastened, enough, no?” Francesca threatened.
“Of course then I will have to tell my youngest son that his future virgin bride has been soiled and that she is a tramp. I will leave it to him what your fate will be, but I don’t think he will be very happy with you?” Donna Francesca added.
“Put the little princess back on her throne girls,” Francesca said and two of her daughters escorted me back to the chair I’d been in. Francesca then came over and ripped the tape from my mouth. I screeched all much too girlishly.
“Momma, she even screams like a girl. And look at that pretty hair,” said the girl that I would find out was named Teresa.
“Yes, I think she will be easy to emasculate. Take her handcuffs off of her Teresa. She’ll behave. If she doesn’t we can Taser her into submission,” Francesca promised.
Teresa, the youngest of the girls, made me stand and she unlocked my cuffs. Then she pushed me roughly to the chair. Francesca finally filled me in on my fate.
“My husband already had a hit out on you, when our youngest son saw your photo on the Don’s desk. Our son Emilio enjoys the company of pretty, girlish boys a little more than he likes girls. He came to me and asked me to have my husband spare you. He said you were the prettiest boy he’d ever seen, Chica,” Francesca said.
“I thought about it. I told him I’d keep you alive only if we could turn you into a girl for him and he would marry you. I want the appearance for my son of a normal marriage to a pretty wife. He agreed. In fact, he is very excited. Incidentally, for someone who likes such pretty sissies, he is very ruthless,” laughed Francesca.
“You are lucky. He is so ruthless my husband has chosen him over his two older brothers, one a lawyer, the other an MBA, to take over as the Don. You will be the bride of a very famous criminal my Chica,” Francesca smiled.
I buried my head in my hands and began to sob. Oh my God! Were they going to surgically change my sex?
“Momma she even cries like a girl,” Teresa said again.
“Don’t fret Chica. My son will leave your little boy parts intact. He thinks that will be cute to see you in a shortie nightgown with a penis and testes. But we will be giving you a nice set of tits along with a fat butt and plump lips. I want you to meet three of my four daughters,” Francesca ordered as I sniffled.
“Teresa is my youngest. You will call her Ms. Teresa. She is excellent with hair, makeup and fashion. She will be teaching you how to do your own hair, nails and makeup as well as the hair, nails and makeup of other females. It’s a very girly thing to participate in, when you do another girl’s hair and nails for her,” smiled Francesca.
“Teresa is also very big on fashion, perfume and accessories. She will instruct you on what to wear, and when to wear it. You will be taught how to tell a pair of Capri’s from a pair of Palazzo’s, for instance. Not that you’ll ever wear slacks or pants again in your life,” laughed Francesca.
“Viviane is my next to the youngest. Again, to you she is Ms. Viviane. She has done fashion modeling. She will teach you how to conduct yourself like a female. You will learn to walk, talk, sit, stand, pose, move and gesture as a girl does. You will learn to be charming, sweet, seductive, as well as coy. You will learn how a girl makes eye-contact and smiles,” explained Francesca.
“My next to the eldest is Ms. Ana Maria. She will see to it that you are skilled in cooking, cleaning, managing a budget and running a household. My son will see to it that you have servants, but you must be taught how to do the very work they will perform for you,” Francesca added.
“I will teach you to speak the Castilian Spanish tongue fluently. It will be as if you were the debutante daughter of a billionaire. There are other things we will school you in that we won’t mention right away. Now, as for your name. Forget your current name. You are being trained to become Mariana Margarita Dominguez. Your car was burned and blown up with Gomez’s bullet riddled body inside,” Francesca announced.
“Our men carefully left clues nearby to point to you being in the car. The person you once were is gone. The sooner you forget that person existed, the easier your life will become. We are going to be immersing you in all things feminine. Begin to think of yourself as a real girly-girl and you will be just fine,” Francesca ordered.
“Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way. We know how to punish you and use harsh corporal discipline. Or you can comply with our wishes and save yourself some agony. Which is it?” Francesca asked.
“Very well. Strip! Take all of your clothing off. You don’t have anything we haven’t seen. Except that it might be a lot smaller. You have five seconds to begin stripping and if you don’t, well, then we will taser you,” she warned.
I slowly began removing every stitch of clothing I had on. These ladies meant business. They started to laugh and mock the size of my penis when I took off my underwear.
“Ana Maria. Take those filthy clothes and have one of the men incinerate them. Teresa, run her a bubble bath. Viviane, put a bathing cap on her, and show her how to apply depilatory. Then have her shower before her bath. Make sure her eyebrows are thinned,” Francesca ordered.
“I want her cleaned, hairless, smooth and smelling like a flower. Then you can begin her hair and makeup lessons Teresa. After that, Viviane can show her how to make us lunch,” Francesca smiled.
Some time later, I was sitting in my new, very femininely appointed boudoir at my new vanity. My legs were girlishly crossed. My body was hairless from the neck down. I’d been made to apply body lotion and powder in every nook and cranny of my soft, scented skin.
My eyebrows were two very narrow, high-arched slender curves. My hair was wet and wrapped turban style in a pink towel. My ears were pierced twice each, and each held two pearl studs. Teresa was instructing me on how to paint my new nail extenders. As my nail polish dried Teresa had me look into the vanity mirror while she began my makeup lessons.
I watched carefully to see what she was doing. I felt it wise to show interest and ask questions. She hushed me.
“Listen to me girl. You are to talk softly, like this, with a pretty, high-pitched, hushed whisper. You should practice puckering your lips when you speak. And you should click your tongue prettily as if you are lisping,” Teresa insisted.
“That is the way we’ll begin to teach you to talk like a girl. There are other methods we will employ. Now watch as I blend your foundation, powder and blush. See?” Teresa asked.
After she’s done my eyes and lined my lips, she had me practice putting on my very red lipstick.
“You will learn to apply lipstick very quickly. You will carry a compact and lipstick with you in a clutch-bag everywhere that you go, even in the house. Whenever one of us snaps our fingers that means you are to take out your compact and lipstick, and freshen your lips and powder your nose,” Teresa smiled.
“You can paint your toes at bedtime. Normally I’d have you set your hair then. But today we’ll set it now, so you look very pretty at supper. Watch. I’ll do a curler and then you’ll do one. Practice makes perfect. See, I section the hair, finger in some setting gel and roll your sectioned hair onto the curler. I make it nice and tight and then pin it,” Teresa added.
“By the way did someone just do your hair? That style and color are just so girly? Now you try it. That’s it girl. Nice and tight. Once you start going to the beauty parlor you’ll be amazed at how fast the hairdressers can roll up your hair. Once we get your hair on curlers we’ll go have lunch,” Teresa promised.
I told Teresa about my trip to the salon to “disguise” myself. After my hair was set, Teresa sprayed it and put a hairnet, and then a scarf over the rollers. I was wearing a pair of pumps with kitten heels, a tight black panty-brief, a black training bra and a floral print, shortie, satin robe. Teresa showed me how to hold my hands in the air daintily.
“It’s as if your fingernails were wet with polish. Then allow your wrists to go limp and languid. It’s a good way to keep your balance in heels, though those little kittens you have on should be easy to manage. Keep you pretty clutch in your left hand,” Teresa said.
As I traipsed behind Teresa into the living room I couldn’t see just how prissy and sissified I was walking. Especially with the pink clutch in my long ivory colored fingernails. As I entered the living room all eyes were on me. Viviane was the first to remark.
“Doesn’t Mariana look nice, ladies? Mariana you look just like a cute girl prepping for a date with your hunky boyfriend,” Viviane smiled.
“She does, Viviane. Honey are you ready to help me to fix lunch?” Ms. Ana Maria asked.
I puckered my lips and clicked my tongue and spoke in a soft, high pitched whisper, just as I’d been practicing with Teresa. “Yes Ms. Ana Maria,” I said. Though it came out, “Yeth, Mith, Ana Maria.”
“Very well then precious. Follow me to the kitchen. And keep those prettily manicured hands up, just like that. Now watch me and swivel those hips a little bit more. Very nice princess,” Ana Maria added as I minced behind her.
Ana Maria showed me how to make iced tea and small sandwiches cut into fours. I was made to sit with Viviane and she showed me how to take tiny bites and eat daintily like a female. As soon as lunch was over and before I cleaned things up, Teresa snapped her fingers to remind me to get out my compact and my tube of bright red lipstick to fix my face.
Everyone watched as I carefully filled in my lips, checked the rest of my makeup and powdered my nose. My after lunch lessons consisted of my charm lessons with Viviane.
“We’re a little behind today but it’s the first day. Normally you’ll be up earlier with Teresa and then you’ll do breakfast with Ana Maria, makeup and hair with Teresa and Charm with me all prior to lunch. Then lunch and housekeeping with Ana Maria. Mother will do Spanish lessons with you after dinner,” Viviane told me. My head was spinning trying to keep up.
“Let’s begin some walking exercises in a pair of higher heels. See which pair of two-inch heels fits you the best. We’ll have someone in, so you can be fitted better for clothes and shoes this week. Right now you’re just wearing a collection of our hand-me-downs,” Viviane explained.
“But you aren’t very big and we’ve got you on a diet to slim you down even more. Okay, those fit well enough. Watch how I walk. This is a simple way to walk in the house and still feel pretty. It’s all about looking and feeling pretty, Mariana,” Viviane explained.
She had me do some walking practice and then some sitting and standing. She taught me a basic curtsey and then she began my voice lessons. The Dominguez ladies already had me speaking as much of my high-school and collegiate Spanish as I could handle.
Viviane explained that soon enough they expected me to speak nothing but Spanish as that was all they were going to speak to me. Once my charm lessons were over, Viviane told me there was no reason for me to wear the kitten heels any longer.
“Keep those two-inch pumps on. You seem to be handling those well, Mariana. Now go see Teressa and she’ll help you get into a new outfit for dinner tonight,” Viviane said as I minced off to knock on Teresa’s boudoir door.
Teresa put me into my first waist cinch. She had me slip into some dark pantyhose with a flirty little red, swing skirt, with a gray, crochet front top. Then she sat me down to show me how to comb-out a roller set.
“Remove the pins that are holding the rollers first. Now pluck out your rollers and place them back in the roller tray. Nice. Now give your hair a healthy spritzing with this extra-hold spray. Now, watch me comb out the curls into a soft, wavy style,” Teresa added.
Teresa gave me a similar curved under, long, bob, “do” something like the hairdresser had, only with a little more wave and curl. Then she helped me fix my makeup. Finally she dabbed some perfume behind my ears and I was off to help fix dinner.
Ana Maria put me in an apron. For whatever reason I held the ends of the apron and curtsied to her. She seemed to like it.
“It might not hurt for you to curtsey to everyone you serve at mealtime, Mariana,” Ana Maria added.
After dinner I helped clean up and then had Spanish lessons with Madre Francesca. It had been a very long day for everyone. Madre had decided that once I adjusted to the schedule, I would be brushing her hair or doing her nails during my Spanish Classes.
“It is a way for us to bond more closely Mariana Margarita. After all, we are training you for a role in our family life. So, eventually we all must become very close,” Madre explained.
At bedtime, I began to realize what Madre had meant when she’d earlier told me they would be “immersing” me in things feminine. After Teresa had me put on my peignoir, panties and training bra, she had me carefully paint my toenails in the same ivory shade as my fingernails.
Then after I put a hairnet over my carefully coiffed hair she had me spray it with hairspray. Then I dabbed on perfume and put body lotion on my face, hands and legs. As if I didn’t smell prissy enough, Teresa spritzed perfume on my pillow. Add all that to the fact that my lingerie drawers were littered with scented sachets.
As I got under the covers, I laid my sweetly scented body on my perfumed pillow, surrounded by my flowery, sachet fragranced dainties and pretties. How could I not feel as if I was “immersed” in femininity? Upon that first evening’s sleep I told myself that there had to be a way out of this situation. But I wondered if there truly was.
Chapter III: Becoming a Girl
After an initial week of training I was paid a visit from a Female doctor specializing in transgender counseling and transition. Here name was Carmina Rococo. Up until now, the reality of what I was doing had not set in. Even now though, I didn’t realize what was occurring that I simply couldn’t comprehend.
You may have read stories, as I have done, about “Hostages” that became both attached emotionally and dependent upon their captors. I didn’t realize it but I was already doing everything I could possibly do to please my “mentors” at the Ranchero, who were actually my feminizing captors.
The very morning Doctor Rococo came to give me my first injections of Estrogen, Teresa had allowed me to take my rollers out of my hair and style in myself. I’d done everything with great care, trying to remember everything she’d been teaching me. When I’d finished my comb-out, I put a small dab of styling pomade on my fingers and fluffed out my curls.
Then I picked up a bottle of spritz and sprayed all around my freshly curled tresses. I then fluffed out my hair girlishly. I looked back into the mirror at the unsmiling, poker-faced Teresa. I turned to her with a pleading look on my face for some encouragement.
Then she smiled and said, “You did that wonderfully Mariana. Your hair looks so fantastic girl!”
I was so excited that I gasped, stood up and threw my arms around her. I wanted to cry I was so thrilled with the compliment.
“Oh thank you Ms. Teresa! I’ve been trying oh so hard to do well. Oh thank you so very much for your compliment,” I gasped, nearly hysterical.
“Oh, my pretty Mariana. You are so welcome. Why not do your own makeup today before breakfast? The lady doctor is coming shortly after we eat,” she added.
Doctor Carmina was very attractive and businesslike. After a perfunctory exam and blood draw, she injected me with Estrogen in each buttocks and near each peck. Then she gave me a 90 day prescription and some creams and gels to apply. Next she sat down with me to discuss the changes I’d be experiencing.
“Of course your breasts will be a little sore and may itch. Your butt will begin to become more round and plump. Your mood swings might be a little different. You may find yourself daydreaming more frequently. By the third set of injections you may find you have unusual sexual stirrings within your loins,” she explained.
“You might find yourself getting upset over silly things like a run in a stocking or your nails not turning out correctly. Just realize you’re no longer a boy. How old are you, Mariana?” Carmina asked.
“I’m not yet twenty-one, Doctor,” I said.
“I’m going to give you some throat spray to use to change your voice timbre. That way you should be able to avoid surgery for that. An esthetician I know, will be visiting to give you some injections to fatten your lips. How do you feel about becoming a female and living as one?” Carmina asked.
“I don’t truly know but I don’t think I have a choice?” I answered.
“That’s true. But consider the alternative. Don’t you find it nice to be alive? You’re surrounded by loving females that only want to help you succeed. For the time being just attempt to embrace being a pretty girl for right now. You’re a long way off from becoming a loving wife, sister, daughter and mother,” the doctor counseled.
“I’ll drop by every two weeks either for a counseling session or hormone replacement therapy. In the meantime enjoy being a girl,” the doctor added.
Later that day, a lady came by from a Modiste to take my body measurements, along with shoe and hat sizes. She even measured my fingers for rings.
“She’s lovely Francesca. She’ll make a beautiful bride for your Emilio. Not too tall, she’s barely five feet eight and a half inches. Right now she’s only 145 pounds. She needs to trim her waist and then plump up in all the right places,” the lady from the Modiste added.
“Yes. We really do have a lot to work with in Mariana. I think we could have a wedding within the year, but I want a June wedding. So we might wait until June of next year,” Francesca smiled.
When I laid down that night I felt like one of those princesses in a story who was betrothed to someone she didn’t know. I’d never met this man. I wouldn’t know him if I bumped into him. Then I realized I was already thinking like a girl.
It was hard not to think like a female, the way they had surrounded me with all things feminine. One evening when everyone was watching a movie I was sitting in my boudoir, upon the bed, reading a romance novel that Madre Francesca would later be testing me on.
She’d been giving me really girly fiction books to read that she’d enjoyed and then asking me to describe the characters and how I felt about the books. I knew what she was doing. And it was working. Slowly I’d began, more and more, to identify with the very pretty heroines in the stories.
I’d begun to get sexual stirrings when the handsome masculine hero’s made love to the beautiful female that was the main focus of the story. I knew it was the hormones and I knew it was my growing identification with the females that surrounded me.
Of late I’d started to think of Madre Francesca as a mother figure and I considered Teresa, Viviane and Ana Maria as if they were my sisters. I simply couldn’t help myself.
While I was reading the soppy novel, Teresa came in the room and sat near me on the bed. She smiled and touched my bare leg.
“How are you my Nina? You look deep in thought. Does Mummy have you reading one of her books?” Teresa asked.
“Yes, Teresa. Madre will likely test me on its contents soon. She’ll ask me what I think of the handsome Pirate Captain in the story,” I laughed.
Just then I realized I most likely couldn’t turn back. It was as if I was talking to my sister teasingly about our mother. Teresa was the twin sister of Emilio. So I did know that if they looked alike that he was a handsome man. Astonishingly, that made me feel good.
“Mariana. Soon, you will be checked into the clinic to have your boobs done. Has Doctor Carmina counseled you on the surgery and the recovery?” Teresa asked.
“Yes Teresa. I’m okay with it. I know it must be done. I have to look the part of a young woman when I marry your brother,” I nodded.
“Oh, my pretty brave sister. Please, let me come to the clinic with you and be with you when you come out of the anesthesia? Please my Nina?” Teresa asked, throwing her arms around me and hugging me.
I got tears in my eyes, I was so moved by this show of sisterly love.
“Of course Teresa. I would love for you to be there. Thank you,” I said tearfully.
“There is more we must discuss. You seem to be very much resigned to the fact that you are being cultivated to be Emilio’s wife. Once you have recovered from the implant surgery, you will begin going to Albuquerque with me, mother and my sisters to dine, shop and visit the beauty salon,” Teresa added.
“I look forward to that Teresa,” I smiled.
“Yes, we do also. And as we come more closely bonded thru girly lunches, shopping for shoes and dresses and having out hair done, we will begin to speak of, discuss and teach you how to be a wife in your marital bed to Emilio,” Teresa said, looking deeply into my eyes.
I gulped. I know this had to be coming. I didn’t know when, and I didn’t know how it would be approached, but it was now right in front of me.
“Yes, I know Teresa. Or at least I thought so. I know I must be able to please Emilio as his bride. And I know that you and Madre and your sisters will instruct me as gently as they have taught me everything else about being a female,” I said with a deep breath.
“Yes we will, my sister. You may count on that,” Teresa added as she kissed me softly on the lips.
I checked into the clinic the evening prior to my surgery. My new tits were implanted the following morning. I stayed overnight. For the first three to five days at the Ranchero I needed pain meds to sleep at night. I was young though. Not yet twenty-one.
I healed quickly and I’m happy to say, I was up and around admiring my new “girls” in the mirror as I got dressed to go shopping with Teresa, her sisters and Madre, within three weeks after the surgery.
I loved going to Albuquerque to shop and dine. And the beauty parlors there were wonderful! At this point I was truly enjoying being a girl. It was so much fun having my hair washed and set and then sitting with one or more of my “sisters” while we had French Manicures done.
I started looking forward to my after-dinner Spanish lessons with Madre Francesca when I’d brush her hair or paint her toenails, while we had full conversations and discussions in fluent Spanish. By now, it had been weeks since I’d spoken a word of English. I carried out all of my conversations fully in very proper Spanish.
My Spanish was so fluent and proper that Teresa and her sisters kiddingly would call me, “Little Miss Prissy” during our conversations at mealtime. Soon, I would leave for Sedona for my final training with my Duenna, Emilio’s oldest sister, Serena. Prior to that, though Teresa would show me something very interesting, she’d taken from an old newspaper.
We were sitting on the front porch of the Ranchero on a lovely Autumn evening. It had been a long time since any of the ladies carried anything like a taser or a pistol at their side. Of course, for obvious reasons there were still guards patrolling the Ranchero.
But I was, by now, considered helpless as well as harmless. I’d even begun to ride horses with the other ladies throughout the desert. Then, of course, they were armed, but for their own safety and security. I was so scared of guns I was frightened to carry one.
Teresa and I were having an after dinner glass of wine, when she reached into the pocket of her pretty blouse and brought out a folded article from the Sedona Newspaper. She held it an explained it, before handing it to me.
“Madre wanted me to show you this some time ago but I told her it was too soon. It’s from the Sedona Times. It was written, three days after you first came here to the Ranchero. It is an article on the demise of one, Martin Devereaux,” Teresa said, as I slowly took it from her hand.
I read it. It said that Martin had died from a bullet wound and it was an unsolved murder. “Foul play” they called it. It was as if I’d known Martin, but had forgotten him. I handed it back to Teresa.
“Are you okay my Nina?”
“Yes, of course. I stopped thinking long ago that anyone was going to come looking for me and rescue me. I don’t need to be rescued any longer. I’m a girl now. A very pretty girl with friends and a family. I have sisters and a mother. I’ll have a husband and be a mother one day, myself,” I smiled wanly.
We were on each end of a porch swing barely swinging.
“It would be nice if you’d come closer and hug me my Nina,” I said to Teresa.
“Of course my pretty sister,” she smiled.
She came close to me and held me so tightly and she kissed me all over my face.
“You are such a beautiful young lady. My brother is going to adore you,” Teresa promised.
We all began packing to move from the Ranchero, a little more than six months after my transformation had begun. Madre, Teresa, Viviane and Ana Maria would be returning to their family home. Back to their life with their household and friends. The girls were very excited to be seeing their boyfriends once again.
I would be driving with Duenna Serena to the Sedona home that Emilio and I would one day live in as man and wife. Serena would be making certain that I would be trained as the perfect wife for her brother. As I drove in the Cadillac Escalade towards Sedona it occurred to me that I’d went from Sedona to the Ranchero tied and gagged in the back of an SUV.
I was now riding with my future sister-in-law, with us both seated at opposite ends of the back seat. I was shod in tall heels with my knees pertly snugged together and my hands primly in my lap.
I was wearing sunglasses that belonged on a Hollywood actress and my permed hair was done in a cute pageboy and covered with a white, wide-brimmed sunhat. As always my makeup and nails were flawless. I had on a black and white polka-dot dress and held a black clutch in my folded hands.
Serena turned to me and said, “You’ll enjoy your new home, Mariana. My brother is with my parents, so that you and I, along with the servants may have privacy as I school you in your wifely duties. My sister’s will be dropping by to assist with some of those lessons,” Serena explained.
I had an idea what those lessons would be, but didn’t say a word. I’d been wearing larger and larger butt plugs and dilators for months now and knew I was ready for the next level in my training. I hoped Teresa would exclusively be my trainer in these matters but I suspected I knew better.
“Your Spanish is very eloquent Mariana. I’m very impressed. We are almost there. The servants will take our bags. I will show you around and introduce you to your personal lady’s maid first,” Serena explained.
The next juncture of my very feminine journey was about to commence.
Chapter IV: Sedona Princess
When I met my personal lady’s maid Celestine I instantly new that she and I would become more than just Mistress and servant. Upon our arrival to the Sedona Castillo, Serena showed me briefly around the grounds and then inside the home. Next she introduced me to my very prim, proper, personal Lady’s maid, Celestine.
Serena left us alone, so that Celestine could give me a more expanded tour and for Celestine and me to get to know each other, better. Celestine then surprised me with the most wonderful offer.
“Madame Mariana. It is such a long drive from Albuquerque. Why don’t you let me give you a full-bodied massage in the beauty room?” Celestine asked.
When I hesitated briefly, Celestine shyly added, “Madame. Everything will be just fine. All of the servants understand that you are a very special lady. We only care that you are marrying Master Emilio and plan to make him very happy. That is our only concern,” she smiled.
“Well then, of course. That would be lovely, Celestine. I’d enjoy that very much I think?” I said.
“Very well Madame Mariana. Why don’t I assist you getting into something more comfortable and then I’ll prepare the beauty room for your massage?” Celestine added.
Celestine helped me to disrobe, then she put me into a shorty Kimono. Taking me by the hand she escorted me into the beauty room where she dimmed the lighting, lit some candles and incense, before she put on some soft music with chimes and bells.
She got behind me to help me out of my kimono before she assisted me to the massage table. Covering me with a warm flannel sheet she warmed the oil before she began to massage my neck and head. She even oiled my tresses slightly prior to massaging my facial muscles.
Next she lowered the blanket before moving to my upper and then lower back. When she moved to my buttocks and upper thighs I truly began to feel so very good. Celestine worked her way down to my calf muscles before she went to my sensitive feet. I jumped somewhat as my feet have always been very tender and overly responsive to touching.
“Please relax Madame. That’s it. Let me do my magic. There now. Isn’t that nice? Now, let’s turn you over,” said Celestine as she finished with my delicate toes.
Her massage of my frontal areas was just as pleasurable. She began with my facial muscles and around my eyes prior to moving to my neck and shoulders. The warm oil she used was beautifully scented and fragrant. As she massaged across my chest she began to knead my bosom. The warm oil and her magical hands felt so sensual on my new, pretty, “Big girls.” In fact as she tweaked my nipples I felt an embarrassing stirring in my loins.
She worked her way down my body, ending again with me feet and toes. She again surprised me with another question which I answered hesitantly due to my unfamiliarity with a usual Mistress/servant relationship.
“Madame have you douched recently?” Celestine asked.
“I, well, yes, Celestine. Just this morning. Why do you ask?” I wondered.
“Madame, if I could, I’d like to remove your rectal plug and then massage the inner walls of you anus. It is really very relaxing. Would you care for me to do that Madame?” Celestine asked.
“Well, if that is what you have done previously, I guess that would be fine?” I wondered.
Celestine slowly slid my plug out of my rectum. Then at least two of her warm, oiled fingers entered my anal passage. Almost immediately I got a feeling of sensualness inside of me. I’d been wearing an anal plug for some time. Of course I knew it gave me a very sexy wiggle when I walked.
I’d also gotten somewhat of a sexual feeling from it. I also knew it was there, so that one day Emilio would be able to enter me more easily to have sex. But the feeling I received from Celestine massaging the inner walls of my anal cavity was like nothing I’d experienced.
I let out a soft, slow, sensual moan. I wiggled my shoulders and closed my eyes. My back arched slightly. My breathing came in soft, sexy gasps. I felt so very wonderful.
“Do you feel relaxed Madame? I hope you do. Part of my job as a lady’s maid and companion is to see to all of your needs,” Celestine whispered.
“Oh yes, Celestine. Indeed you are doing that and more my attentive maid,” I sighed.
It had been some time since I’d had any true sexual stimulus or relief. So when Celestine took her left hand and used it to apply warm oil to my genitalia, I said nothing except to sigh out, “Oh yes, Celestine.”
I felt like I was going over the moon. The more pleasure I showed from Celestine’s ministrations, the more intensely she massaged my anus and the more attention she paid to my penis and balls.
I knew the door to the beauty room was closed and locked but I also expected that Serena and other servants were in the house. I strained and tried not to be too noisy, even covering my own mouth. It worked to an extent as I finally jerked and contorted my back as I had a shuddering, very strong climax.
I felt fluid spurting from my nearly, fully erect penis and my testicles felt really alive. Celestine calmly continued her very professional applications until my body went virtually limp. After that, I could feel her cleaning me.
“Madame, please rest and relax until I return. I want to make your boudoir ready for you to nap until dinner. Please keep your eyes close and remain resting,” she said as she kissed me softly on my forehead.
A short time later she lifted me to a sitting position. She fitted me with kitten heeled pumps and a nightgown. Then she escorted me to my boudoir. She sat me on my bed and removed my footwear. Then she laid me down in bed and covered me.
“Sleep my beautiful angel. I’ll awaken you for dinner,” she promised.
I slept like a baby and when Celestine awakened me I was surprised it was still daylight out. She helped me dress in a sundress with strapped sandals. She brushed my hair and touched up my face. Then she showed me to the dining room where a smiling Duenna Serena was seated.
“Did you sleep well Mariana?” Serena asked.
“Oh yes. Celestine gave me the most lovely massage and then put me to bed. She even dressed me for dinner. She’s a real treasure, my Duenna Serena,” I exclaimed.
“Yes she is. She’s an expert in all of the beauty arts and domestic duties. I’m glad you like her. She’s my early wedding gift to you,” Serena smiled.
I looked at Serena puzzled.
“Celestine has been my personal maid and lady’s companion for over ten years. She’s my age. Around thirty-five. About fifteen years your senior. But she doesn’t look it at all,” Serena said.
“You see, ten years ago, my parents insisted as the oldest girl I was to have a lady’s maid such as my mother had. I was just never independent enough to refuse. Then I watched my three younger sisters speak up for themselves and refuse to have maids. They said it was too old-fashioned as a custom,” Serena added.
“But, I didn’t know what to do? I mean where would Celestine go? She loves being a maid. When mother said she wanted you to have a maid, I worked it out between mother and Celestine that she was to be your personal maid,” Serena smiled.
“Well thank you Serena. She’s such a lovely wedding gift. And by the way, you don’t look at all like you’re thirty-five either, Serena,” I added.
“You are too sweet. Have you thought of anything you might need?” Serena asked.
“Yes. Would it be presumptuous of me to ask for a photo of your brother to put on my dresser in my boudoir? I asked.
“No not at all. I’ll have Teresa bring a few, 8X10 framed pictures for you. Yes. That is a wonderful idea for you to look at the man you have never met and will one day marry. How silly of me. Teresa will be here to instruct you on the performance of your conjugal marriage duties, tomorrow, you know,” Serena said seriously.
“Yes, I know and I look forward to that. I suspect Emilio to be worldly. I want to be able to please him fully,” I said as Serena smiled and nodded.
Just prior to bedtime I wanted to again thank Celestine for the wonderful massage. I knew I would sleep well. I walked to her boudoir which was just down the hall from my boudoir. Her door was open and she had soft Latin music playing.
I should’ve waited for her to tell me to enter, or to have announced myself sooner. But I didn’t. I tapped lightly and said, “Celestine are you there?”
Of course she was there, and she was standing by her bed, in only her high heels getting ready to slip her nightgown over her head. She looked surprised when I entered. Then I became the one to be even more surprised. Her pointed breasts looked just lovely. Her hips were firm and rounded.
She had beautiful legs and a supple, narrow waist. But between her legs was a penis and testicles, not unlike mine. My mouth went wide open and I was completely embarrassed.
“Oh my goodness Celestine. How rude of me to just walk in on you. I’m so very sorry,” I blushed.
“No. Please Madame. It isn’t your fault. I should have had the door closed. I’m so very sorry. I was going to tell you all about me. If I didn’t get to it, I was going to ask Madame Serena to tell you. Please close the door and sit on my bed while I dress. We can talk and I’ll explain everything,” Celestine said.
She slipped on her nightgown, brushed her hair and freshened her lipstick.
“There. I feel much better. I’m fine. Where should I start? Oh I know. Well, over ten years ago, Madame Serena and I were engaged to be married. I didn’t exactly jilt her at the altar but the wedding was well into the planning stages when I told Serena I just did not feel right about being married,” Celestine began.
“Possibly if I’d left it at that, I might not be a maid today. But no, I also added that I was uncomfortable about her family’s business dealings. As you know, the Dominguez family is quite powerful and does not like being insulted,” Celestine sighed.
“I was taken to the same Ranchero you were schooled at and I was feminized and trained as Serena’s lady’s maid by her three sisters and mother. Serena even tried to tell her family that she was glad I’d backed out, as she did not feel comfortable about marriage either,” Celestine added.
“However it did not matter to her family. I don’t know that the emasculation and shaming was intended to be permanent or not. But, it ended up not mattering. The longer I performed the duties of Serena’s lady’s maid, the more comfortable I became in the position. I actually felt that I was cut out for that vocation,” Celestine explained.
“I knew I wasn’t cut out for marriage or for business. Being a maid felt perfect for me and I was very comfortable being a subservient female being told exactly what to do every minute of the day. I’m glad you know everything now, Madame Mariana,” said Celestine throwing her arms around me and hugging me.
“I am also Celestine. I was actually coming here to thank you once again for the lovely massage. I know I’ll sleep well. Goodnight Celestine,” I said.
The following morning Teresa came for breakfast. She had a small suitcase with her. After breakfast, Serena left the house and all the servants seemed to disappear except for Celestine. Teresa took me into my boudoir, opened her suitcase and handed me three different framed photos of Emilio.
I was correct. He was very swarthy, muscular, handsome and looked quite virile. I placed the pictures around the room. One on a dresser. Another on my vanity. The third upon the table top lamp stand. Then Teresa took a vibrator out of the suitcase and handed it to me.
“At night, or anytime you’re alone in your boudoir you might use this as you fantasize about Emilio. A lot of women do that. Now, Mariana, let’s get down to business. Let me ask you Mariana. Have you ever kissed a boy? No? Boys don’t kiss soft and sweet like girls. Boys kiss like this.” Teresa added, grabbing me and firmly pressing her lips against mine.
She then forced my mouth open with her tongue and sucked on my mouth. She then broke off the kiss. I was startled.
“Wow. I don’t think I ever kissed a girl like that?” I said.
“Which only proves to me that you are surely a sissy and were destined to live the life of a female. Trust me. Men like my brother kiss firmly like that. They also don’t give sweet soft kisses to a girl’s tits. They knead a woman’s boobs. They suck on a female’s boobs like they suck on her lips or her pussy. So get ready to be used sexually Mariana. Men are pigs,” Teresa explained.
“Okay, next question before we get going. Have you ever sucked a cock, Mariana. No? Well you’re going to suck a penis today. Come in here, Celestine. Close the door honey. Lock it just in case. Take your skirt and your panties off baby,” Teresa ordered.
I was getting a little nervous. With Celestine standing in her heels, blouse, garter belt and stockings, Teresa nodded towards me and said, “Kneel down in front of Celestine, Mariana. I’m going to give you instructions on how to suck a dick.”
There was no turning back now. I knelt obediently staring right at Celestine’s dangling cock and balls, which were hanging right in front of my face. Teresa didn’t waste any time.
“Cup her balls and feel them Mariana. Use both hands. Now Mariana, I want you to lick her testicles all over. Get them nice and sloppy wet and all juiced up. Oh yes, very good Mariana. Now I want you to put them in your mouth one at a time and suck them my pretty girl. Fondling, licking and sucking a man’s balls is a wonderful and necessary prelude to actually sucking his prick,” instructed Teresa.
“Very good. You’re learning well. You’ve even gotten a little rise out of Celestine’s cock. I think I know someone who is going to become just the most excellent little cocksucker. Men love having their penis sucked, Mariana,” Teresa teased.
I did everything Teresa told me to do as to fondling, licking and sucking Celestine’s testicles. Celestine moaned in pleasure but said very little. I knew what was coming next and though I didn’t relish the thought I knew it had to be done.
I knew in my near future I would be providing sex for Emilio whenever he desired sex, and I wanted it to be both pleasurable and exciting for him as well as for me. I knew being a good wife to Emilio would be one way of thanking him for having my life spared.
“Now Mariana. Hold Celestine’s penis in both hands and lick all over the end and then up and down the entire length. Make believe it is a nice, tasty ice cream cone. That’s it, lick it where it meets her tiny balls. Now begin to slide it into your mouth and alternate between licking it and sucking it,” Teresa went on with my lessons.
As Celestine’s cock began to swell and get larger, I closed my eyes and felt myself really getting into it. Celestine was also enjoying it from what I could tell. I have no clue when the last time she’d had any sexual pleasure but she was certainly aroused. Her prick swelled to an almost full, firm erection and her balls looked full.
I had to be doing well as no longer was Ms. Teresa encouraging me or describing to me how to give a blow job. I was on my own, and I relished that I was causing my maid to become very aroused.
“You should be able to tell when, whoever you are blowing, is getting close. Right now I think Celestine is very close to climaxing. There are three ways a man likes to ejaculate when receiving a blow job. The first is to have you swallow every, last drop of his sperm. That is what you will be doing today,” Teresa said.
“If you have to do it, please cling to Celestine’s butt and don’t let her out of your mouth until she has emptied her ball sack. And swallow everything. The next way a man might want to shoot his load is, all over your face and hair. There’s nothing more fun than having your hairdo and makeup ruined by a sperm facial and conditioning treatment,” Teressa added.
“The last way is some combination of the other two. Swallow some of the load and and allow the rest to be sprayed all over your hair and face. Celestine is ready Mariana. Get ready to drink some sperm, baby,” Teresa cautioned.
Teresa was correct of course. Celestine began to hum, very strangely. Then she gasped and let out a very feminine scream. At last her ass bucked back and forth as her penis let loose a geyser of sperm right into my mouth and throat. I did everything I could to take it all in and swallow it.
I did very well, even according to Ms. Teresa. I swallowed all of it with the exception of a little dribble outside of my mouth, but even that I licked off. She had me lick the very shaky-legged Celestine perfectly clean before she let Celestine sit down and compose herself. I was sent off, mincing to the bathroom to brush my teeth and gargle with mouthwash.
When I returned Celestine was getting ready to leave the room. “Oh, thank you so very much Madame Mariana. That was very exciting ma’am,” said Celestine.
“Of course Celestine. Thank you for helping,” I added.
Teresa had strapped a dildo on to her self and I knew what was next. She had me kneel in front of her initially to wet the dildo. I got it nice and sloppy wet before she had me kneel on the bed. My skirt, panties, blouse and bra were off. I was still wearing my heels, garter and stockings.
My ass was now lubricated before Teresa mounted the bed and slowly began to penetrate my rectum with the dildo. As it went in deeper, I went from the sensation of being stretched to the sensation of being pleasured. As Teressa slowly moved the faux penis in and out of me she reached underneath my torso to squeeze my boobs.
It was now a very nice feeling especially when she came into contact with my prostate. As my breathing pattern increased she increased the tempo. For the second time in two days I got what was being very close to getting a fully stiff erection. Not quite but it was very sensuous. When I felt myself nearing a climax I began to simper and cry. Teresa increased the tempo until I would squirt semen all over my bed.
Serena came back to the Castillo and Celestine served us lunch. There was no mention at lunch about the sexual activities during the morning. After lunch, the two Dominguez sisters, the oldest, Serena and the youngest, Teresa related to me their brother Emilio’s likes and dislikes, but mostly the things he enjoyed.
They told me of his favorite meals, his favorite cigars, his most liked brand of Scotch whiskey, his most cherished movies and the things he liked most to do. I was learning more and more about the man I was to marry.
Things went along this way for the next six weeks. Teresa came by and she used Celestine and the dildo, in training me about the mysteries of the boudoir. Serena schooled me in the running of the household and the supervising of the servant staff. And Celestine became a cherished companion.
Finally at the end of November, Serena bade me farewell.
“My brother will be here on Saturday around noon. Welcome him back home. He will be thrilled to finally meet you,” Serena said.
That night, in the privacy of my room I planned on how I would set up my boudoir to pleasure him. I also lit some candles so I could see his photos. I laid in bed, with the vibrator and lubricant, oiling my genitalia and rectum. Then when the time was right I turned on the vibrator and closed my eyes.
I could see his face from looking at the photographs so many times. I pushed the vibrator into my anus and rotated it. I pictured the cock and balls I had never seen. I made believe the vibrator was his penis. Soon enough I was spurting and calling out his name, “Oh, Emilio, my loving man.”
I slept like a baby and awoke to make myself beautiful. I was ready. As I saw a vehicle in the distance, Celestine kissed my forehead and said, “That is him Madame. I will leave you alone now.”
Emilio got out of the back seat of the Escalade and two other men stood watch. He walked to the porch and opened the door. I took hold of the edges of my swing skirt and curtseyed. “Welcome home my Hombre. I am so glad to see you,” I said.
He stood looking at me and smiled. “You are even more beautiful than I imagined Mariana. The pictures my family took of you do not do your rare beauty justice,” Emilio said.
He took me in his arms and kissed me, but not too forcefully.
“Have you eaten, Emilio? I have some steak salad,” I said.
“That sounds good,” he added.
We sat informally in the kitchen. He asked me if I was going to eat.
“No. I have just eaten. I will watch you and wait on you. Would you like some Chivas?” I asked.
“Yes, and why don’t you have a glass of wine?” Emilio asked.
We sat across the table from each other. I sipped some red wine and he sipped Scotch. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a gold cigarette case. I never liked the smell of cigarettes. And all I could think of now was how badly the cigarette would make my pretty hair smell.
But he did not take a cigarette out of the case. He removed a hand-rolled joint of what I assumed was marijuana.
“I have these rolled by one of my men. It is the best Mexican pot we deal in, along with the finest of Lebanese hashish. Then the entire joint is dipped in Opium oil from Afghanistan. Let us smoke this. Pour us each another glass of the beverages we are drinking,” Emilio stated.
As a good, future wife I did as I was told. The wine help cool the strong smoke. I coughed several times but soon I felt in a dreamlike state.
“Come and sit on my lap Chica and let me hold you and feel you,” Emilio smiled and winked.
Now, I couldn’t wait. I gladly got up with my wine glass in hand and sashayed prettily over to Emilio. My tall heels clicked on the tile flooring and my hips swung seductively. My butt plug was already out of my rectum. With the wine and dope going straight to my head, I sat gently, sideways upon his lap.
I sat my wine glass on the table and snaked my arms around his shoulders. He took a sip of Scotch and then put the glass up to my lips. I sipped daintily. He then put the smoldering joint in my lips and I sucked a big drag of hot smoke. I needed another drink of wine to cool my throat off. I must have had a glazed look in my eyes. Emilio pulled me to him and kissed me really forcefully this time.
I wanted to bite his lips I was so horny by now. He unbuttoned my blouse and reached inside to unfasten my bra. He did it so very quickly. Maybe he liked sissies more than girls but he’d certainly taken off his share of bras. He kissed both of my nipples.
“Which bedroom would you like to go to now Chica?” Emilio asked.
“I have my boudoir set up for you. If you like soft music, incense and candles?” I said.
“If you want us to go to your boudoir that is perfect for me,” Emilio added.
I took his hand and skipped prettily to my boudoir, closing and locking the door. He sent a quick text and turned off his phone. He began to undress and so did I. I looked into the mirror and fluffed my wild curls before I freshened my lipstick. I had a pretty wild look that morning.
I wanted my man to know I was his, in any way he wanted to take me. It was probably the sluttiest I’ve ever dressed or did my hair and makeup with Emilio, and it was basically on our first date. I’d never ever again dress that way when we went anywhere. When we go out publicly or when his family visits I am the picture of sophisticated elegance.
At the country club the eyes of everyone there are on me. My hair is always perfect and I’m wearing the latest designer fashions. Even my mother-in-law complements me on how sophisticated and stylish I am whenever she sees me.
But that first afternoon I was Emilio’s “Puta” and I didn’t care. I wanted him to want me and I wanted him. With the incense and candles lit, and the soft, eerie music playing, we got into bed and I let him have his way with me. He touched my breasts and he surprised by massaging my genital area.
I reciprocated by cocooning his cock with the fingers of both my hands. I wanted this fat cock in both my mouth and my ass and I could not decide. So, I asked Emilio what he wanted me to do.
“Darling, would you like me to suck you off or take you into my ass dearest? I asked.
“Suck me first my angel. Then I want to take you as any woman is taken. For that I want you on your back,” Emilio said.
“Very well my Vato. For me to suck you, I’d like you on your back please?” I asked.
Emilio laid there comfortably against the pillows, his eyes partially closed while I licked all over his belly. Then I descended upon his very erected penis. I took it into my mouth and gave him my very best deep throat, before withdrawing to lick the head, the shaft and his swollen testicles. The more I licked and sucked, the more Emilio slowly rolled his hips.
I simply adored looking at the swollen, purple head of his massive cock. “My handsome man. Let me lay on my back and take your manly penis inside of me?” I asked him.
“Yes, my princess. I would love to be inside your hot pussy right now,” he said.
We quickly exchanged places. I laid against the comfortable fluffy pillows. He lifted my ass up into the air and rested it upon another pillow. Then he lubricated the walls of my anus and oiled up his dick. He slowly poked his cock into my rectum. I pushed back against him grunting. I wanted him inside of me so very badly.
Finally I felt him slide inside of me and tap against my prostate. “Oh my Hombre. That is so good. Let me wrap my legs around you so we can make wild, passionate love,” I begged.
I wrapped my beautifully shaped, smooth, waxed legs around his torso and he began to fuck me lustily. I alternated between gasping, squealing and screeching as I enjoyed the first and only real man that would ever take me as his bitch. I wanted to feel the strong thrusts of his cock along with the shooting of his hot, messy seed.
It would not be too long for that to happen. I tightened my grip on his waist with my supple legs, and thrust harder against him, squeezing my tight anal muscles around his dick. Then I felt his penis awaken and swell to maximum proportions before he grunted very mannishly and ejaculated deep within my anal passage.
Oh, how I loved the wet, warm feeling of his ejaculate filling me up. His cock pumped and pumped before he lay on top of me totally spent.
“Oh Cara Mia. You are so amazing. Someone so young as you making love so sensationally. You are just phenomenal,” Emilio exclaimed as he rolled off of me onto his back.
We spent the remainder of the afternoon and early evening, talking, laughing and making love again. Later he went to his room and showered while I prepared a light supper. I told Celestine not to bother the staff as I wanted to be alone with Emilio.
Each day that followed I got up early to perform oral sex on him, before preparing his breakfast and seeing him off to wherever he went during the day. I never asked him his business nor do I do that even today. If he wants to tell me anything I will listen intently.
But if he remains silent I never pry. When he asks though, I tell him about my day and he smiles while he listens. Then he takes me in his strong arms and kisses me.
As Christmas neared, I told him what I wanted to get each and every female member of his family. I asked him for suggestions on his brothers and father. He so appreciated my concern and generosity. Upon Christmas Eve morning we were preparing to travel to his parents house to spend several days.
The vehicle was packed. I was making last minute checks around the house. Everything looked just perfect. Emilio asked me to come into his bedroom. When I walked in he was standing, holding a blue box that held a diamond engagement ring! I stopped dead in my tracks.
“Will you marry me my precious angel?” Emilio asked.
“Oh Emilio you wonderful man. What a lovely Christmas present!” I gasped.
“Of course I will. I was meant to marry you, darling,” I said as he slipped the ring onto my finger.
“Thank you so much for accepting my proposal, my Chica,” he said as he hugged and kissed me.
“Thank you for asking me and thank you for seeing to it, that my life was spared. You are my angel also,” I said.
He looked at me thoughtfully. He kissed my hand. He looked back up at me.
“I had to do what I did. It was meant to be. I don’t think I could ever live without you now,” he added.
During Christmas Eve dinner I was the Belle of the ball. Holding my hand out, with my left wrist so limp and dainty, showing all of the ladies the gorgeous rock Emilio had put on my finger.
“I insist you two be married here at the Hacienda in June, Emilio,” Madre Francesca said.
“Of course my Madre,” Emilio said.
“Why not on the Equinox, Madre?” Serena intoned, smiling at me.
“That may be an idea. I know this is a wonderful Christmas gift to all of us,” Madre Francesca added.
Indeed Emilio and I were married on the Summer Equinox. We honeymooned in Acapulco. When I look back I am a very lucky girl that a man saw my photo on his father’s desk and went to his mother to appeal for my clemency. And then, his mother turned me from a bad boy into a hot, sexy girl.
Conclusion: Mistress of the Manor
My sister-in-law Serena and I have become so close. She’s still the only childless and unmarried of Madre Francesca’s children. Emilio and I have adopted a twin boy and girl that are almost one year old. I truly wish I could be a matchmaker for Serena but that might be difficult just yet.
So in the absence of being able to do that for Serena, I have decided to be a matchmaker for my maid, Celestine. I’ve known for some time that Roberto, my lovely, sweet hairdresser, has had a thing for Celestine. I’ve seen the way he acts around her every time I take her to the salon with me.
So one day, when Serena and I decided to go to the salon and have our hair trimmed and set I decided to take Celestine along. Not only did I require her to accompany me I decided that she was to get a perm. Did she want a perm? I don’t know as that didn’t really matter.
Because I am her Mistress and she is my maid, I can decide things like that for her. Besides, by having a perm put in by Roberto, Roberto could spend a lot of time with her. The last time I was in to the “Ladies Who Lunch” salon, Roberto had appealed to me.
“Madame Mariana Margarita. I know you are Celestine’s employer and Mistress. I am very fond of her. I would like to ask your permission to date her?” Roberto asked.
“Of course Roberto. And I will see to it that she says yes when you ask her,” I added.
Prior to us leaving for the salon I told her she must agree to go out with Roberto. Of course Roberto knew that Celestine was a “special” kind of girl.
“You need a man in your life, Celestine. I insist you agree to date him. And not just once. I think you should cultivate a relationship with Roberto,” I insisted.
“Yes Madame Mariana. I agree to do as you say, my Mistress,” Celestine agreed.
It was a relaxing day at the salon. Serena and I had our hair washed, conditioned, trimmed and we were given wet-sets on curlers. Then our tresses were covered in hairnets. While we set and chatted, we were served wine before we were given French Manicures.
I looked behind me at Celestine. She was under a hot dryer with her stacked perm wrapped and saturated with perm solution. I smiled and gave her a finger wave.
“Well, she appears to be enjoying her perm. She said she’d never had one. I thought it was about time,” I smiled.
“I always knew she was a sissy. It was only a matter of time. I think she’ll enjoy having a man in her life. I know I’ll never have a man in my life though I’d adore a female for a partner. My sister’s know, but I have to sneak around because I’m afraid to upset my parents,” Serena said.
“Serena. You’re a Lesbian? I had no idea. Does Emilio know?” I asked.
“Yes. But I haven’t been able to get him to appeal to my parents,” Serena said.
“But, your parents had no trouble with him marrying me?” I said.
“That’s the difference with a son and daughter in my family,” Serena replied.
“I will speak to him. I’ve never asked him for anything in our three years of marriage,” I added.
“You would do that for me, Mariana. Oh, thank you!” Serena replied.
“Out of curiosity to you have any perspective suitors for a long term relationship,” I asked.
“Yes I do. With my beauty and my wealth I have no lack of females interested in me,” Serena said.
When Serena’s driver dropped Celestine and I off at the Castillo, Serena came inside with me. Celestine went to her room.
“Come here my sister. I love you for agreeing to appeal to my brother,” Serena said, kissing me on the mouth.
“Of course, Serena. I will call you, and I promise Emilio will also. Now I must see what happened with Celestine and Roberto,” I smiled.
I walked to Celestine’s room. “May I come in? Well, did Roberto ask you out?” I asked.
“Yes Madame. He’s picking me up Friday evening at 6 PM,” Celestine said.
“I want you to make sure you pack a bag. In case he asks you to stay the weekend. Don’t look so surprised Celestine. He’s carried a torch for you for some time. You’re both ready for this. You have the weekend off. Spend it with Roberto. I don’t want to discuss it any further. That’s the last word. This discussion is closed, dear. You’re spending the entire weekend with Roberto,” I said, turning on my heels.
I then called Roberto. “She is ready to spend the weekend with you. After dinner ask her to come home with you and don’t take no for an answer,” I added.
“Yes Madame Mariana. Thank you!” Roberto said, very pleased. I suspected my Celestine was in for a very active weekend from a sexual standpoint.
I also wanted Celestine gone for the weekend as I wanted to work on my husband. Celestine looked very attractive as she waited for Roberto that Friday. She appeared nervous.
Of course she’d never been with a man before and likely not with too many women either. I’d have to guess I might be the only sissy she’d ever had a sexual liaison with.
“Just remember Celestine, my dear. Do everything possible to make your man happy, sexually. Don’t say no to anything. You are to consider Roberto your Master and he is in full control of you,” I intoned.
“Yes Madame Mariana. Thank you. Oh, here he is,” she said, turning to me. I gave her a hug, a kiss and squeezed her ass for good measure, before she walked out the door.
Emilio had been taking a nap and when he woke, I prepared a steak, potatoes, carrots and a salad for him, with Red Wine. The wine was of an excellent vintage and from Spain. After dinner he sat in his favorite chair sipping Scotch. When he set the glass down on the table next to his chair I sat in his lap and put my arms around his neck and kissed him.
“I have to ask you for something my darling,” I said as he nodded.
“I want to ask you to intercede with you parents so that your sister Serena does not have to sneak around with her lady lovers. Can you please do that?” I asked.
“I’ve been trying to avoid it. But you are correct. She shouldn’t have to hide her sexuality. My parents certainly accommodated me. I will speak to Madre Francesca first. She will speak to my Padre. As I am the heir to his throne as Don, I’m certain he’ll agree,” Emilio added.
“That is so wonderful, Emilio. May I thank you by sucking your cock and swallowing your semen?” I asked as I dropped to my knees and began to unbuckle his belt.
“Yes. If you would like to do that,” he smiled.
I pulled his underwear down to his ankles, along with his slacks. Then I removed his shoes, slacks and underwear completely. I took his lovely cock into my mouth and began to suck. I really didn’t have to work very hard to get him to explode into my mouth. It was like a fountain and I took every drop down my throat.
“Thank you for agreeing to help your sister, Emilio. Here. I’ll help you get your underwear and pants back on,” I smiled.
Sunday afternoon Celestine returned from her weekend with Roberto. They kissed passionately in Roberto’s car before she minced to the porch. When she got inside the house I noticed her walk looked to be very pleasure ridden. That told me all I needed to know.
The End
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