TG: Jack and Jill Ch 10 by Vickie Tern, femdom, wife, M/F, M/M 

Vickie Tern's stories are archived at 
http://library.gaycafe.com/nifty/transgender/
by_authors/Vickie_Tern

She appreciates any kinds of comment on any
of them,  and usually replies in kind.






If you shouldn't be reading this, don't!




Jack and Jill by Vickie Tern

10.  Chapter



Five minutes later I had poured Art a full tumbler of whisky and he had
emptied it down, by the simple device of telling him there was a naked
lady to be seen in the bottom of the glass when he had emptied it.  He
chugalugged, and I stood in front of him with my breasts pulled out of
their flimsy bra, so he could see me through the clear glass bottom of
the tumbler.  We both laughed uproariously at this little joke, and Art
reached for me.  "Later, hon, " I said.  "After we eat," and I tucked
myself back where I belonged.  Art was already sweating.

Jill and Sam came back out from the kitchen, and I was delighted to see
that Sam was visibly disturbed.  He seemed clubbed.  His shirt was a
little untucked, as if he'd hastily pushed it back into his pants.  So
he'd agreed, and his no-titties were now in a bra.  So far so good.
Jill followed, watching him closely, obviously concerned for him.  Sam
sat down abruptly on the couch.  Jill suddenly turned very bright, as
if she had flicked a switch.

She went over to Art and said to him, "Hi, I'm Jill.  We're going to
see a lot of each other I think, at least tonight we are!  Ready to
begin?"

"Sure," Art said.  He seemed a little confused, but willing to go
along.  He'd had two drinks before Jill got home, and the huge one I'd
just given him was beginning to reach his brain.

"Well, Art.  Before we go out to dinner, Jane and I want a little taste
of things to come.  Do you have anything like that?"

"Things to come?  Oh, yeah, cum.  I sure do, Jill.  Do you wanna see
it?"

Jill produced four large napkins.  "Oh no, Art.  Seeing's believing!
That comes later!  Right now Jane and I want to seat you and Sam side
by side, blindfolded, and we'll be blindfolded too, and we'll go down
on you guys.  OK?"

Art nodded, thinking no doubt that he'd really lucked out tonight.

"Only we'll none of us know which of us is doing who.  Then later on
we'll find out, by the way your cocks and our mouths feel, and by whose
cum tastes more familiar.  It's a game.  Wanna play?"

"You bet," Art said, lifting his bulk out of his chair, walking over,
and settling himself in a chair next to the couch where Sam was
sitting.

Jill handed me two napkins and told me to cover Sam's eyes and then
mine.  I went over and blindfolded Sam.  Jill waited a moment, so Art
could see Sam with his eyes covered, and me tieing a blindfold over my
own eyes.  Then she blindfolded Art.  "All secure?" she asked.  "Can't
see a thing," Art replied.

Sam took his blindfold off and looked miserable, and I set mine aside
too.  "All right," Jill said, "Now none of us can see.  Why don't you
two men stand up and change places, or maybe not, so we won't know
who's where." Sam stood up abruptly, then sat down again in place.  Art
stood, shuffled tentatively, felt that Sam was still where he had been,
and sat down again.  "Now, Jane, out with his meat.  Whoever you're in
front of."

"You bet," I said.  I sat down on the couch to watch.  Jill unzipped
Art's fly, and with her long, smooth hand with their lovely tapered
fingernails, she worked Art's cock out until it stood tall out of his
trousers.  Art could feel it was a woman's hand, and he swelled up to
gigantic size.  I'd seen one or two bigger, of course, and Jill and Sam
had seen to it that I'd fucked bigger, quite a few times in fact.  But
Art was up there in competition with the best, and I saw he'd do very
well for Sam's deflowering, Sam's emasculation in Jill's eyes.  I
grinned, and almost laughed out loud.  Art's prick could have been the
model for that monstrous dildo Jill and I had forced up each of us so
often.  It was like a baseball bat in shape and thickness, with a huge
purple cock head.  Sam's eyes bugged out.

"And now out with the other fella's meat," Jill said.  "Is it out?"
"Oh, yes," I replied.  "Boy is this guy hung!" I was delighted to see
this scheme of Jill's working so well.

"Now, gentlemen, the ladies want to take their pleasure.  We just don't
know which lady or which pleasure, that's all.  From now on, no hands!"
Jill stood and touched Sam on his shoulder.  He slumped out of his
chair and fell to his knees between Arts legs.  Jill silently opened
her mouth wide, hid her teeth behind her lips, and motioned to Sam to
do the same.  Sam fixed his eyes on her, looking pitiable.  It was
obvious that Jill was going to direct him through the whole exercise.
This was better than my first session with Tom, when my mouth first
lost its cherry, many cocks ago.  My masculine pride never really did
recover, and I hoped the same for Sam.

Jill licked the tip of her thumb.  Sam leaned forward and touched his
tongue to Art's huge cock head, right where a drop of pre-cum had
appeared.  She swirled her tongue around her thumb tip.  Sam swirled
his tongue.  Art leaned back slightly, feeling pleasurably serviced.
Then Jill plunged her mouth all the way around the first joint of her
thumb, and up and down two or three times.  Sam looked pathetically
desperate, and a wild look came into his eye.  He opened his mouth to
its utmost and took in the whole of Art's cockhead, to just below the
ridge.  He looked over at Jill, and it was obvious his mouth was
straining full.  There was no way he could slide his head up and down.
Jill signalled he should begin to suck, and while sucking hold Art's
cockhead firmly in his mouth, and pump the whole shaft up and down with
his head.  So he did.  Art's cock grew more in Sam's mouth, and it
wasn't clear that Sam could ever get his mouth off it again.  Jill made
an exaggerated tongue motion, and somewhere in his mouth Sam did the
same, still pumping.  Art let out a groan.

Jill then removed her mouth from her thumb and made some elaborate
licking motions up and down the whole extended thumb, and licked the
joint at the base of her thumb, then up its length.  So did Sam, for a
while.  Then Sam returned on his own to sucking Art's prick, but this
time he angled his neck to take more in, far into the back of his
throat.  Art started twisting his hips, and soon the two of them had
set up a powerful rhythm, Art fucking Sam's face in and out while Sam
bobbed his head over Art's prick, like a big bird in a garden full of
worms.  Faster they went, until finally Art hoisted his pelvis all the
way out of the chair and into Sam's face, and shouted "Now!  Now!  Now!
Now!  Swallow it, Bitch!  Swallow it, Bitch!  Swallow it, Bitch!" The
Bitch in question did his best, but couldn't get it all.  His Adam's
Apple worked furiously -- he swallowed over and over, but slick cloudy
ooze began to come out of the corners of his mouth, just as I'd hoped.
Then he lost his grip on the head of Art's cock, probably because it
had gotten too slick, and the last few pulses hit him full in his face
and hair.  So there he was, his nose and face dripping cum, eyes tight
shut, his mouth still twisted wide open as if his jaw had unhinged and
he couldn't close it, his face a mask of tragedy.  Jill was watching
him with concern, but also with disgust.  Her mouth was set rather
tight.

"How can he help but want to be a woman now that his mouth has tasted
cum," I said quietly to Jill.  "Do you think he's ready to slurp jism
twenty times a night, the way I can?  Do you think he'll make a good
slut?"

Art must have heard the last word or two.  "She's a terrific slut," he
said.  "That was the best head I've had in years.  Lots of girls can't
handle a prick like mine.  Now who was it?  Jill?  Jane?" He started to
take off his blindfold.

Jill stopped him.  "No," she said in a throaty voice.  "More!  I"m hot!
I want more!  Give it to me baby!  Up the ass!  Are you man enough?
Here, Art, put your finger in my ass.  I can't wait for you to get hard
again!  Oh, yeah!" She looked a little disgusted with herself,
producing that cornball slut talk.  But her instincts were unerring.
Art bought it all, and leaned back.  She produced a tube of jelly and
motioned to Sam to drop his pants.  He did, and his underwear, and Jill
immediately saw a problem.  He had the hairiest backside I have ever
seen.  But Jill improvised brilliantly.  "Yeah, grease that place
between my smooth, ripe melons," she said to Art, and loaded his
forefinger with jelly, and lowered her panties, and backed over his
crotch, and crouched down so he could feel her rear.  He began running
his hands over her cheeks, which I must say I have always admired,
usually from a distance, and he started trying to insert his huge tube,
which had never gone all the way down and was now re-inflating.  "No,
grease me up first, or a great big cock like yours'll tear up my little
love-hole," she said.  This information she directed pointedly to Sam,
with a warning expression on her face.  She filled three fingers with
jelly, and beckoned to him.  He understood.  He backed toward her and
bent way over, his face now fearful.

"I gotcha, sweetbuns, first the coming attractions, then the main
event," Art said, working his jellied forefinger into Jill while
caressing her smooth, ripe melons.  This was far better than I'd hoped.
A daisy chain of finger-fuckers!  Aa Art invaded her she winced, but
kept her mind on her job, which was working three fingers into Sam,
whose anal opening was obviously rigid and in spasm.  With her long
fingernails she didn't dare force anything.  So as Art warmed to his
work and began to finger fuck Jill's hole, slow at first then faster
and faster, his prick still rising toward its former glory, she slapped
Sam on a hairy cheek and said "Relax, you son of a bitch, or you're
surely gonna regret it!" Sam gritted his teeth, and lowered his
eyebrows, and Jill got a finger into him.  A minute later a second
finger.  She fucked him with these two for a while, and he kept his
eyes closed as if he were somewhere else.  Finally she got a third in,
and pulled out, and regreased, and re-inserted, and worked all three
into Sam as deep as she could.

"Now, baby?" Art asked.  Jill obviously wanted to get Art's finger out
of her butt.  "Now, baby!" she replied.  She stepped forward and Art
lost his purchase on her.  Then she deftly twisted, filled her palm
with jelly and slathered it all over Art's monster cock, now fully
grown again.  She then took Sam by the shoulders and backed him into
her former space over Art's shaft.  Then she pushed Sam's hips down so
his slippery anus was pressing onto the head of Art's slippery prick.
"You're on your own now babe," she told Sam.  "Then here I come at
you," Art replied.  Art grabbed Sam's hips to hold them steady, and
thrust full force at the anus he could feel between the cheeks he could
feel through the layers of jelly.

"AAAaaaoooOOOOOhhh!" Sam shrieked in the highest falsetto I have ever
heard from any man's throat.  His maidenhead had gone into memory, in a
single soprano outcry!  He was obviously in great pain, but physical or
mental I couldn't tell.  "You like it, huh?" Art replied, "Well there's
more where that came from." He started pumping, and with each pump
added another inch of his cock to the massive meat Sam's ass had
already swallowed, until finally he was all the way in.  Sam then
reminded me of Jill when she had first gotten that whole massive dildo
into her pussy.  He crouched over Art's lap, rigid, not daring to move,
impaled in a kind of catatonic stupor, while Art pumped away at him
from below.  I watched fascinated.  Jill had trained me for months to
survive what Sam was undergoing in minutes, and was feeling inside
himself right now.  I'd taken some monsters, and knew what could
happen.  Sure enough.  As his pain subsided, Sam's dick started to
rise, and as it got more and more erect he grasped it with one hand and
started to stroke it, obviously unaware of what he was doing, because
his ass also began to move back onto Art in the same rhythm Art was
using on him.  Sam's prostate and all those internal nerve endings
squeezed deliciously against Art's meat, and betrayed him.  He moved
faster and faster with Art, and finally they both came together in a
crescendo, Sam spurting into the air and our carpet, Art unloading deep
into Sam's bowel while shouting, "Take it, bitch, Oaghh, take it,
bitch, Oaghh!" over and over.  Jill watched the two of them with
loathing.  I burst out laughing!  Here was yet another man who had
given up his mouth's and his asshole's virginity for the love of Jill!
I wondered if we should form a club.  Art's penis softened a little and
he pulled it out of Sam's ass with a "POP" sound.  Cum dribbled after.

Art then took off his blindfold and saw Sam's ass, and puzzled, looked
around it to see Sam's face, cum from the earlier encounter still
oozing from the corners of his mouth, his face and hair still sticky.
"Sam!" said Art.  "What're you doing there?  Did you set this up?  Are
you a faggot?  You really like eating my cock?  You really wanted me to
fuck you?  Hey hey!" And Art grappled with this information.  It was
hard to tell from the numb expression on his face whether he was next
going to kiss Sam or deck him.  Maybe both.

Sam started to stand up, but Art held him in his crouch.  "No, Sam,
we're not done.  Now I know you like cock, we're going to have some
great old times together.  Some days in that office I just have to beat
off, maybe two or three times a day, just to keep my mind on my work
and off the secretaries.  The way harassment cases go these days, I
can't propose anything to a secretary, I bet not even marriage!  But
you know what I want, Sam!  And all this time you wanted to give it to
me!  Now when I get a boner I'll know who to call to take care of me.
Sam!  I think this is terrific!"

A sly grin came over his face.  "Tell me Sam, are you a real Queen?"
Art felt through Sam's shirt and found the lines of his brassiere.
"Oh, Sam, you're a queen all right!" Suddenly he looked up at Jill.
"But he's your boy friend, too, isn't he.  And there you were, setting
things up for him.  Well, that's love.  I can respect that!  Can we
share him?"

Jill watched this whole scene white-faced, her mouth still tight.  It
was obvious she had not wanted to see what she had seen, nor to hear
any of this.  And it was obvious that despite everything she knew about
duress, and rape, and victimization, Sam her all-man romantic companion
and future husband was changing in her mind at that moment into one
more potential pansy in pants, who got off by thrusting his asshole
repeatedly onto the first cock to enter it.

Then came the capper.  "Don't get up, Sam," Art said to him with just a
hint of threat.  "You shouldn't have tried to fool me.  Now let's do it
right!  Here!" And Art took Sam's head in his two huge paws and turned
Sam around, and forced him back onto his knees, and began to rub his
face on his crotch.  His monster penis hadn't lost all its erection,
and Art said to the creature between his knees, "There, there, Sammie
girl, suck on it.  Lick it.  Clean me up.  It's a reasonable size now.
I bet you can handle it.  I bet you can deep throat all of it.  Try!"

So Sam started in again, bobbing his head.  Jill went into the kitchen,
unable to watch.  I went in with her, and sat down at the table and
signed my whole former life over to her, just as I'd promised I would.

Now I was legally and officially a woman named Jane.  Jack no longer
existed.  I'd even proved, I realized, that I could be as bitchy as the
next woman if sufficiently provoked.  I really was Jill's creation!
And now, I realized, I didn't mind at all!  Despite everything, she'd
done me a favour.  I freshened my makeup and said to her, "Well, Jill.
You were right!  That took exactly thirty-five minutes.  Now if we can
unplaster Sam from Art and clean him up, shall we go to dinner?"

The next week she and Sam quit their respective firms and left town
together.  Maybe they're still together, though whether they're each
still the same gender is anyone's guess.  Jill always had the balls in
our relationship, and maybe in her relationship with Sam too.  She
didn't have to talk anyone into getting castrated.  She just went ahead
and did it to them in her own way!

But as far as we were concerned, Jill had the last word.  I'm still
pretty much the way she made me and left me.  There aren't many men who
want to date me, though I present well as a woman -- in fact I'm rather
pretty, and I know how to dress well and enjoy it, and how to satisfy
men sexually.  But that's still not enough.  As I said when I began
this whole long tale, I prefer girls.  But there aren't many who want
me for anything other than a friend.  I have some very dear
girlfriends, and I love them, and they love me, but there's no romance
between us.  Some feeling has returned to my penis, but that hormone
bath did short-circuit my erections.  I get them, sort of, but they're
soft, and it's a rare girl who'll take a chance that I can get firm
enough to fuck her.  So instead, until I find that special someone
who'll love me the way I am, I date men, and they play with my titties,
and that feels as wonderful as ever, and I'm fucked.

When Jill left town she sent me a checkbook for one of our joint bank
accounts with some money in it, enough to help me get by as it turned
out.  And she sent me a note telling me that I'm now a lot better off
than when she first met me.  True enough.  She said she was glad she
had feminized me, and hoped I didn't resent it.  I don't.  And she
finished by asking, "No hard feelings, right?".  Nope, none.

                              ************