My Life At Queen Mary's

by Little Sissy Tippytoes

      "Queen Mary, she's my friend;
       Yes, I believe I'll go see her again."
                                         Bob Dylan
                                         "Just Like A Woman"

AUTHOR'S PREFACE  

   My first encounter with a full-fledged drag queen occurred enough
years ago that I do not care to reveal exactly how many. It was a
disturbing encounter, in more ways than one. I was a young soldier
in the Army, recently graduated from basic training and now serving  
as a supply clerk at Fort Myer, Virginia, a few miles south of
Washington, DC.

   As is true of young soldiers everywhere, I hung out with a bunch of
guys from my platoon, since those were the people I spent most of my time 
with, and felt closest to, aside from my folks back home. It seemed
that the goal in life of all the guys in my barracks - again, like
most soldiers everywhere - was to earn weekend passes, so we could
go off-base and let what little hair we possessed down. In our case,
we liked to go into DC, to drink in all the bars where young secretaries
or college girls congregated. Of course, we never wore our uniforms;
but, even in those short-hair days, I'm sure our haircuts identified
us as GI's. It didn't matter. We were for the most part too shy and
too awkward to hit on most of the girls we met, anyway; but, we liked       
being around them, so we continued to go to the clubs where they hung out.

   One night, however, one of the guys said he had an interesting
place he wanted to show us. So, about five of us piled into his car
(some of us lowly GI's actually did own cars!) and, with a couple
of six-packs, picked up at an off-base package store, safely stowed on
the floor in the back seat, we set off for this mysterious place our
barrack-mate had planned for us to visit.

   It turned out to be a club, located at 14th and Irving Sts. in
Northwest DC, called "Bob-In." I remember thinking at the time that
it should have been called "Bob's Inn," or something like that. But,
I don't recall seeing any burned out tubes on the neon lights over
the front door of the place; and, I definitely recall the name "Bob-In."
Perhaps it was more years ago than my memory can accurately handle.

   Anyway, after we parked the car, the five of us sauntered
into the club, and found a table near the bar. Once our eyes had
adjusted to the dim lighting, we began to notice something odd. There
seemed to be only guys in the place. Somewhat puzzled, we asked our
buddy, the one who'd brought us there, what the hell was going on.
"Can't you figure it out?" he asked. Slowly, depending on the extent of
our own individual naivete, the lightbulbs began to click on in our 
brains. This was what, in those days before "gay" meant something other 
than "jolly" or "merry," was known as a "queer" bar. 

   Well, we were all pretty steamed. "Hey, what's the deal?" we all
protested. "We ain't interested in this shit! Let's go over to 
"Maggie's" at Tenley Circle and check out the chicks!"  

   But, our host merely put his index finger across his lips and
said, "Sshh. You ain't seen the good part, yet."

   Sure enough, about a half-hour later, as we were just getting
started on our second pitcher of draft, the door opened and in walked
these two "ladies." Even rubes off the farm like us, even rubes
off the farm who were working on a Friday night drunk, could tell 
that these two "ladies" were not female. No way. Our eyes were
bulging so far out of their sockets, they looked like saucers. The two
drag queens swished by us without a word, without even a glance, as 
I recall, and our disbelieving eyes followed their sashay until the
guy who'd brought us said, in a stage-whisper, "Quit staring, you
guys! Somebody might take offense!"

   A little chagrined, we returned to our pitcher. But, for the next
hour or so, until we'd finished the beer, we stole sidelong glances
at these two alien - to us, anyway - creatures, unable to believe such 
people existed.

   It was such an unnerving experience, we all decided to visit the
"Bob-In" the following Friday night, to confirm that what we had seen
the previous Friday actually had occurred. Sure enough, these same
two drag queens appeared in the entrance, and slowly paraded the
length of the bar, swishing and sashaying, and looking over the
clientele as though they were queens inspecting their royal guard,
or, more likely, the local peasantry. And again, we were rendered 
speechless, completely amazed by their self-confident, assertive 
brashness.

   This night, we had finished two pitchers before the two queens
put in their appearance. Shortly after they had arrived and performed
their promenade from the entrance to the back of the room, and we had
all stared in wonder and disbelief, just as we had the week before,
I realized I had to relieve myself. So, I got up and headed for the
restroom. When I opened the door, I was shocked to discover one of
the drag queens was in there, bent over the sink, fixing - his? her? -
her makeup. She was a short, thin Negro with beautifully clear chocolate
skin, and heavily processed hair, either that, or a carefully styled, 
high-quality wig. I'm not certain breast augmentation surgery was being 
performed routinely yet for men who desired to become women. Sex
reassignment surgery was not even a topic in the news at that time. But,
I remember this person had what appeared to be breasts, and they were
perfectly proportioned to her body. Except for the baritone voice
and the exaggerated mannerisms, she might have been able to pass as
a woman in any environment. As I stood there, doorknob in hand, staring
at her, my mouth wide open, my jaw dropped down to my chest, I
realized that, by any measure of the word, she was gorgeous. She
simply looked at me in the mirror; then, smiling this spectacular smile,
turned her head and said, in a husky voice, "Just give me a couple
of minutes, Sugar. I got me a date, and I gotta look good, baby."

   With that, she went back to work on her face. My mouth sort
of flapped up and down, but no sound came out. I just backed out the
door, and waited outside, hands trembling, face bathed in a cold sweat.
Finally, she emerged from the toilet, gave me a wink and a smile,
and swished off to join her "date." The encounter probably lasted
no longer than 30 seconds. I proceeded to do my business and return
to my table, where I begged the guys to pack up and leave.

   We never returned to "Bob-In," or at least I never did, anyway.
I was thoroughly shaken by the brief scene which had occurred in
the men's room with what, in retrospect, I realize now was a lovely,
well-turned-out drag queen. I'm not sure if she was a prostitute
and the "date" was actually a customer, or if she actually had
a male lover. Whichever it was, this person was excited and hopeful,
like anyone getting ready for a date would be.

   For a long time I buried my memory of that experience until, at a point
several years later, I found myself in a relationship that was rapidly,
disastrously, dissolving. I had learned she was carrying on an affair
behind my back, and this knowledge made it nearly impossible for me
to become sexually aroused by her. I was just too angry to maintain
any interest in her. I contented myself, as many sexually frustrated,
celibate-against-their-wishes-men do; I masturbated. But I noticed
that my masturbation fantasies were beginning to take a strange turn.
I would envision myself dressed as a woman, being undressed by a handsome,
well-endowed man (me) and, stripped to just my garterbelt and stockings,
being ravished until I would at last erupt in a truly mind-blowing
orgasm. One afternoon, as I was experiencing this fantasy for the
umpteenth time, I was shocked to discover the female me no longer looked
like me, but had suddenly become the drag queen I had encountered so
long ago at "Bob-In." Needless to say, I was quite upset by this whole
weird scene.

   But the fantasy persisted. I began picturing myself in stockings and
garterbelt until, no longer able to resist the pull of the forbidden,
I visited a Frederick's Of Hollywood at a nearby mall, and purchased
these items, along with a battery-operated, penis-shaped vibrator.
I took my purchases home, went into my bedroom, and stripped naked. 
I put on the garterbelt; the feel of the garter straps against my
naked thighs produced an instant erection. I was sweating, nervous and
apprehensive about what I was doing. But, I persisted. With shaking   
hands, I pulled the stockings up my legs, discovering the unbelievably
sensual feel of the shimmery nylon against them. I was nearly crying,
I was so aroused. I lay on the bed and took the vibrator in my hand.
I smeared some Vaseline jelly over it, and then, raising my nylon-clad
legs off the bed, and spreading and bending them, I proceeded to 
introduce the vibrator to my ass.    

   Never, ever had I done anything like this before in my life. I was
so nervous I was shivering. My body was covered with goosebumps. Slowly,
with lip-quivering anxiety, I pushed the vibrator into my rectum. It
hurt like hell, and I immediately lost my erection. But, I persisted,
and finally it was seated all the way. I flipped the switch at its 
base, and instantly, it began to hum and vibrate inside me, tickling
my prostate. My erection began to return, and I aided it along with
excited manipulations. Finally, openly sobbing by now in the realization
that I was a "queer," and my soul was lost forever, I came. Huge spurts
of hot, milk-white sperm splattered over my chest. I thought it would
go on forever. But, it finally ended, and I turned off the vibrator,
and pulled it ever so slowly out of my ass. I lay there on the bed
totally spent, scooping my cum onto my finger and then licking it off.
It tasted salty. I wanted to vomit. Instead, I began to weep and I lay
there sobbing until at long last I cried myself to sleep.

   Was I "queer?" If I was, I didn't want to know it. I avoided any and
all sexual stimuli for the next several weeks. But there was no avoiding
the power of my unconscious. Night after night the image of that 
drag queen in the bathroom at "Bob-In" haunted my dreams, until, once
again unable to resist its lure, I succumbed to temptation and had
another "session" in my bedroom.

   After that, I decided to explore the possibility that I myself might
have transvestite tendencies. I began wearing panties and pantyhose
under my trousers. I even wore them to work. Finally, I got up the
nerve to try dressing up all the way. I went to a local store where I
purchased a dress, a "gift for the wife," as I told the clerk. I hoped
the size was right. I would be too embarrassed to return it if it 
weren't. I also purchased a pair of high-heels, and a slip. Then,
stopping at a drugstore on the way home from the mall, I bought some
lipstick and rouge. 

   I got all my purchases home, and, trembling all over in nervous
anticipation, went into the bathroom to shower and prepare myself for
my "coming out." I even shaved my legs, for the first time ever.
I then went into my bedroom and put on my panties, garterbelt and
stockings. These were familiar friends by now, and I felt comforted
by their touch against my naked skin. The stockings especially felt
wonderful against my shaved legs - what a difference removing my
leg hair made!

   Then, I carefully put on the slip and the dress (it fit!), and stepped
into the shoes (they fit, too! Good guess!). I went back into the bathroom
where I carefully applied a little rouge and lipstick. Then, I walked
into the living room, trying to sway my hips the way women do. I walked
around awhile, then tried sitting down and crossing my legs, the feel
of the skirt against my nylon-encased legs definitely interesting. 
Then, I walked down the hall and into my bedroom where I stopped before
the full-length mirror attached to my closet door. I took one look at
myself in the mirror, and burst out laughing. Boy, did I look ridiculous!
I felt stupid and silly. Quickly, I tore off the dress and slip and
shoes, tossed them in a garbage bag, and, after removing my makeup and
putting on my regular clothes, took the bag out to the dumpster where I
threw it away without a second thought.

   I eventually got rid of the garterbelt, stockings and panties, too.
But I never got rid of the haunting image of that captivating      
drag queen I had encountered so long ago. Once in a while, just for
fun, I'll conjure up her image and treat myself to a great        
self-administered orgasm.

   But, I don't wear ladies' undies anymore. Perhaps I've just grown
too old and tired for that kind of forbidden excitement. I know I would
be greatly embarrassed if my wife ever caught me playing such games.

   I'll never forget those incredible orgasms I would have in my bedroom,
my vibrator humming gaily away in my asshole. And I'll always remember
that little queen with the great big smile I met so many years ago.

   Long may her flag wave.

LST

                            * * * * *

   I'm sitting here talking to the attorney they've assigned to me,
trying to make him understand all that has happened to me in the past
six months. But it's hard, because I'm not even sure I understand it
very well, myself.

   I know how it started, though. God, what a nightmare that was. I
had met Sandy at a downtown bar called Vinnie's. A bunch of us guys
had signed out to go off-base after dinner. One of my barracks mates,
Chuck Simmons, owned a beat up old '61 Fairlane, and he had said
he was going into DC because, "Tonight's the night I'm gonna dip the
wick! Payday's gonna bring the payoff! Yessirree!"

   So four of us piled into Chuck's car and headed off down Arlington
Boulevard into the city, making a little detour at a 7-11 to pick up
a couple of six-packs to make the ride a little more enjoyable.
Before long we were crossing Key Bridge and heading into Georgetown.
But that wasn't our destination. That was where all the rich college
kids hung out, and we were just a bunch of young GIs, too poor and
too low-class to try mixing with them. No, we were headed downtown
to 14th St., where all the working class kids went to dance the
twist at Benny's Rebel Room, or drink endless pitchers of beer while
enjoying a pizza at Vinnie's. 

   That's what we did that night, went to Vinnie's. The line was too
long trying to get into Benny's, and we wanted to find some girls 
fast. DC had a midnight curfew on alcohol and we didn't want to waste
one single minute standing in a line outside a bar that was actually
more expensive to drink at than the Georgetown hangouts we had passed
by. 

   So there we were in Vinnie's, sucking down the pizza, waving our
schooners and singing "Volare" at the top of our voices, when in walked
Sandy with three other girls. You know that scene in "West Side Story"
where Tony and Maria meet for the first time at the dance at the      
settlement house? And everything but them is sort of blurred into a 
hazy shadow? Well, that's what it was like for me when I first laid
eyes on Sandy. It was like the whole world disappeared and there was
nothing else and no one else but her.

   One of the guys stood up and, bold from the beer, invited the girls
over to join us. For one heartstopping moment, I thought they were
going to put their noses in the air, turn around, and walk right back
out the door. But, miracle of miracles! They came right over and stood
waiting while we scurried about locating empty chairs to set around the
table for them. And then, oh, sing my heart! Sandy took the chair next
to me! I was so nervous I nearly dropped my pizza and spilled my beer.
But I managed to pretend an outward calm, and introduced myself, even
remembering to wipe my pizza-sauce smeared hand clean before taking
hers in one of those nerve-wracking handshakes where you don't want
to squeeze too hard for fear of making her think you're a brute, but
you don't want it to be too soggy, either, or she'll think you're a wimp.
So, you just sort of shake her hand up and down, and hope for the best.

   Evidently, my best was pretty good, because before you could snap
your finger, we were having a great conversation, with lots of laughter,
and I found out she wasn't dating (how could such a beauty not be 
taken?), and she was a secretary in a Government agency, and she had 
been recruited while she was in high school in Johnstown, PA. The whole  
time we sat there, I pretended to be just as cool as could be, but I can 
remember my feet wouldn't stay still, and sort of danced up and down the 
entire evening. Sandy discovered that I didn't have wheels, which was a 
big handicap for me, since that meant either I would have to arrange a
double date, or we would have to take a bus (what a damper that idea
was!) if we were going to see one another. But, then I found out one
of her roommates had a car, and didn't mind loaning it to Sandy once
in a while. Terrific!

   So we were able to begin a relationship. She didn't mind at all that
I was a broke and lonesome GI soldier-boy from Kansas. That surprised
me, actually, because I figured girls who came to DC to work were
looking for husbands who had the potential of being bigshot government
officials somewhere down the line. Her response, after she got over
laughing, was, "Hey! I'm only eighteen years old! I want to have some
good times before I start planning the rest of my life!" She was truly
the answer to my dreams.

   And we did have some great times. We would visit museums, which were
free. We would go to the movies, which were inexpensive. We would buy
dinner at a hotdog stand. Ours was a very affordable romance. But,
there was a dark cloud in the middle of it all, and it loomed ever 
larger the deeper our relationship became. The cloud, of course, was
sex. I wanted it. She would tolerate a semblance of it. I wanted to
go all the way. She wasn't even willing to take the first step.   

   We would sit in movie theaters, my arm draped over the back of her
seat until it began to get tingly and numb. At a strategic moment in
the movie, usually when she was engrossed with the action on the screen,
my hand would snake down over her shoulder and come to rest on her
breast. Ever so gently, she would place her hand over mine, then
nudge it away from her breast. I would sit there, saying nothing, tears
of frustration forming in my eyes. When we would sit in her roommate's
car, parked at the curb outside her apartment building, I would try
unbuttoning a couple buttons of her blouse. If I couldn't feel her
breasts, hopefully I might at least get a glimpse of her cleavage.
No soap. She would squirm, mutter "No," and push me away while she
buttoned herself back up.

   My campaign of attack at the other end was just as fruitless. Once,
I actually was able to slide my hand all the way up her skirt to the
top of her stockings. We were kissing, and my tongue was in her mouth.
She bit down so hard on it, I thought she was going to draw blood.
I was gasping and moaning, but she wouldn't let go. Finally, I got the
point, and pulled my hand out from under her skirt. As soon as my
hand hit the cool air, she let go of my tongue. I could barely speak,
and couldn't taste anything the rest of the weekend.

   Needless to say, I was totally frustrated. And blue. I was getting
nowhere, and my horniness was beginning to affect me. I even started
whacking off in the shower, a dangerous thing to do, as the other
guys would laugh at me if they caught me. I almost didn't care, to
tell the truth.

   Finally, I guess I'd had enough. I began inventing excuses for not
going into town on weekend pass. And I found ways to avoid returning
Sandy's calls. I didn't have the courage to confront her with my
frustrations; I reasoned she probably already knew, and didn't care.
Eventually, I started hanging out at the on-base beer hall, a sort
of dive for the social misfits who had nothing better to do. I would
drink myself into a near-stupor, then stagger back to the barracks,
where I would collapse into my bunk and sleep until reveille formation
the next morning. I would stand in the formation, barely aware of what
was going on, hoping someone would simply guide me to the latrine
so I could stick my head under the faucet and wash the cobwebs out of
my brain in time to make it to breakfast.

                          * * * * *

   One evening, just after the day's training had finished and Retreat
had been sounded, bringing to a close the business of the day, Chuck
and another friend, Alvin (Big Al), stopped me on the way back to
the barracks. They fell in, one guy on either side of me, and Chuck
threw his arm around my neck. "Hey, podner," he exclaimed, "Long time,
no see. Where you been keepin' yourself?"

   "Oh, around," I mumbled.

   "You and Sandy quits?" he asked.

   "Yeh, I guess so," I said. "I just get too frustrated when I'm with
her. Y'know?"

   "Man, I know just how you feel. I had the same experience with her
roommate, Betty."

   "The one with the huge bazooms?"

   Big Al laughed.

   Chuck said, in a low, confidential tone, "Lemme ask ya something,
Stevie. What the hell is the point of having big tits if you ain't ever
gonna let anybody touch 'em, or even look at 'em?"

   Big Al continued laughing.

   My face took on a pained expression. Chuck looked at me sympathetically.
"I see you know what I mean, little fella," he said. "You've been put
through the same wringer, huh?"

   I looked at the ground. "It got so bad I just couldn't go back there
anymore. I was afraid I was going to end up doing something stupid,
like raping her or something."

   He patted my shoulder, and we walked some more in silence. Then, all
of a sudden, he poked me in the ribs with his other hand. "Hey!" he
shouted. "You ever had your cock sucked before?"

   I stopped dead in my tracks. I looked at him as though I were looking
at a Martian. "Whaaat?" 

   Big Al laughed again. Chuck leaned over until his mouth was almost
wrapped around my ear. Very softly, he said, "You heard me, short buddy. 
Have you ever had your cock sucked?"

   "No, I can't say I have. So what?" I retorted.

   "Me and Big Al here know a place where you can get it done. And I mean
by a real pro."

   I was curious, but I didn't want to betray myself, so I acted sort of
detached and cool. "Oh, yeh? Like I said, so what?"

   He stared right into my eyes. "Whaddya mean, so what? C'mon. Ain't 
you even a little bit curious to find out more?"

   "Listen," I said, "I can't even get Sandy to let me play with her tits,
let alone have her do something like that. So, the answer to your question
is, 'No, I've never had my cock sucked.' OK? And I'm not too curious to
find out more, either."      

   Liar.

   Chuck took a step back. He nudged Al, and said, "Listen to this, Big
Al. There's a guy here among us who ain't interested in bein' an
All-American one-hunnerd-percent male. You ever hear of any guy who didn't
want a blowjob?"

   Al laughed again. "Even queers want blowjobs, man," he said.

   I had to laugh at this comment, stupid as it was. "Ok, ok," I said.
"So where are these babes, and how much do they charge?"

   Chuck threw his arms out wide. "That's the beauty of it, little guy.
The chicks I'm talkin' about practically give it away. I'm tellin' ya.
You gotta see it to believe it."

   Al said, "Yeh, we're gonna go meet 'em after dinner. Wanna come along?"

   My big prospect for the evening was a movie and another sloshing drunk
at the beer hall. "Ok, what the hell," I said. "I'll go with you."

   Both men slapped me on the back, and we continued on to the mess hall,
where we ate dinner with a hundred and fifty of our most intimate friends,
then went back to the barracks to shower and change into civvies for our
big night on the town.

   Once again, there we were in Chuck's car, tooling down Arlington 
Boulevard, two sixpacks on the rear seat under my tender loving care,
heading for the bright lights of downtown Washington. We took the 
Whitehurst Freeway past Georgetown, then headed down K Street for 14th
Street. Only, when we got to 14th Street, instead of parking at the
downtown clubs, Chuck turned left and headed uptown. We drove several
blocks until we had left the downtown part of 14th Street behind us. Now,
we were entering that part of 14th Street that divided black and white
DC. On one side were neighborhoods that were primarily Negro, filled with
rowhouses converted into apartments, and small businesses, and liquor
stores and nightclubs. On the other side were primarily white-owned
apartment buildings whose occupants pointed their interests in the
direction of upscale 16th Street, lined by single-family houses and 
churches and embassies. For a young white boy from semi-rural Kansas, it 
was an eerie experience to see real segregation in person.

   The club we were headed for was located on the black side of 14th
Street, on U Street, in the middle of the block between 13th and 
14th Streets. It was called Queen Mary's, and it had very little to 
recommend itself to outsiders. It looked as though it had been built
into a storefront which once might have housed a small business, 
perhaps a drycleaner or a repair shop of some sort. It was narrow, not
at all like a nightclub would look. But it was also very deep, extending
from the street perhaps a good two hundred feet. Just inside the          
entrance, on the right side, was a bar that accommodated about a dozen
stools. Behind the bar was a short, thin Negro man wearing a white
apron who I assumed was the bartender. In those days in DC, there was
some sort of ordinance that required anyone drinking an alcoholic
beverage to be seated. You couldn't even carry your drink around, but
had to have a waiter or waitress do that for you. So all bars had to
have stools. Stupid, huh?

   On the left side of the entrance was an area in which there were a
few tables, each of which could accommodate four people. Beyond the
tables, against the wall, were booths for four, extending all the way
along the wall to an open area in the rear of the club which was where
people could dance. Against the back wall was a jukebox, which, as Chuck,
Al and I entered, was blaring away. I think it was either Otis Redding 
or James Brown singing. The volume on the jukebox was turned up so loud
we couldn't hear any conversation, even though we noticed, as our eyes
grew accustomed to the dim, smoky interior, that the place was pretty 
full.

   At the entrance, we were met by an enormous black man, who must have
been at least six-feet three, and built like an NFL football lineman.
His skin was of that deep black color, almost shiny black, that hinted
of a shade of dark purple. He evidently was the maitre d', or the bouncer,
or something like that.

   Chuck and Al greeted him warmly. "Hey, Teddy, how's it hangin'?" They
shook his hand and patted his shoulder and joked with him for a minute
or two. Then, they both turned to face me, and Chuck said, "Hey, Teddy,
we want you to meet our little buddy, Stevie. He's the guy we been
telling you about."

   Teddy, who towered over my five-foot, eight-inch slender frame, had a
surprisingly gentle voice for such a large person. He took my hand in
his, and it was warm and almost soft, and said to Chuck, "I'm pleased
you finally brought him along, my friend." Then, turning to look directly
in my eyes, he said to me, "Welcome to Queen Mary's. I hope you enjoy
yourself tonight. Perhaps we shall become good friends."

   His English was not at all like that spoken by the Negro GIs in my
outfit, guys who had been drafted off the farm or out of the tough
inner cities of the southeastern US, places like Birmingham, or Atlanta.
Teddy spoke in an almost formal tone, with very precise diction like an
English person, and softly, gently, as I had mentioned.

   After the introductions, he invited us to find a seat in the fairly
crowded room. We located an empty booth about two-thirds of the way
into the long, narrow room, and took a seat. A waitress who had been
standing at the bar picked up her tray and headed toward us. She was a
white girl, with that pale white skin that is so white it seems like
marble, with a hint of blue in it. About the time she reached our booth,
I was at last able to make out shapes in the semi-dark interior. 
Suddenly, I realized there was something odd about the waitress. She
stepped up to our booth, pulled her pad and pencil out and asked, in
a distinctly masculine voice, "What can I get you fellows?"

   My eyes bugged out of my head and my jaw felt like it was going to
drop all the way to the tabletop. Chuck, just as cool as a cucumber,
said, "How about a pitcher of draft, and a bowl of popcorn, Robin,
baby?"

   The waitress made a sound like, "Hhmmmhh. Baby, hmmm?" Then she
said, "Be right back. Just relax."

   I turned to Chuck and whispered, sort of loud, "Chuck! Did you
notice that waitress? I think that's a guy dressed like a girl!"

   Both he and Big Al began to laugh. Then, Chuck leaned back to me
and said, softly, "You're right, little fella. It is a guy. Pretty
neat, huh?"

   I could hardly breathe. "What kind of place is this, anyway?"  

   But just then, the waitress, Robin, came back with a pitcher and 
three mugs, and placed them on the table. "Be right back with the 
popcorn," she said, in a husky baritone. She turned towards the bar,
and I was struck by how female she looked from the rear. Her long,
pale-blonde hair was done up in a French twist. Her pinched-in waist
flared quite nicely to form perfect hips, and her bottom was rounded
into two soft globes that tapered into long, slender legs. From
behind, you would never suspect she was anything but a woman.

   My eyes were popping out of their sockets, and my mouth was working,
although no words were coming out. "What the fuck's going on here?"
I finally managed to spout.

   Chuck said, "Didn't I promise I would take you to a place where you
could get the premier blowjob of a lifetime?"

   Somewhat hesitantly I responded, "Yehhh," so it ended almost like
a question: "Yehhh?"

   Big Al leaned over. "Just wait and you won't be disappointed."

   We sat drinking our beer and munching on the popcorn, talking small
talk the way guys will do in a bar. Since it was my first visit to 
this particular place, and since I'd already been shocked by the fact
that the waitress was a guy, I continued to look around, trying to
size the place up. Well, it was definitely a weird place. Most of the
clientele were guys, and I swear I saw a couple of 'em kissing at a
table across the room. But, as I mentioned, it was pretty dark in there,
and hard to see. A couple of girls had come into the bar, and they
were really goodlookin' chicks. But something seemed not quite right
about them, too. Maybe I was just spooked by the fact that the waitress
was a drag queen. Anyway, one thing about this whole strange scene
began to worry me a great deal. I discovered that whenever the waitress
walked by our table, or whenever I gave one of the "girls" the once over,
my penis would get rock-hard.

                            * * * * *

   Finally, the waitress, Robin, came over to pick up our empty pitcher 
to get it refilled, and Al grabbed her arm. "Hey, Robin," he said, his
voice a little slurred from all the beer we'd consumed, "You remember
last week, the guy we told you about? And about the blowjob?"

   Robin, who had eventually remembered Chuck and Al, brushed Al's hand
off her somewhat muscular-looking arm, and said, "Yeh, I remember. And,
guess what? A ten buck tip is still required."

   Chuck, without hesitating, pulled three ten-dollar bills out of
his wallet and set them on the table. "Great, baby. Here's a tip from
each one of us."

   Robin looked over in the direction of the door, where Teddy stood,
silently watching our table. She held up her index finger, then held
up three fingers. I noticed Teddy hesitate briefly before nodding his
head, almost invisibly. Robin bent over the table, retrieved the bills,
and started walking over to Teddy.

   When she bent over, I couldn't help sneaking a peek at her cleavage
(Cleavage? On a guy?) which was evident from the low cut of her     
waitress's uniform, a tight-fitting dress with short sleeves and a
skirt which reached only about halfway from her waist to her knees
and was flared out because of all the stiff crinolines under it.

   I wondered how the hell a guy could have tits. It certainly appeared
she had breasts, anyway, and my penis was by now painfully stiff,
imprisoned in the confines of my jeans. I though I was going to blow
my wad right there. What was happening to me?

   Robin handed the three ten-dollar bills to Teddy. He nodded slightly
in our direction, while Robin turned around and started across the dance
floor. She disappeared through a door in the far wall, next to the
blaring jukebox. Chuck arrived at the same door a few seconds after her,
and he, too, disappeared inside the little room. They were gone for 
about ten minutes. Then, the door opened and Chuck stepped out, a big
shiteating grin on his face. Robin was fooling with some loose strands
of hair and adjusting her skirt. She stopped about midway across the
dance floor and crooked her finger toward Al. He immediately jumped to
his feet and nearly ran across the floor, making himself look like a
big idiot. Robin was real cool, though. She just turned on her heels
and disappeared through the door, leaving Al to pursue her, foolishly
dashing through the door into the darkened room on the other side of it.

   Another ten minutes passed, and the door opened again. My erection
was really hurting by now, and my forehead was sweating. There
was perspiration running down my sides from my underarms, too. My lips
were quivering slightly, and I nervously chewed them. Robin stepped 
into the opening and crooked her finger at me. Rubbing my thighs, I
stood up, knees shaking, and began to cross the floor to where she stood
beckoning me. Suddenly, I realized Chuck and Al were walking with me,
about a step-and-a-half behind me. I turned my head to see what was up,
but Chuck just sort of motioned for me to keep walking. Finally, nervous 
as hell, knees knocking, I reached the door. Robin beckoned me through.

   The door, as it turned out, opened into a small room that had a
metal-frame cot, much like the one I slept on in my barracks. There was
also a sink over in the corner, with a mirror hanging above it on the 
wall. Al was leaning against the sink, a small smile on his face. He
winked at me. Robin, who, now that I was standing next to her I realized
was an inch or two taller than me, pointed to the bed. Hands sweating,
forehead wet with perspiration, I managed to cross the room to the bed
and sit down facing her. By now, Chuck had crossed the room and was
next to Al, leaning against the wall. Both men were watching Robin and
me intently.

   Robin immediately knelt down in front of me and reached for the zipper
of my jeans. Involuntarily, I shifted my legs. She looked up at me, a
grin on her face. "First time?" she asked.

   Nervously, I gulped and tried to respond. No sound came out. All I could
do was swallow hard and shake my head in the affirmative.

   Robin kept grinning. "That's all right, Sugar. I'm not gonna hurt you.
Just relax and enjoy yourself." I tried to smile back. I was nearly ready
to start crying. Gently, she pulled my zipper down and reached her soft
hand (soft hand? On a guy?) into the fly of my GI-issue boxer shorts.
The instant her fingers touched my prick, it wilted. It just shriveled 
up into nothing. Robin looked puzzled. She looked over her shoulder at
Chuck and Al. "What's the deal, you guys? I thought you said your little
friend here wanted a blowjob."

   Chuck said, "That's right, baby. We promised Stevie a premier blowjob.
Ain't that right, Big Al?"

   Al shook his head up and down, a big, foolish grin on his face.

   My face was so red and hot I thought I was on fire with a fever.
Robin seemed lost in thought. "Hmmm. Well, you guys paid for a blowjob.
Maybe something can be arranged." She stood up, then sat down next to
me. She took my hand in hers. Then, suddenly, she placed my hand between
her legs and shoved it up her skirt. My eyes popped open like balloons
inflating. My God! She was a guy! She had a huge penis and it was hard
as hell! And nearly as hot as my burning face.  

   I tried to jerk my hand away, but Robin was stronger than I was.
She wrapped my fingers around her pole. Then, she leaned over to whisper
in my ear, as soft and gentle as an ocean breeze, "Get on your knees in
front of me, Shorty, and don't let go of my pecker."

   Chuck leaned forward and said, "Need any help, Stevie? Robin?"

   Robin smiled up at him. "No, it's ok. Everything's cool." She looked
into my wet eyes. "Right, Sugar?" Her hand gripped mine like a vise.
Slowly, I slid off the bed. Now, I was on my knees. Robin spread her
legs to accommodate me, so I could kneel between them. With her free
hand, she lifted her skirt. Her penis was long and slender. She laid
back on the bed, pulling me forward so I was now positioned over her
groin. Gently, she placed her free hand on the back of my head, and
nudged me towards her cock. The tension in the room had become unbearable.
I don't think any of us were breathing at this point.

   Slowly, my head descended until I was less than an inch away from
the crown of her cock. I could see the opening of her dick. It looked
as big as the entrance to a small cave. My lips were trembling. I held
them as tightly closed as I could. Robin continued to increase the
pressure on the back of my head. Suddenly, my lips touched the tip of
her dick. I didn't dare open my mouth. I tried to push my head away,
but Robin's strength and grip were too great for me. So, I pursed my
lips and complained, "Mmmpphhh!! Nnggngg!" 

   Robin, in a soft, seductive voice, simply said, "C'mon, soldier boy,
open wide for Robin."

   "Mmmpphhh! Nnggnngg!"

   Robin continued to press against the back of my head. Her penis was
burning my tightly-sealed lips. Manfully, I struggled to pull my head
away. Finally, after about a minute of this combat, Robin relaxed her
grip. She looked up at Chuck and Al. "I guess he's not quite ready,
fellows," she said. "Sorry."

   Chuck and Al just shuffled their feet, each one a little chagrined
by what they had done. Robin stood up and gently helped me to my feet.
Angered by what had happened, I started to walk over to the door.
Robin grabbed my arm to hold me back.

   "Wait a second, pal," she said in her normal, masculine voice, "I
don't want there to be any hard feelings between us. Ok? I mean, I
certainly meant no harm."

   I thought about her words for a few seconds, then said, "Well, all
right, I guess. Sure. What the hell. No hard feelings." I stuck my 
right hand out to shake hers.                                     

   Gently, she took my hand. Then, suddenly, she brightened, and
a big smile covered her face. "I know what!" she exclaimed. "I'm gonna
give you a little present. Something for you to remember me by."
And before I could say, "No, thanks," she had undone her garterbelt 
and was quickly removing it, her stockings still attached. She pulled
off her shoes and finished taking her nylons off. Then, she bunched
the whole package up in her hand, and placed it in mine.

   "Whenever you take these out, think of me," she said. "Ok?"

   Chuck and Al were grinning. I grinned too. "Oh, ok. Yeh. Sure."
She stepped forward, and before I could turn away, placed a kiss on
my cheek. Her lips were soft and warm and a little moist. She opened
the door, and the three of us stepped through it. Quickly, we crossed
the dance floor, past the rows of tables filled with people, and
headed to the exit. Teddy still stood at the entrance, towering over
everyone. "Leaving so soon?" he asked us.

   Chuck said, "Yeh, Teddy, well, we gotta get back to the base."

   Teddy replied, "Sorry to hear that." Then, he looked straight at
me. "Come back again," he said. "Perhaps we can become better acquainted.
Maybe even become good friends."

   Chuck and Al both said something like, "Sure thing, Teddy." But I
knew his remarks had been directed at me, not at them. I gave him
a puzzled look as I walked through the doorway. He simply smiled and
offered a half-bow.

                             * * * * *
   
   I was so unnerved by my experience at Queen Mary's, I could barely
comprehend what had occurred. All the way back to the base, I sat in
the back seat, idly fingering the garterbelt and silky hose Robin had
left attached to it, trying to make sense of my actions. I had come
within a fraction of an inch of placing Robin's penis in my mouth.
I had never before in my life even considered doing such a thing. Yet,
I had been that (!) close to permitting her to slide her cock between
my lips.

   Chuck and Al were in the front seat, each drinking a can of beer,
both engaged in quiet conversation as the brightly-lit clubs lining
14th Street passed by in a blur. Neither one mentioned what had taken
place in the back room of Queen Mary's, and I was grateful for that.
Every so often, one of them would direct a comment to me. But it soon
became apparent to them that I wasn't interested in conversation, so
gradually, they stopped trying to include me.

   I just wanted to think. I needed to understand something about what
had happened. I was still too shocked, I guess, to make sense of it,
because no rational thought entered my mind. I sighed, deciding I'd
have to try to figure it out later. For the rest of the ride home,
I sat quietly in the back seat, Robin's gift soft between my fingers.
When we got back to the barracks, I put it in my footlocker, hiding it
between some uniform shirts. Then, I simply crawled into my bunk,
exhausted from the night's activities, and immediately fell asleep.

   The next day, trying to feel normal again, I guess, I called Sandy to
invite her to a movie. Although not as enthusiastic-sounding as in the
past, she nevertheless accepted my invitation, and we made plans to
meet at the theater near her apartment building. At the appointed time,
I arrived, and was surprised to find Sandy already waiting. I took her
in my arms, and gave her a kiss, then held both her hands between us.
We chatted amiably for a few minutes, then joined the short line waiting
to buy tickets. We entered the theater, stopping at the concession 
stand to get some popcorn and candy, then stepped into the darkened
viewing room. We let our eyes get adjusted to the darkness, then 
slowly made our way down the aisle to find two empty seats. We had no
trouble locating two seats in a middle row, the theater being half-
empty at such an early hour. We continued to chat as we waited for
the movie to begin. Before long, I could feel my old sense of longing
for Sandy returning. I looked at her sitting beside me, her slender
frame, her pert little breasts perfectly proportioned to her         
diminutive size, her dancer's long, shapely legs. Quietly, casually,
I let my arm drape over the back of her seat, without making contact.
I didn't want to alarm her, or make her nervous in any way.

   The movie began, and we stopped talking as we concentrated on the
story unfolding before us in the darkened room. After awhile, I could
tell my arm was beginning to fall asleep; it was starting to tingle,
and my thumb and fingers felt numb. So I let it begin to slide over
her shoulder and descend, ever so slowly, toward her breast. It seemed
to take forever, and I had by then lost track of the story; but,
eventually, my fingers arrived at her protuberance. Slowly I began to
apply pressure, to allow my fingers to sink into the soft flesh just
above the cup of her bra. She didn't react. Emboldened by what I took
to be her silent approval, I slowly slid my fingers over her cup and
pressed - gently! - against her whole breast. For a second, she allowed
my hand to remain in place.

   Then, suddenly, she stood straight up and turned to face me. Without
any warning at all, she slapped me soundly on my cheek. Then, she stepped
into the aisle and began to walk up to the rear exit. Stunned, I sat
there for a moment. But, then, I gathered my wits about me, and raced
up the aisle behind her. "Sandy," I half-whispered. "I don't understand.
What's going on?"

   She pushed through the exit, then walked purposefully toward the lobby.
Over her shoulder she said, in an angry tone, "I told you before, I'm
not interested in that sort of thing. Can't you just leave it alone?
Can't we just be friends?"

   I followed her out to the street, pleading with her to stop and talk.

   Once out on the sidewalk, she finally did stop, long enough to turn
to me and say, "Stevie, it's obvious you and I don't agree about what
our relationship means. I think we'd better call it off right now."
She turned on her heel, and began to walk toward her apartment building.

   I followed a few steps behind her. "But, Sandy," I cried. "It's
only natural that when a guy likes a girl the way I do you, he's going
to want to touch her and get intimate. It's the normal thing between
boys and girls."

   She stopped and turned to face me. "I don't care if it's normal or
not, you jerk. I don't like it. And I don't have to take it, especially
from a little twerp like you. Now, get lost!" And she turned and fled.

   I was so shocked by the vehemence of her words, I didn't give pursuit. 
I just stood there, hands in my pockets, tears in my eyes, and bade her 
a silent farewell. The bottom had just dropped out of my world. I was in 
free-fall.

   I caught the bus back to Arlington, getting off at the entrance gate.
I nearly missed my stop, I was so preoccupied with my misery. Sandy had
really put me down hard. I couldn't get over her final insult - "You
little twerp." Was that all I was? A twerp? Had she only strung me
along all these months, even though deep down inside she regarded me as
some sort of nobody? Was this how the guys in my barracks felt, too?
I knew they liked to call me "little fella," and "little guy." But I
had always thought they said this in an affectionate way. Maybe like
Sandy what they really meant was that I was just a little nothing, a
jerk deserving of nothing but their secret contempt.

   Feeling pretty low, I entered the barracks. The place was empty. It 
was Saturday night, after all. Probably everyone was out having a good 
time. Except me, of course. I was so down, I thought I'd never climb out 
of the hole I was in. I decided to drown my sorrows in a couple of 
pitchers at the beer hall. 

   When I got there, the place was jammed and full of smoke and the odor
of beer. I didn't see anyone I knew, so I just went up to the counter,
got a pitcher and a mug, and found an empty seat in a corner of the room.
As I sat there drinking, I kept thinking of my misery and pain. I was
convinced that the whole world saw me only as a sawed-off, worthless
jerk, a little nobody, a nothing. The more I drank, the more convinced
I became of the truth of that opinion. I deserved what I got, I felt.
I was filled with self-loathing. I drank a second pitcher, and most of
a third. Then I got up to take a piss, and nearly passed out. I decided
I'd had enough, and staggered out of the beer hall. 

   I could barely negotiate my way back to the barracks, I was so drunk.
I kept tripping over bumps in the sidewalks and falling down. My pants
were torn, my knees and elbows were scraped up, I could hardly see where
I was going - I was a mess. I got back to my barracks, and found my way
to my bunk, where I collapsed in a drunken heap. I lay there on the bed,
watching the ceiling spin around like a top above me. Finally, I had to
throw up, so I managed to stand and stagger into the latrine at the other
end of the room. I was in such a pitiful state, I threw up all over   
myself before I got to a toilet. I managed at last to crawl over to a
bowl and stick my head inside, where I let it hang until I could no
longer feel my stomach heave. Then, I stripped off my smelly clothes
and washed myself at the sink. I would have taken a shower, but I was
afraid I might slip and fall in my current state of drunkenness. I 
stuck my pants and shirt in a toilet and flushed several times until I
was satisfied all the vomit had been washed off. I did the same with  
my t-shirt and shorts. Then, dressed only in my brown Army-issue socks,
I staggered back to my bunk, collapsing again in a heap. I lay there
for a long while, thinking of Sandy and my thoroughly fucked up life.
Then, slowly, thoughts of Robin began to enter my mind. Robin had been
nothing at all like Sandy. She had been friendly and had seemed   
genuinely interested in being intimate with me.

   I slid over to the end of my bunk and opened my foot locker. I fished
around inside it until I found the garterbelt and stockings Robin had
given me. I held them up to my nose, trying to recapture her scent.
Then, I gently rubbed them, pretending that her legs were still encased
inside the soft, silky hose. I wanted to feel her flesh inside them.
But, of course, she wasn't here for me to do that. In my drunken state,
I reasoned that, if my legs were in them, I could rub them and it would
feel just like Robin, which would be just about as good as actually
having her there beside me. Convinced of the solid logic of my thinking,
I put my foot into one of the stockings. My God, that felt wonderful!
No wonder women like to dress up and put this stuff on! This was fantastic!

   Quickly, or as quickly as I could under the circumstances of my
drunken state, I finished pulling that stocking on, then slid the other
one on my other leg. I could feel my two legs rubbing together, and
the feeling of nylon against nylon was electric. I had an erection that
seemed to stretch all the way to the ceiling. I managed to sit up, the
room beginning to spin again and threatening to cause me to fall over.
I circled my waist with the garterbelt and clumsily managed to close
the clasps. Then, I stood, weaving all over the place, and secured the
garter straps to the stocking-tops. Then, I came. In huge, gushing
spurts, I came, all over my bunk. I felt like I had died and gone to
heaven. I was so overwhelmed by my climax, I simply fell onto my bed,
not caring that I was lying in a puddle of cum. I lay there for a while,
luxuriating in the sensuous silkiness of the stockings. After several
minutes, while I rubbed my hand up and down my leg, gently scratching
myself through the nylon, I was amazed to discover my penis was starting
to stiffen again. Through my barely-focused eyes I watched, utterly
fascinated, as my cock slowly rose off my groin and began to twitch
and straighten out. But the beer and the post-climax cooldown overtook
me at last, and I passed out on the bunk, my semi-erect penis gently
swaying back and forth.

                            * * * * *

   A flash of light, a hand smacking my bare bottom, a voice thundering
in my ear. "Hey! Stevie! What the fuck are you doin', little guy? 
C'mon, wake up!" Laughter. Another flash of light. Where's the thunder?
Is it raining? What - ?  My eyes finally opened, slowly coming into focus.
I looked above me. Chuck and Big Al's faces were staring down at me. Their
grins were spread across their faces, and they were both laughing. Chuck
tapped my chin with his hand. "Stevie! Stevie!" he said, "Get up, little
fella. You want the rest of the guys to see you?"

   "Huh?" I grunted. "See what?" I struggled to sit up, the room was 
spinning, my head felt like it had been split wide open by an axe. I 
looked down the length of my naked body. Oh, shit. Big Al was standing at 
the foot of my bunk, aiming a camera at my nylon-clad legs. He was leering 
at me with an evil grin on his face. The camera clicked, synchronized to 
the flash of light that momentarily blinded me. Then I heard Chuck's voice, 
"C'mon, Stevie, get that stuff off and get dressed before other people start
coming in and find you."

   I wanted to cry, I felt so embarrassed. And I was still too drunk to act
rationally. But, my two buddies managed to get me unhooked from the
garterbelt, and pulled the stockings off my legs. I opened my footlocker,
stuffed the incriminating evidence down in the bottom, and pulled out
a clean t-shirt and pair of shorts. After I put them on, I sat back 
down on the bunk, letting my head fall into my upraised hands. I groaned,
feeling miserable, embarrassed, done for.

   Chuck seemed sympathetic. He sat down beside me and said, "Boy, I'm
glad we decided to come back early. I can only imagine what might have
happened if some of the other guys had gotten here ahead of us."

   "Yeh," chimed in Big Al, "some of those guys woulda beat the shit
outta you. I know that for a fact. They hate queers, man."

   I lifted my head to look at his leering face. "Queer? What?"

   Big Al responded, "Hey, it's ok, man. You got nothing to worry about,
as far as I'm concerned. I mean, we ain't gonna say nothing to anybody,
are we, Chuck?"

   I looked at Chuck, who now seemed to be thinking very hard about
something. "Yeh, yeh, right," he said. He was rubbing his chin with his
hand and staring hard at the floor. He turned to me, and said, "Uh,
excuse me a minute, Stevie. I wanta talk to Al for a minute. We'll be
right back. C'mon, Al."

   Chuck stood up, and the two men walked to the other end of the room,
disappearing into the latrine. I continued to sit on the bunk, nearly
doubled over in shame over what had just occurred. My head really
hurt. I was paralyzed, unable to think clearly. Several minutes later,
my two buddies emerged from the latrine and walked back to where I sat
dejectedly holding my head in my hands. Chuck stopped, but Al kept 
going, opening the door at my end of the barracks, and stepping out 
into the cool night. 

   "Where's Al going?" I asked Chuck.

   "Oh, nowhere. He's just going to make a phone call."

   We sat in silence for several minutes, neither one able to look at
the other. I suspected that Chuck was as embarrassed for me as I was
for myself. He didn't know what to say, but he was too good a friend
to walk out on me, leaving me alone with my torment. After awhile,
Big Al returned, closing the door softly behind him, turning to face
us with a big grin on his face. He walked over to my bunk, and sat
down beside me. I was now sandwiched in between my two closest
friends. Chuck leaned forward and said to Al, "Well, what did he say?"

   Al made a fist and thrust it out in front of him, sticking his thumb
straight up as he did so. "He dug it!"

   I looked first at Chuck, then at Al. "Who dug what? What're you two
talking about?"

   Al said, "C'mon, Stevie, we're gonna go for a little ride. We got
some business to discuss with you."

   I looked at Chuck. "What's going on, Chuck?" I asked.

   He shrugged his shoulders, waving his hands in front of him. "Nothin'
for you to worry about, little fella. Let's get in the car, and we'll
talk about it there."

   I was still out of it, and, besides, they were much bigger than I.
So, not knowing what else to do, I fell in between them, and we walked
together out to Chuck's car. I got in the back seat while Chuck and Al
took over the front. The car roared to life, and Chuck pulled slowly
out of the parking lot, driving carefully through the alleyway and
then through the gate. Once again, we were headed down Arlington Boulevard
toward the bright lights of DC, visible off on the distant horizon.
As usual, Chuck stopped at a 7-11, and Al went inside to buy a couple of
sixpacks. He got back in the car, rifled through the glovebox looking
for a "churchkey" can opener, and cracked open a beer. He reached over
the seat and handed it to me. "Here ya go, little buddy," he said.
"A little hair of the dog."

   I took a large swallow of the cold beer, then said, "Ok, what're 
you two up to? Where are we going?"

   My two friends exchanged glances. Finally, Al turned and leaned over
the seat. "Well, Stevie," he began, "it's like this. We figured that
your visit to Queen Mary's must have jarred something loose from your
unconscious mind."

   Chuck interrupted, "Yeh, Stevie, you know, like some sort of buried
memory, or something psychological like that."

   Big Al continued, "We figured that seeing that waitress triggered 
something in your brain that made you want to put them stockings and
that garterbelt on."

   Chuck interrupted again. "Or maybe it was when Robin put her dick
against your mouth. Maybe that's what started it." 

   My fuzzy brain was beginning to clear. Maybe it was true. Maybe "a
little hair of the dog" did bring you back to sobriety. I stared at
the two guys in the front seat. I couldn't believe my ears. I took
another large swallow of beer. Maybe if I got drunk again, this
nightmare would disappear.

   "What're you two talking about?" I asked.

   "Well, you know, putting on those stockings and garterbelt, and
then creaming all over yourself like that," said Chuck. "Why else would 
you do something like that, if you didn't have some sort of curiosity,
or maybe even a predisposition to experiment like that?"

   "I was drunk," I retorted. "I was feeling sorry for myself. Sandy
broke up with me tonight. The deal with the stockings was just my
drunkenness." I was trembling. What if they were right? Oh, shit.
Perish the thought.

   We drove for awhile in silence, until we got to 14th Street and
headed uptown. I had a sense of grim foreboding about this trip.
"Where are we going?" I asked. "Are we going back to Queen Mary's?"

   Al said, "Yeh."

   "Well, I'm not interested in going to Queen Mary's," I said.
"That place has nothing at all for me. It's just a bunch of perverts,
doing their pervert stuff. Why don't you pull over to the curb and
let me out? I'll catch a bus back to the base."

   Chuck, in a tone of voice that sounded sincerely sympathetic, said,
"No can do, little buddy. Al called Teddy and told him what we'd 
found. He told Al to come over right away. He's expecting all three 
of us."

   I took another large swallow, finishing the can. Al opened another
one and handed it to me over the back seat. Suddenly, the car had
grown hot and stuffy. I was sweating, and finding it difficult to 
breathe. I took a huge swallow of the beer.

   "Why'd you call Teddy?" I asked. "What's he got to do with this?"

   Al said, "Well, we figured it this way. Suppose it was true. Suppose
you did have tendencies toward Robin's way of living. Until tonight,
nobody knew, not even you. But then, there you were, sprawled out
on your bunk, wearing only those stockings and garterbelt, rolling
around in your own cum. What're we to think? We're not experts in
this sort of thing. So that's what we figure. Let's get an expert's
opinion. That's why we called Teddy."

   My eyes filled with tears. "Aw, fellas. You can't do this to me.
C'mon. It was just because I was drunk. I'm not like that. You know
that. C'mon. Let's go home."

   Chuck said, again seeming to be sincerely sympathetic, "No can do.
I'd never forgive myself if I didn't give you this opportunity to
learn about your deepest desires."

   "What the hell are you talking about?" I wailed. "What deepest
desires? My deepest desires right now are to go home, go to bed,
sober up in the morning, and get on with my life. Now, let's quit
fooling around and go home."

   Instead of turning around, Chuck actually speeded up. Before long,
we were turning right at U Street, and I could see Queen Mary's up
ahead on the right. I began to tremble. What was happening to me?
Chuck pulled over to the curb and cut the engine off. He and Al   
opened their doors and started to get out. Chuck looked in the back     
seat, where I sat frozen, determined not to move.

   "Aw, Stevie," he said, "you don't want to be difficult about this.
You know Al has pictures of you. And you know he'll just get a huge
laugh out of showing them around to the other guys. You don't want
that sort of humiliation, do you?"

   "What choice do I have?" I responded. "Either that, or go inside
Queen Mary's and be forced to do whatever their pervert imaginations
dream up for me? What kind of friend are you, Chuck?"

   "Hey, Stevie, it's like I said. For all you know, I might be doing
you the biggest favor anyone's ever done you."

   "Yeh, sure. Some favor."

   Al leaned in the window. "Here comes Teddy. I guess your choices
just dropped to none." He grinned at me, an evil, taunting grin.
I continued to sit in stone-faced silence, trying not to look at
either Chuck or Al. But, then, the rear door opened, and Teddy was
suddenly climbing into the car to sit beside me. He said, in that
precise English, his voice soft and gentle, "I did not expect to
have the pleasure of your company again so soon, my friend. Come.
Let us go inside and become better acquainted."

   He loomed over me like some sort of huge monolith. Al was right.
My choices were no longer available. I sighed in defeat, then followed
Teddy out the rear door. The four of us crossed the sidewalk and
entered the club. It was empty. I looked at my watch. It was 12:30.
I couldn't believe this nightmare had taken place so quickly. It had
only been six hours ago that Sandy had slapped me and stormed out of
my life, hurling insults as she went.

   Teddy turned to Chuck and Al. "What time is your friend's leave
finished?"

   Chuck said, "Oh, weekend passes are good until ten o'clock Sunday
night."

   Teddy placed his hand on Chuck's shoulder, turning him toward the
door. "Fine, fine," he said. "Then if you do not hear from me before
eight o'clock tomorrow evening, you can assume everything went well 
and our friend will return to the base on the bus. If I do call you, 
however, I shall expect you to pick him up right away. Will that plan 
present any difficulties for you?"

   Chuck, stepping through the doorway, said, "No, not at all. We'll
be available to come any time, if you need us." He took a slip of
paper from his wallet, wrote down the number of the barracks payphone,
and handed it to Teddy.

   "Excellent," said Teddy, as he held the door for Chuck and Al. Just
before it closed behind them, they both turned to me, waving and
smiling. Chuck said, "See ya tomorrow, little guy." Then they were gone.

                          * * * * *

   Teddy reached out and took my arm, turning me until I was facing   
the rear of the club. In the dim light cast by the red "EXIT" light,
I could see a figure standing by the bar. As I focused my eyes, I
assumed it must be Robin, since whoever it might have been was wearing
a dress. After closing and locking the door, Teddy took my elbow again
and guided me over to the person standing in the shadowy light. Indeed,
it was Robin. Teddy stepped over to her and said, "Go see to the
preparations." She nodded and turned away, heading toward the door of
the small room next to the jukebox.             

   Teddy turned to me and said, "Let us wait here until Robin tells
us she is ready." He looked deep into my eyes, and a small smile played
on his mouth. I was really nervous, and my forehead felt sweaty and       
clammy. The beer I had drunk in Chuck's car was churning in my 
stomach. I was scared to death I might throw up.

   Finally, the door opened and Robin, framed by the light in the 
tiny room, signaled us to come over. We entered the room. Robin had
changed into a nightgown, one of those baby doll types which ended at  
her hips, just above her penis, which stood straight out from her
groin in a huge erection. The nightgown was sheer, a soft shade of
yellow, which covered her nipples and was held up by two thin spaghetti-
straps. From the waist up, she looked very feminine.

   Teddy said to her, "I want him well-prepared for me."              

   Robin smiled and nodded. Then Teddy turned to me and said, "Why
don't you take off your clothes and get comfortable?" Although it
sounded like he was asking a question, it was obvious I had no choice
in the matter. Slowly, nervously, scared to death by the sheer size
of him, I complied. When I was finished, Robin picked my clothes up
from the floor, and disappeared through the door with them. I was
nearly in tears, I was so frightened.

   A couple of minutes later, Robin returned with a small shopping
bag. Teddy said to Robin, "I shall come back later." He turned to
me and smiled. Very quietly he left the room, softly closing the
door behind him.

   Robin stood looking at me, appraising me. She was trying to appear 
as friendly as she could, to alleviate my nervousness, perhaps, or 
maybe because she really was just trying to make friends with me.
She handed me the bag. Then, she said, sweetly, in her soft baritone,
"Put these on and let's see how you look."

   Nervously, I took the bag and opened it. Inside was a nightgown
just like hers, only it was white. There was also a lacy white garterbelt,
and a pair of extremely sheer white stockings. Finally, there was a pair
of white mules, with perhaps two-inch heels. As I removed these items
from the bag, my lips began to tremble uncontrollably. My eyes filled
with tears, and I nearly began to bawl. But, even though my fingers
were also trembling, and I could hardly hold on to anything, I managed
to pull the stockings on and cinch them to the garters, and I slipped
the nightgown over my head, letting it drop softly over my shoulders.
If I hadn't been so upset, I might actually have enjoyed the silky 
feel of the lingerie. But, my stomach was churning again, and I felt
like I had to pee. I finished dressing by stepping into the mules.
Interestingly, they fit.

   Robin said, "You know, with the proper application of makeup and
the right kind of hairstyle, you'll be very pretty. Guys will break
down the door to get at you." She smiled broadly. She reached out with
her hand and took mine. She stepped over to the cot and sat down on
the edge, pulling me down beside her. For someone so decidedly feminine,
she was surprisingly strong. I could feel my resistance beginning to 
fade away.

   "Teddy wants to see if you'll fit in with us," she said, "so that's
why we're doing this - oh, what's a good way to put it? - this 
evaluation. Your friends thought you might be a perfect match. And I
must say, as I look at you, I'm inclined to agree with them."

   Suddenly, she was very seriously looking me over. "I think we can
be great friends, once we get over our initial shyness with each other.
Do you think so?"

   I gulped. I couldn't think of anything to say. I mumbled something
like, "Oh, umm, I guess, I, oh, hmmm..."

   She smiled at me, then put her hand on my forehead, brushing my
sweaty hair back. "Well, why not give it a try? We've got nothing to
lose, certainly, and a friendship to gain."

   She took both my hands in hers. I felt like my entire body was
trembling. She held my hands, obviously trying to calm me. "Now, I   
don't want you to be nervous. It's not like you're being tested.
You don't need to worry that you might fail or something. Just relax.
Of course, I hope that you'll enjoy yourself. Think of this as
an adventure of discovery. Ok?"

   My eyes were like round saucers. "Well," she said, "it was pretty
obvious from earlier this evening that you've never had a blowjob.
Right?"

   In spite of my trembling, I managed to nod my head.

   "And you've never given one, either. Correct?"

   My saucer-eyes were bright with tears. I nodded my head again.

   "So, we thought you might want to, um, give it a try with me.
To see how it'll go. Ok?"

   The tears were falling out of the saucers and cascading down my
cheeks. "Oh, dear," said Robin. "This will never do. Here. Let me get
some tissues to wipe those tears away. Then, we'll get started."

   She stood up and crossed the room to the sink. On a shelf above it
was a box of tissues. She took a few out of the box, then crossed the
room back to where I sat on the bed. She stopped in front of me, and
bent over to wipe my cheeks with the tissues. Then she straightened  
up. Her penis was about six inches away from my face. It wasn't
standing straight out from her anymore; but, it was semi-rigid. And
long. And thick. She put her hand on top of my head and gently began 
to apply pressure to it, moving me slowly but inevitably toward the
head of her cock, which was beginning to deepen its pinkish hue to
a bright red. With her other hand, she gently lifted her penis until
it was pointed straight at me. I could see the little hole in the tip
of it beginning to expand, like a camera's shutter opening. My throat
felt constricted, my mouth felt dry, and my stomach was beginning to
churn again. I wanted to die.

   I could hear Robin above me half-whisper, "C'mon, Sugar, open up.
It won't hurt. Believe me." Once again, like several weeks ago, I   
could feel the head of her cock pressing against my lips. Finally,
knowing resistance was no longer possible, I surrendered, and with a
groan of defeat, I opened my lips. Immediately, her penis entered my
mouth. It was incredibly warm and velvety-soft. Some fluid was dripping
out of the hole in the tip, and I could feel it sort of slide onto
my tongue. Robin said, "Lick it, Sweet Baby; love it."

   Timidly, I pulled my tongue back and licked the head as it pushed
past my teeth. "Roll your tongue around the whole head, Sweetness,"
Robin said. I let my tongue slide around the head as she instructed.
"Now, slide your tongue all the way down to the end and keep licking
around. Like you're licking a popsicle." I got her drift and began
licking up and down her expanding member. 

   She began to draw it back out of my mouth, then, in a fucking motion,
shoved it back in, but slowly and gently. I continued to lick as the
rod slid back and forth. "Now, form a vacuum and suck on it," I could
hear Robin say. I pulled my cheeks in tight, until I could feel her
penis was held snugly in my mouth. Then, I sucked it in as far as I
could. Without breaking her rhythm, she sat down on the bed, pulling me
around until I was on my knees, bent over her groin, with her penis
standing straight up like a pole. I let my mouth slide down her
cock until my nose was being tickled by her pubic hair. Suddenly, I
realized two things: I was relaxing, and I was responding.

   Robin must have sensed it, too, because she quit talking and just
continued fucking my face. I couldn't believe my reaction to what she
was doing to me. I could feel myself getting hotter and hotter, and
really becoming actively involved. At some point, I found my hands
had reached under Robin and were clutching her asscheeks, pulling her
cock up, deeper into my eager mouth. She continued to fuck away at me,
increasing the tempo as she became more excited. Both of her hands now
held my head, squeezing it between them, as she began to breathe in
ragged, noisy gasps. I could tell she was about to come, and I became
frightened again, wondering what it would be like to have a mouthful
of sperm. Then, just as she erupted in my mouth, and I was hit with
an explosion of cum, I felt a hand on my ass and something cold and
slimy enter my asshole. Before I could react to this invasion of my
anus, I felt this huge presence enter my rectum and push in, filling
me up completely, causing me almost to pee. Oh, fucking shit, I was
being screwed in the ass!

   But I was so far gone there was nothing I could do to protect myself
from the penis now lodged deep within my bowels. I was concentrating
all my effort on swallowing the huge blobs of cum being spat into my
mouth by Robin's pecker. Another realization: I was enjoying this!
And her cum tasted great! What the fuck was happening here?

   She continued to hold my head impaled on her dick, even as it slowly
began to soften. In response, I continued to lick it, trying to recover
every drop of her chowdery sperm. In the meantime, the prick in my ass
had begun to fuck me in earnest, and I became increasingly aware of the
sensations it was causing. It was clearly uncomfortable, but it didn't
hurt. The only thing I had ever experienced to compare it to was the
finger the medical technician had inserted in my butt during the    
prostate exam of my pre-enlistment physical. All of us enlistees and
draftees had joked about being cornholed by the medics; but, I must
say that was nothing - nothing! - compared to what was happening to me
now. Suddenly, I heard Teddy's soft voice behind me: "Relax now, let
yourself enjoy this."

   Since my mouth was still wrapped around Robin's penis, I was unable
to respond. I did, however, attempt to relax my sphincter muscles,
though in my nervous state, this was not an easy thing to do. Teddy     
gently pushed his penis deeper into me, then just as gently pulled it
back, until I could feel only the head just inside the entrance of
my asshole. But then the relentless pressure of his push began again,
and again I was filled to overflowing with his massive prick. He began
to increase the pace, pulling and pushing with more energy on each
stroke. As my prostate continued to be battered by the relentless
momentum of his fucking, I felt my own penis begin to stiffen and
thicken. My hands were still clutching Robin's ass and my mouth was
still impaled on her cock. As my penis grew longer, straighter, 
harder, I found myself beginning to respond to Teddy. I began to fuck
him back. Before long, we were a frenzy of two sweating, shoving 
bodies. I could hear him groaning above me, and I could hear myself
groaning as well. My eyes were filling with tears again, as my brain
began singing, "So good, so good, so good," over and over in time
to the pounding of Teddy's cock. As he came, my own cock erupted and
I sent a shower of sperm out over the sheet beneath me, between   
Robin's spread legs. Teddy gasped and poured his hot, abundant seed
into my guts.

   By now, I was both laughing and crying, kissing and licking
Robin's cock, wiggling my ass in an effort to hold Teddy's dick
inside me. Never had I experienced anything like this! I thought I
was in heaven. I wondered why I'd waited so long for this glorious
moment. 

   Slowly, Teddy withdrew his penis from my ass, and I let myself
sink down onto the bed, lying between Robin's legs, her cock still
embedded in my mouth. I wanted to keep it there forever. But, slowly,
she lifted me off her, and slid out from under me. My face sank into
the mattress. I was crying, in joy, in shame, in amazement, in sorrow.
You name it. It didn't matter how many different emotions surged 
through my brain. I was crying just because I was crying. Robin gently
lifted me so I was sitting up. She began to dab at my eyes and my
cheeks with a tissue. As my vision cleared, I realized that Teddy was
standing directly in front of me, his now-softened penis a few inches
away from my mouth, just as Robin's had been at the outset of this
episode. I was thoroughly amazed; soft, Teddy's cock was bigger than
mine erect. Gently, he touched my cheek with his hand, and said,
"It is the etiquette of this house, my small friend, that when I
am finished you must clean me off." Tearfully, I placed my mouth
on his organ. I could taste the residue of his fuck: cum, shit,
petroleum jelly. I didn't care anymore. If this was what he
desired, I was only too glad to do it for him. I began to lick him
clean. As I worked on his gigantic member, I heard him say to
Robin, "She's lovely, Robin, my dear. I know Her Majesty will be
greatly pleased. What shall we name her?"

   Robin said, "I like Fanny. Fanny Gaye. Then we can be sisters.
Robin and Fanny Gaye."  

   (Later on I asked Robin how she had come up with a name like 
Fanny for me.

   "Easy," she said, "My boy name was Robert. When I came out, I
called myself Roberta, and Bobbie for short. Some of my friends
called me Robbie, instead, and from there it was just a short hop
to Robin."

   "Ok," I said, "But how does that explain Fanny?"

   "Simple. Your boy name is Steve. Your girl name would probably
be Stephanie. Steph-fanny. Get it?"

   I loved my new name.)

   I continued to clean Teddy's dick. Finally, he was done with me, and
he gently pushed my head away. I was still nervous and shy with them
both, so I sat on the edge of the bed, my head bowed, looking at my
lap, my hands resting uselessly at my sides.

   Robin put her arm around my shoulder, pulling my head into her
chest. "Oh, yes, Fanny, we're going to be great friends. Sisters.
I've never had a sister."

   Although I couldn't see Teddy's face, since my own was buried in
Robin's chest, I could tell from the tone of his voice he was smiling,
clearly quite pleased with the way things had gone. "I think that's
wonderful, Robin. A good friend for me, a sister for you, a subject
for Her Majesty, Queen Mary. It's been a most pleasant evening, I think." 
He reached out and touched the top of my head, softly rubbing it.

   Robin stood up and, taking my hands in hers, pulled me to my feet.
"C'mon, Fanny," she said. "Let's go get cleaned up and I'll show 
you our room." She opened the door, and, still holding my hand, led
me through the door marked "EXIT." There was a short hallway leading
to a door to the outside rear of the building. About halfway down the
hall was another door. This door opened to a stairway leading to an 
apartment above the club. I guessed that was where Robin's room was.
She led me up the stairs, then quietly down the hall past a few other 
doors, until we stood before one at the furthest end of the hall. She 
opened it and we entered.                                           

   The room was small but nicely furnished. Robin really did have feminine
longings. She had painted the walls a soft pink. The one window was 
framed by a delicate, white lace curtain. She had a small vanity with a
mirror attached to it. The vanity was covered by a slipcover of the same
shade of pink as the wall, and fringed with white lace. The slipcover was
held in place by a rectangular glass top. Cosmetics and other items
were carefully arranged on the glass. There was a chair with a pink
seat cushion and a low back placed in front of the vanity, the only place  
to sit except for the double bed. In one corner was a bureau covered by a 
white lace doily. Her bed was covered by a pink comforter. And on the floor
was a white rug with a pile so deep it hid your toes. The room was so
feminine, it was almost a parody of femininity. She turned to me and
whispered - I don't know why she whispered - "This is our room. Like it?"

   I was stupefied. After living in a barracks for the past sixteen weeks,
as I had, this room was unbelievably soft and plush. I was overwhelmed.
I didn't know what to say. Robin was obviously pleased with it. To keep
from hurting her feelings more than any other reason, I nodded and 
whispered back, "It sure is pretty."

   She smiled broadly, then said, "C'mon. Let's get these sweaty things
off and get cleaned up."

   We undressed quickly. Robin took my hand again, and led me out into
the hall. Directly opposite from her room was a door which, as it turned
out, opened into a bathroom. We crossed the hall and entered it. The
bathroom was small, but we were both able to move about fairly easily
without feeling too cramped. Robin turned on the shower, and climbed in.
She signaled me to get in with her. We both stood under the misty spray,
quietly letting the water run over and cleanse us. Robin had a washcloth
in one hand and a bar of soap in the other. She lathered up the washcloth
and began soaping me with it. She rubbed the soap into me as though she
were giving me a massage. It was wonderful. I closed my eyes and let
myself luxuriate under her ministrations. Soon - too soon! - she was done.
She handed me the soap and washcloth, and now it was my turn to do her. 
Having never bathed another person before, I was at first awkward. But,
soon, I was enjoying myself. I carefully scrubbed every part of her, 
even the inside of the crack of her ass. Her arms gently rested on my
shoulders, and I felt soothed by her gentle embrace. When I was done,
she pulled me deeper into her hug, and kissed me on the lips. It wasn't
a kiss designed to arouse my passion. It was more a kiss of loving
friendship, a sisterly sort of kiss. I began to cry.

   She broke the kiss and released me from her arms. Carefully, she
stepped out of the tub, but indicated I was to remain. She opened   
the little cupboard beneath her sink, and pulled out a razor and some
shaving cream. "You'll love the feeling of your stockings much more
after you've shaved your legs," she said. Then, she soaped my legs 
and began to remove all the hair. I was too stunned to protest. But,
in the back of my mind, I wondered how I was going to conceal this
from the guys back at the barracks. At the moment, I was so overwhelmed
by Robin, and by my recent experience, to think too clearly about my
situation. I just let her enjoy herself. 

   When she'd finished my legs, she shaved my underarms. After she
finished shaving me, I was allowed to get out of the tub, to stand
in the middle of the bathroom, where she gently toweled me dry with
a big, fluffy pink towel. After drying me off, she turned back to
the cupboard and pulled out a container of baby powder, which she
proceeded to rub all over my legs, my groin, my chest, my underarms.
She even rubbed some in the crack of my ass. It felt wonderful.

   We tiptoed silently back across the hall to Robin's room. Once inside,
she took my hand and led me over to the bureau. She opened a drawer.
Inside it were several nightgowns of the type we had worn downstairs.
"You can wear one of these to bed," she said. 

   "What about the one I was wearing downstairs?" I asked.

   "Silly," she giggled. A baritone giggle. "White's for virgins. You
aren't one of those anymore."

   I smiled back at her. "I guess not," I said. "Well, I'll wear this
green one, then." She took it out and handed it to me. It was the same
design as the white babydoll I had worn before. Only this nighty was
a soft green, and so sheer the weave was nearly invisible. It was like
being surrounded by a green-colored cloud. Robin opened another drawer  
and pulled out a green garterbelt and a pair of stockings as green and 
as sheer as the nighty.

   "Most girls don't wear stockings to bed," she said. "But, this is
how Teddy likes us to look. So, go ahead. Put them on." 

   I sat down on the bed, and began pulling the stockings up my legs.
The soft, luxurious feel of them as they slid up my denuded legs caused
my penis to twitch and begin to stiffen. What an incredible feeling!
The soft stockings, the silky nightgown. Never before had I ever
experienced anything quite like this. But, I felt at home wearing these
frilly clothes. I felt feminine, even though I was a long way from    
being it. While I was putting on my stockings, Robin was putting on
her own nighty and stockings. She was wearing a light purple shade.
Since she had on fingernail and toenail polish, and a light application
of lipstick, she really did look feminine. She sat down at the vanity
table and began removing her bobby pins from her hair, letting it cascade
down her back, until it stopped midway to her bottom. She picked up a
brush and began pulling at her hair, stroking it until it gleamed.    
She was actually beautiful. She looked at me in the mirror, and said,
"Climb into bed, Sugar, I'll be right there."

   I laid down in the bed and watched Robin finish brushing her hair.
Satisfied at last, she put the brush down and crossed the floor to 
join me. She lay down beside me, her face inches from mine, and 
gently ran her hand over my body. She was quiet for a few moments, just
smiling and rubbing me. I felt so - how can I say this? - loved, and
protected. I was warm both inside and out. I smiled back at her. Her
eyes began to film over with tears. She whispered, "I've never had a
friend, a real friend, anyway. I've been pretty much alone most of my
life. It's the one part of being a boy-girl I find hardest to deal
with." She was quiet again. Then, she said, "But, now I have you.
Now I have a friend. You're the nicest thing that's ever happened to
me."

   My eyes were misting over, too, and we lay like that for a long
time, our arms around each other, crying and smiling, until at last
we both drifted off to sleep.

   Sometime later, I don't know how much later, except that it was
still dark out, I felt myself being shaken. I opened my eyes. Robin
was asleep, her arm draped over my back, her hand resting against
my tummy. I looked up and saw Teddy leaning over the bed. He gestured
with his finger, and whispered, "Come with me."

   Carefully, I moved Robin's arm so as not to awaken her. Then, I slid
over to the side of the bed, silently standing up and moving toward
the door to follow Teddy. He held his hand out to stop me, and pointed
at my feet. At first, I didn't understand what he meant. Then, I
realized, of course, he wanted me to put on my mules. I reached under
the bed and retrieved them, quietly slipping them on, and tiptoed
out the door behind Teddy. 

   I followed him down the hall to the other end, where his room was
located. He opened his door and beckoned me inside. His room was dark,
except for a dim night light which was plugged into an outlet near
the door. But I could tell it was a considerably larger room than
the one Robin and I shared. He had a private bathroom, which he
entered through a door in his room. He indicated that I was to stand
over next to his bed. I moved to the foot of the bed, and watched
as he lay down on it. His massive cock was resting on his taut,
muscular belly. Even in repose, it was larger than mine erect. It
made me nervous to think that something that huge had been shoved
into my ass.

   I stood there, looking down at him, for a long moment. Then, he
said, "I want you to prepare me to enter you."

   Hesitantly, I climbed onto the bed, carefully separating his legs
so I could crawl in between them. Once I was in position, I reached
out with my hand to take hold of his penis. Then, slowly, carefully,
I bent over and began licking the crown, making a circular sweep of
the entire head. I opened my mouth and slowly took him into it, 
continuing to lick around his rod as I did so. Once I had about three
or four inches of him inside my mouth, I closed my lips tight and
pulled up, sliding his dick slowly back out. Before I released the
head, however, I plunged my face forward, filling my mouth with even
more of his wonderful cock. He groaned. I continued pulling and pushing,
my tongue still swabbing him in a circular motion. I could feel the
temperature of his penis rising, and the skin stretching tighter and
tighter. I bobbed my head up and down the length of his dick, or at
least as much of it as I could fit in my mouth. Finally, he placed
his hands on either side of my head and gently lifted me off him.

   "Now, straddle me," he said.

   I sat astride his middle, his huge erection pushed against my
groin, rubbing against my own thickening penis. He took my hand and
put a container in it. I looked, and saw it was a jar of petroleum
jelly. After what had occurred earlier tonight, I knew exactly what
to do with it. I rubbed it all over my finger, and shoved it in my
ass, repeating that action several times, until I felt certain I
was well lubricated and ready to receive Teddy's cock. 

   "Put me inside you," he commanded.

   I lifted myself up so that I was directly over his erection.
I took it in one hand and placed my other hand on his chest so I
wouldn't lose my balance. Then, slowly I lowered myself down onto 
his cock. As it began to push into my asshole, I became afraid,
wondering if it would hurt like it had the first time. So, I was
very careful and slow in feeding his dick into me. Once again I had
a full-up feeling, but the pain was gone. Once my ass touched his
tummy, I knew he was in me to the hilt. I rested for a moment,
allowing myself to get used to the feeling of being plugged up
like this.

   "Start fucking," growled Teddy. I began a rhythm of lifting
myself up, then sitting back down. I could feel my own penis growing
as I fucked up and down on Teddy's massive organ. What a strange
feeling! I wondered if I would ever become totally accustomed to
this feeling of fullness. Suddenly, Teddy reached up with his huge
hands and grabbed the back of my neck. He pulled me down so that
my face was in front of his. "Kiss me," he said. I placed my lips
against his, and immediately his tongue entered my mouth. My penis
twitched and jumped, and I thought I was going to shoot all over
him. But somehow Teddy sensed my crisis, and quickly grabbed my
cock with his hand, squeezing it until I thought he would rip
it off completely. With my mouth pressed to his, I was unable to
cry out; but, I did groan. He continued fucking my mouth with his
tongue, matching it to the rhythm of his prick sliding in and out
of my asshole. I concentrated on his effort, and soon realized my
erection had evaporated. It didn't matter. My pleasure was in
pleasuring Teddy. I knew this without being told.

   Teddy pulled his tongue out of my mouth and his lips away from
mine. He looked up at me and said, "Now, I want you to relax,
but don't stop fucking. I'm going to roll you over on your back."
I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed my thighs against his.
Suddenly, we were tumbling over, his arms holding me against him,
his hands gripping my asscheeks. Now I was on my back beneath his
full weight. I was being fucked like a woman. And then the oddest 
thing happened. I could feel his masculine strength as his body 
pressed me into the mattress. I could feel the protective warmth of 
his arms wrapped around me. I could feel the mastery of this giant of
a man as his dick pounded away in my rectum. And suddenly I knew 
what it was to be a woman being made love to by a man. I could simply
surrender my will to him, I could let myself be taken in love, I
could empty myself of all resistance and be swept away by his superior
strength. I could feel his orgasm pouring its sweet liquid into my
interior. And I felt so loved, so protected, that I began to weep in 
joyful abandon, kissing his neck, his chest, whatever part of him
my lips could find as he pressed himself against me and emptied 
himself into me.

   After he finished, we lay there in silence, except for my sniffling
as I tried to control my tears. Finally softened, his penis slid 
slowly out of my ass. Then, he rolled off of me and lay on his side
looking deep into my eyes. Softly, he kissed me on the lips, and
said, "Remember the etiquette of the house, little friend. When you
are finished, you may return to your room."

   I sat up and leaned over him, taking his wilted member into my
mouth. Once again, I could taste his sperm, my shit, the greasy
jelly. I didn't care. I loved every sensation I had experienced with
this wonderful man. Lovingly, I licked him clean, even blowing softly
on him to dry him off. I planted a tender kiss on the head of his dick,
then silently got off the bed, left the room, and tiptoed down the
hall to the room I now shared with Robin.

                           * * * * *

   The sun was streaming through the white lace curtain, bathing the
room in a warm sunrise glow. Robin stretched and yawned, loud enough
to wake me up. As I opened my eyes, I saw her beside me, leaning on
her elbow, a grin covering her face. "Hi, sister!" she gushed in her
soft baritone. She leaned forward and kissed my lips. She looked out
the window. "What a glorious day it's going to be! I can't wait to
get started."

   She reached her arm behind me, and smacked me on the bare bottom.
"C'mon, lazybones!" she laughed, "Let's rise and shine!"

   I sat up reluctantly. The events of the night before had left me
completely exhausted. I would much rather have gone back to sleep.
But Robin, wide awake now, and full of enthusiasm, wouldn't let me.
She took my hands, pulling me off the bed. "Hurry up, Fanny," she
said, "we've got a busy day ahead of us. You're going to meet Her
Majesty, Queen Mary, herself. Oh, I'm so excited. I just know she's
going to love you. Then for sure we'll be sisters."

   I had no idea what Robin was talking about. It didn't matter,
really. I figured I would find out soon enough what she meant.
I followed her across the hall into the bathroom. She showed me how
I was supposed to sit to pee - "How many girls do you know who stand
up when they use the toilet?" - and I followed her lead. We took
another shower, and it was fun sharing the stall with her. Her skin
was so soft I enjoyed brushing against her, touching her wherever I
could. She was very businesslike this time, though. We finished our
shower quickly, then carefully shaved our faces. She gave my legs
another once-over with the razor, just to be sure they were really    
smooth.

   We crossed the hall back to our room. At her insistence, I began
to think of her room as ours. "We're sisters," she reminded me.
"Sisters share everything."

   She sat down in the chair at her vanity table and turned to me.
"Now, Fanny, I want you to watch very closely how I make myself up.
You may as well begin to learn how to do this for yourself right away.
Of course, I'll help you at first. But the sooner you can do this for
yourself, the sooner you'll begin to feel like a girl."

   I sat on the edge of the bed and watched her as first she touched
up her toenail and fingernail polish, then began to work on her face.
She'd been doing this for a long time, and was well-practiced in the
art of making up her face to bring out all its hidden, feminine
beauty. When she was finally finished, she really was beautiful. Of
course, I was smitten, so my judgement was biased.

   She sat me down in the chair and knelt on the floor beside me.
"First, let's do our nails. Now, obviously, if you want them to look
real feminine, you'll have to get a manicure and a pedicure. Maybe
next week we'll have time for that. But, today I just want you to
feel what it's like to have polish on your nails. Ok?"

   I was completely under her spell. "Sure," I said. "Show me how to
do it."

   She picked up my foot and rested it in her crotch. Unbelievably,
her penis did not begin to grow stiff. I know mine would have under
similar circumstances. But my foot was warm and comfortable, resting
against her groin like that. With a frown of intense concentration,
she began to paint my nails, instructing me in the ways of being
carefully meticulous in the application of polish. When she had finished
that foot, she placed the jar and brush on the vanity. "Your turn,"
she said, "Let's see what you've learned."

   I was a little clumsy with the toes I had to do, but for the most
part, I did all right for a beginner. At least Robin was pleased.
"You did fine, Fanny. Now, do your fingernails the same way. It should
be easier since you don't have to get all scrunched up to do them."
I laughed delightedly at her joyful chatter, carefully applying the
polish to my fingernails. We continued to chat while she put makeup on
me, instructing me in the fine points of foundation, rouge, eyeliner,
lipstick and whatever else I might need to know about making myself
glamorous. When we were done, she looked into my eyes, suddenly serious,
and said, "Gee, Fanny, you really are a lovely girl. Come see yourself
in the mirror."

   With my hair in a GI brush cut, it was hard for me to agree with
Robin; however, I could see that my face did indeed have a feminine
softness to it, curved rather than angular. I wondered what difference
a wig would make. Robin didn't keep me in suspense for long. She got
up and went over to the closet, taking down a box from the shelf above 
the hanger rod. Inside the box was a wig, sitting on a wig form. It
was obviously an expensive wig; it looked positively real. Robin told
me she had worn this until her own hair had grown in. Now, I could
wear it. "Sisters share everything," was her explanation. Carefully,
she placed it on my head, showing me how it was held in place by  
strategically located hairpins. This time when I looked in the mirror,
I saw a girl looking back. I was amazed, and a little frightened.

   Robin, on the other hand, was delighted. She pulled me out of the
chair, saying, "C'mon, let's finish dressing. We've got a breakfast
to prepare." She went over to the bureau and opened the bottom drawer.
She turned to show me what she had retrieved. In each hand she held
what appeared to be a corset. She held them up for me to examine.
"I am so excited. Ever since I began dressing, I have wanted to wear
a corset like this. It's got boned stays so it'll really hold you
in. And it's got laces, so you can trim your waist to a mere wisp of
nothing. It's so feminine, I nearly climax just looking at it."

   I said, "Well, why haven't you worn it before?"

   "Silly," she replied. "I can't tie the laces by myself. But, now
that I have you, at long last my dream will come true. And, lucky,
lucky you. I have two corsets. So you get to wear one, too."
She handed me one of the garments. It was made of a sort-of elasticized
rubber, covered with a silky soft material and lacy edges, with stiff,
ridged vertical stays arranged at intervals around it. In the back was
a row of laces designed to hold the garment tightly to the wearer's
body. There were six garter straps, three for each leg. It appeared
that, once in place, it would cover the wearer's middle, from the hips
to just below the breasts. I wondered what it would feel like to wear
it.

   While I was examining it, Robin was putting on a pair of black
fishnet stockings. "When we're working in the club," she explained,
"these are the stockings we always wear. When we're in our apartment,
we can wear whatever we please." She tossed me a pair she had gotten
out of the bureau drawer. "Anyway, you might want to put these on
and pull them up over your knees, at least. Once you're laced into
that corset, it's going to be almost impossible for you to bend."

   I followed her advice, and pulled the stockings up my legs. The
fishnet stockings had a strange, erotic feel, probably because of
their design. I felt covered up and naked at the same time. I was
really enjoying all these new sensations. Robin stepped behind me
and wrapped the corset around my middle. "Now, until I get started on 
your laces, I want you to hold the corset tight against your tummy."
She tightened the laces at the bottom of the garment, continuing up
to the top. Once she'd reached that point, I could feel I was
snugly encased inside it. But, she was only beginning. She now went
back to each row of lace-holes, and snugged the laces even more. 
Then, she went back to the bottom and repeated the entire procedure.
I felt like my insides were being squeezed into a blob in the center
of my body. I felt so constricted I wouldn't be able to breathe.
The stays really were rigid. There was no way I could bend my back.
Finally, after a couple more trips up and down my back to snug the
laces, she tied them tightly at the top and tucked them out of
the way. I struggled to reach the tops of my stockings, barely
managing to grip them. Using the mirror, I finally was able to snap
them onto the garters. My face was beet-red from the exertion.

   Robin smiled broadly. "You look wonderful," she gushed. "Now,
it's my turn." I repeated the same procedure she had performed
on me, tightening the laces until I thought I would cut her in two.
But, she was in heaven, her dream had come true. She urged me to
make it even tighter, apparently loving the severe constriction.

   Now I knew where Robin's cleavage came from. With the foundation
squeezing as tightly as it did, there had to be someplace for the
excess skin to go. Robin had carefully pushed the skin of her chest
up, so it now hung over the top of the corset, forming two small
pseudo-breasts. She had done the same for me. As we stood together
looking at ourselves in the mirror, she giggled and said, "So, Fanny,
how do you like having tits?"  

   I was amazed at the effect she had produced. She sighed, "Ah, but
I wish they were real. Well, a girl can dream, can't she?" She went
over to the closet and pulled down two dresses of the style she wore
waitressing in the club. She handed one to me. "Let's see if it fits."
She held it over my head and let it fall over my shoulders, showing
me how to pull it down and fit it to my waist and hips. Then she
showed me how to operate the zipper in the back. The dress fit 
perfectly over the corset. It rested on my hips, flaring out a little
and reaching a point about midway to my knees.      

   I was wearing no underpants. Robin explained, "Both Teddy and Her
Majesty prefer we not wear panties. It's a sign of our availability
to them and to the customers in the club." Maybe so, I thought; but,
I felt exposed and vulnerable without underwear. It was as though
I was defenseless. Anyone could rub my bare ass, or grab my balls.
It was an odd, somewhat scary feeling. 

   Robin stepped into her black, patent leather pumps with the three-
inch heels that she wore in the club. She told me there was another
pair in the closet that should fit me, since her mules had fit.
I pushed them out with my foot, then stepped into them. At first, I
nearly tripped. My feet felt like they were perpendicular to the 
floor. The only way I could walk was to take short, mincing steps,
almost on tiptoe. Robin said, "You look adorable. You'll get the 
hang of the shoes in no time, believe me." She stepped over and
gave me a little hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Come on, sister-friend.
Let's go get breakfast ready."

   We quietly walked down the long hall until we came to a door about
halfway between our room and Teddy's. Robin opened the door and led
me inside to a spacious, expensively furnished room. I could see
a large kitchen beyond, an airy room with two large windows letting  
the bright sunshine in. This apartment was obviously for the use of
everyone in the household. Robin said, "Isn't this room delightful?"
I nodded in agreement. She went on, "I wish we could use it. But it's
only for Teddy and Her Majesty to use. We get the run of the kitchen,
though. Come on, I'll take you back there. You'll just love it."

   The kitchen was spacious, and even held a large table which could 
easily seat up to six people, though there were only four chairs pushed
against it. In the center of the room was a bar-counter. At one end,
two bar stools stood at the empty counter. At the other end of the
counter was a range with four burners. A range hood made of some sort
of copper-colored metal was positioned above the burners, and evidently
vented up into the attic, or roof, or whatever lay above the ceiling.
There were pantries and cupboards all around the room, except where
the refrigerator, the dishwasher, and a small washer-drier unit 
took up the wall space. Beneath the windows was a large sink and drain 
counter. The cupboards were made of blond oak, and the walls which 
were visible were painted white. It was a light, airy, relaxed
environment. Robin whispered, as though afraid to disturb the sunny
silence, "I just love this room. I could spend all my time in here."
She went over to a narrow closet and pulled down two aprons, starched
white cotton trimmed in a lace-edge. We put them on.

   "But why are we not allowed to use the living room?" I asked her.

   "Her Majesty uses that room," she replied. "We are permitted in
her presence only by invitation, and then generally only to serve her.
I don't mind. When I'm not working, I much prefer to be in our room,
anyway. I feel comfortable and free in there in a way I never could
in here."

   Robin began puttering around, pulling pans out of cupboards,
and food out of the refrigerator. She started a pot of coffee going
in a drip-coffeemaker. "We're going to have pancakes and eggs this
morning," she said. "And while we work, I'll fill you in on what
Teddy called the 'etiquette' of the household. You just pull up a
stool and help me make the fruit cups."

   She had gotten some fruit out of the refrigerator, apples, oranges,
and grapes, and had washed them under the faucet in the sink. My task
was now to prepare them in an attractive way in dessert cups. While
we worked, me doing the fruit cups, Robin doing the pancake mix, she
explained how Her Majesty's household worked.

   "Teddy is the manager and bouncer of the club. He is also Her         
Majesty's younger brother. He is free to do as he pleases. He is also
free to use you and me sexually whenever he desires. But, we never
sleep in his bed. When he's finished with us, we come back to our
own room. He has two standing policies which we must always obey.
First, we may never, ever have an erection in his presence. Our job
is to give him pleasure, not ourselves. So, no hardons around Teddy.
Second, when he is done with us, we must clean his penis with our
mouths. You have already been told about that. Down in the club,
our relationship with Teddy is this: if a customer wishes to purchase
our services, Teddy must first approve. We signal him that a
customer has given us a tip, one raised finger for a ten-dollar tip -
that's a blowjob - two raised fingers for a twenty-dollar tip, which
is a fuck. Teddy will nod or point to signify approval. It's not
hard to figure out if it's ok with him. If he signals ok, we take
the tip-money to him before we take care of the customer. We never
keep money on us. Never. If I go shopping, I am escorted by Teddy,
or, more likely, by Samuel the bartender, who, by the way, is not
officially part of the household. But he is a friend."

   "What about Queen Mary?"

   "Her Majesty owns the club. In a way, she also owns us. But I
mean that loosely. We choose to be part of her household. She provides
us with a home and with protection. We, in turn, provide her service, 
both here in the apartment and downstairs in the club. We never see Her
Majesty except by her invitation. You're going to meet her this 
afternoon. She wants to look you over to be sure you will fit in
with us. Don't worry. I know she'll like you. Anyway, in her presence
we are required to kneel at all times. We speak only in response to
her questions. We perform whatever tasks she requires. We address
her always, 'Your Majesty.' We refer to her always as 'Her Majesty.'
I know it sounds kind of silly; but, like I say, she provides us 
with a home and with protection. People like us don't often have 
either or both."

   I looked at her. She was engrossed in her work. She was not smiling.

   "In addition to our duties as waitresses and whores in the club,
and yes, we are whores, get used to that fact, we are also required 
to keep the apartment clean. We clean all the rooms, we do all the
laundry, we do all the cooking. Both Teddy and Her Majesty have their
meals delivered to them. We are at their beck and call twenty-four
hours a day. But it's a pleasure. They're easy to work for, as long
as we do our job."

   By now I had arranged four fruit cups, and Robin had cooked up a
pile of pancakes. She walked over to an intercom attached to the
wall next to the door, and pressed a button. A soft buzz sounded in
the speaker. "That's Teddy's button," she said. A minute later,
a louder buzz sounded in the kitchen. "That means he's awake, and 
we can take his breakfast to him." 

   She walked back over to the counter and reached into a cabinet
under it, pulling out a large silver tray and a matching lid.
She reached into a drawer and pulled out a large linen napkin.
"First," she told me, "you put this napkin on the tray. Then, you
set a plate on it." She put a plate from one of the cupboards on
the tray. "Then, you take some silverware and roll it up in a 
napkin." She demonstrated this procedure. "Now, you pour a carafe
of coffee from the coffeemaker, and pour a little juice in a juice
glass." She did all this. She stacked pancakes on the plate, 
placed a sugar bowl, creamer and syrup server on the tray, then
finished with a cup and saucer. She covered the tray with the matching
cover.

   "Take this tray down to Teddy's room. Tap on his door. He'll
tell you when to enter. You'll have to balance the tray on one hand
while you open the door. Think you can do that?"

   I said I thought I could.

   "You take the tray in to his room and, over against the wall,
you'll see a tray butler. You carry that over to his bedside,
open it up, and place the tray on it. Then, remove the cover.
He may dismiss you. If he doesn't, you stand nearby, being quiet
and unobtrusive, and wait for his instructions. Got that?"

   I said yes, and picked up the tray. It was heavy, but I was able
to balance it without too much difficulty, in spite of the unfamiliar
feel of the high heels on my feet. Carefully, I left the kitchen,
crossed the living room, and stepped into the hall. I walked slowly
down the hall until I stood at Teddy's door. Balancing the tray with
one hand underneath it, I softly tapped on the wooden door. I heard 
him say, "Yes, come in, please."

   I turned the knob and opened the door. Teddy was sitting in his
bed, naked, his long black penis lying quietly between his legs.
In my mind, I was envisioning myself crawling across the room and
up to the foot of his bed, begging him to let me suck him off.
And to think that only yesterday I'd been a virgin! I found the butler's
caddy and set it up one-handedly next to the bed. Then I set the tray
down on it, and lifted off the cover. Teddy seemed delighted.
"Excellent, little Fanny. You're making great progress."

   He ate with great relish, while I stood quietly off to one side,
waiting for his instructions. My mind couldn't erase the image of me
kneeling between Teddy's legs, his enormous erection embedded in my
mouth. My own penis was beginning to grow stiff. Frantically, I
tried to change my thoughts to something else, anything to make my
growing erection disappear. What if he ordered me to lift my skirt?
Robin hadn't told me what punishment I might get for having an erection.
Maybe it was too horrible to talk about. I started to get nervous and
twitchy. My face was burning red. Slowly, my hardon receded. I breathed
a sigh of relief and concentrated instead on examining the wall.   

   Finally, Teddy was finished. "Excellent!" he exclaimed. "Did you
prepare this splendid repast?"

   "No, sir, Robin did," I replied, not knowing whether it was proper
to call him Teddy in my maid role. "I fixed the fruit cup."

   He laughed. "And a delicious fruit cup it was." Then he motioned
me to come stand beside the bed where he could see me more clearly.
"This afternoon, before you return to your base, you will be taken
to meet Her Majesty, Queen Mary. If you meet with her approval, you 
will be invited to become a member of our household. Would you like to 
do that?"

   I nodded. "Yes, sir, very much."

   He studied my face. "I suppose Robin has told you that as a member
of our household, you will be required to work downstairs in the club."

   "Yes, sir, she did."

   "She also told you what your duties entailed down there."

   "Yes, sir."

   "And you still want to be accepted into our household."

   "Yes, sir."

   He clapped his hands in delight. "Good girl! Now, take these dishes
back to the kitchen. You will be called when it is time."

   "Yes, sir." I was so overwhelmed, I even gave a sort of curtsy, even
though I had no idea how to go about doing it. Teddy smiled at me as I
gathered up the remains of his breakfast, and scurried out the door
and back to the kitchen.

   When I got to the kitchen, I noticed Robin was gone. She must be 
serving Queen Mary, I mean, Her Majesty. I was very curious about
this person. What would she be like? And why all the formal reverence
at even the mention of her name? Oh, well, soon enough I'll know the
answer to that question. I sat down on a stool and waited for Robin
to return.

                             * * * * *

   Not long after, Robin did return, carrying a tray like the one I'd
used to serve Teddy. She, indeed, had brought breakfast to Her Majesty.
While we busied ourselves rinsing the dishes and placing them in the
dishwasher, and cleaning up the pots and pans, Robin continued to
explain how the household operated. It seemed that Her Majesty had
several real estate investments, which her brother, Teddy, managed.
These investments kept them busy most of the time. Robin had no       
knowledge of the details; she only knew that Teddy and Her Majesty
were often gone from the apartment.

   "What about the bartender, Samuel?" I asked. "Is he somehow related
to Teddy and Her Majesty?"

   Robin replied, "I don't know if he is or not. I know he doesn't
live here. But, he comes to the club every day around noon to order    
supplies and to supervise deliveries, that sort of stuff. I usually
go down there about one or two o'clock to sweep and clean and set
the place up. And, if he's not too busy, he'll often help me. He's
real sweet. Sometimes he'll come in the morning and pick me up and
take me for walks in the park, or shopping at the stores along U Street,
and we'll talk and talk. As far as I can tell, he's straight. He never
messes with me. I've never seen him mess with the customers, either."

   By this time, we had finished cleaning up the kitchen, so we
went back to our room, where we relaxed and chatted, Robin introducing
me to the wonderful world of girltalk. She got out some women's 
magazines and showed me pictures and articles about womens' dress and
makeup, and we talked for a long time about things I would need to
learn to become a lady. I was absolutely captivated. Robin's enthusiasm
was boundless. I forgot all about the Army. What did that have to do
with me anymore? I wanted to be a girl like Robin.

   Sometime later, Robin's intercom began to make radio static noises,
and suddenly Teddy's voice filled the room. "Would you girls please
come at once to my room?" he asked in his formal, precise manner,
which was not haughty or overbearing, just precise.

   We stood up, and Robin looked me over, making little adjustments
to my wig, and smoothing out my dress. Then, taking my hand, she led
me out of the room and down the hall to Teddy's door, which she softly
knocked on. Teddy, in a friendly, though still properly formal tone,
invited us to enter.

   Once inside the room, he had us stand over by a wall while he
remained seated in an easy chair. "We are about to introduce Fanny
to Her Majesty," he said. "I wanted to be certain you understood the
proper way to behave while in her presence." He then went on to explain
that, upon entering her throne-room, as he called it, we were to position
ourselves directly before her, curtsy, and kneel down. Our eyes were at
all times to be looking downwards towards the floor. We were not to speak
except to respond to questions or commands. We were to carry out any
commands she might issue by first standing, then curtsying, then performing
the desired task. We were to address her at all times as, "Your Majesty."

   I thought this was a bit bizarre; but, since Robin and Teddy both
seemed to be so serious about it, I decided to play along. If I didn't
like this part of life in this household, I could always simply leave
and never return. I hated to think of that possibility, though. I
was really smitten with Robin. And I think I was falling in some sort
of love with Teddy.

   Teddy opened the door and preceded us into the hallway. We walked
a short distance to another door. Teddy knocked on it and waited a
few moments before opening it and entering the room. He closed the
door behind him, leaving me and Robin standing in the hall. Robin
appeared to be as nervous as I was. Perhaps she was just apprehensive
about the impression I would make on Her Majesty. Or about the
impression Her Majesty would make on me.

   Suddenly, the door opened and Teddy said, "You may enter." Robin
went in first, with me right on her heels. The room was quite large.
Over to one side was a huge canopy bed, that must have been king-size;
it dominated that side of the room. Beside it was a night table
with a lamp and a telephone on it. Next to that was an easy chair.
I noticed no dresser or vanity table; later, I was to learn that
there was a separate room which served as Her Majesty's boudoir.
Across the room from the bed sat Her Majesty on her throne. The throne
looked like something from an old movie about African deity-rulers.
It was made of rattan, with a high back intricately filigreed. It sat
on a raised platform, which was covered by an expensive-looking Persian
rug. The rug draped over the platform and spread out several feet into
the center of the room. Robin - and I, of course - crossed the room
and knelt together on the edge of the rug, directly facing Her Majesty.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Robin press her hands together,     
fingers extended, and place them against her breast, as though she 
were a supplicant praying. I decided to mimic her posture.

   Her Majesty was an enormously round Negro, lighter in skin tone
than her brother, Teddy, but still quite dark. She was dressed in a
richly-colored gown which fell only to her knees. Her breasts seemed
to be as big as my head, they were so large. Her arms were as thick
as my thighs. She was huge. Her hair was piled on her head in a
style similar to a beehive hairdo. Her neck, almost as thick as
her arms, was adorned with many gold necklaces, dazzling in their
brightness. Every finger of both hands was covered with gold rings,
crusted with precious stones of a variety of kinds. Her wrists were
covered with bright gold bracelets. She was a magnificent, overwhelming
creature. Robin and I knelt solemnly before her, prepared to do her
bidding.

   Teddy broke the silence. "Your Majesty," he said, "I present for
your approval the newest member of our household, who has chosen the
name Fanny." I began to blush slightly, and to perspire.

   Teddy continued, "Fanny was initiated yesterday. I found her to be
not only acceptable, but charming. Robin has expressed a fervent wish
that she be admitted to our household, to serve as her sister and
friend. I myself support Robin's request. I believe Fanny would be a
delightful addition to our family."

   Her Majesty continued to regard me in silence. Finally, she raised
the index finger of her hand, almost imperceptibly, as some sort of
a signal to Teddy, who stepped forward to stand beside me. He leaned
down and whispered in my ear, "You are to stand, curtsy, and approach
the throne. When you are directly before Her Majesty, curtsy again 
and kneel down." Awkwardly, in my new high-heels, I stood up, executed
a clumsy, novice curtsy, and stepped forward until I was nearly touching
Her Majesty's knees. I curtsied awkwardly again, and knelt down. Once
more, as I knelt uncomfortably before this massive presence, a heavy
silence descended on the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed
a slight movement coming from where Her Majesty sat. Trying not to be
noticed, I glanced upward until my eye was level with her lap. Her
thumb and index finger were gripping the hem of her skirt and slowly
raising it up over her gigantic thighs.

   She was exposing herself to me! My mouth fell open in shock. But
not a word was uttered. I watched in fascination as the skirt traveled
further and further up her legs. Now, she began using both hands to
pull it up. And it was then that the second, most profound, shock
occurred. She had a penis! It wasn't quite as long as Teddy's, though
it was long. But, it was much thicker than his, and even darker, if
that was possible. I stared in wonder at this massive pole, my lips
quivering. She didn't have to say anything. I knew what was expected
of me.

   Slowly, I inched forward on my knees, hoping I didn't ruin my
lovely fishnet hose. When I was poised over Her Majesty's cock, I
stared straight down at it, wondering if my mouth could accommodate
such a large object. Gently, she placed a hand on my head, and pressed.
I closed my eyes, opened my mouth wide, and lowered my face. My lips 
were dry, so I gave them a quick lick, then prepared to accept Her
Majesty's prick into my waiting mouth. As it moved past my lips, I 
licked it around the head and stem, closing my lips over it as I did
so. Using what little skill I had developed in the previous twenty-
four hours, I began giving head to this magnificent organ. Before 
long, my mind simply closed down and all thinking stopped. I was now
running on pure emotional response to all tactile sensations. My
head bobbed up and down on Her Majesty's prick. I licked; I sucked;
I savored the pressure of her member against the sides of my mouth and
the back of my throat. Faster and faster my head moved up and down
the fantastic lollipop. Finally, I realized she was about to come.
How I was able to sense that, I don't know. Perhaps I noticed a
change in temperature, as though her penis were a large thermometer.
Anyway, I began to worry about her cum. Would I be able to swallow
it all? I knew it would be a massive amount; it had to be, coming
from a cock that huge. I was afraid that if I spilled even a single
drop, somehow I would displease Her Majesty and be dismissed, never
to be allowed in her presence, or her household, or even her club,
ever again.

   So, I concentrated on opening my throat as wide as I could to
receive her shower - her downpour! - of sperm. At the same time,
I pressed my lips even more firmly around her penis, hoping I could
keep any cream from leaking out. And then it happened. She exploded
into my mouth, then exploded again. And again. And again. Four
floods of cum poured into me, and I began swallowing as hard and as
fast as I could. I didn't taste; I didn't smell; all I did was swallow.
I was lucky. I managed somehow to get it all. I was gagging and having
difficulty breathing; but, I didn't care. I had done the impossible.
I had swallowed every drop. I began to cry, quietly, my tears slowly
rolling down my cheeks. I held Her Majesty's penis tenderly in my
mouth, gently licking it clean as it softened and shrank in size.
After awhile, I felt the pressure of her hand once again on the top
of my head. I knew I was done. Reluctantly, I raised my head, letting
her cock slide slowly out of my mouth. 

   When I was kneeling straight up again, eyes downcast, I heard
Teddy's voice speaking very softly, "Fanny, you may return to your
place."

   Wobbling slightly on my still unfamiliar high-heels, I stood up
and backed across the rug until I was even with Robin again. Slowly,
I lowered myself onto my knees. The room became silent again. Her
Majesty, Queen Mary, gathered herself together and stood up. Heavily,
she stepped down from her throne and crossed the room to a door
I found out later entered into her boudoir. When she was finally gone
from the room, Teddy said, "All right, girls, you may get up."
Robin and I both stood together. We followed Teddy out of the throne
room and into the hall. He dismissed us, telling us we could return
to our room. Quietly, so as not to break the solemn mood in the 
apartment, we crossed to the other end of the hall, and entered our
room.

   As soon as the door was closed, Robin turned and, with a smile
that covered her entire face, threw her arms around me. "Oh, Fanny!
You're in! You're one of us! She liked you!" She began whirling me
about in a clumsy waltz motion, laughing and squeezing me. I started
laughing, too. And we twirled and whirled until we were breathless.

   We spent the rest of the afternoon excitedly making plans. Of course,
because of my Army obligations, I couldn't come to the club except on
the weekends. I did have my thirty-day annual leave still available,
and I resolved to apply for it as soon as possible the next day. That
would give me more time to become accustomed to my new life. I was so
excited and full of happiness, I didn't even stop to consider all the
complications this weekend would cause for me in the near future.
All I cared about was that I had made an amazing self-discovery, and
had made a wonderful, loving friend, for what seemed like the first
time in my entire life.

   I decided that, rather than call Chuck for a ride, I would take a
bus back to the base. Once I knew the route, I would be independent
of Chuck and his car, and could get myself to Queen Mary's as soon
as work ended each Friday. I could stay as late as possible on Sunday,
too, before returning to base. Every minute with Robin was a minute
in heaven, if having a soulmate could be considered being in heaven.
It felt that way to me, anyway.

                            * * * * *

   When I got back to the base, I went directly to my barracks. All
the guys were there, of course, having also returned from their
weekend passes. Because Robin had shaved my legs earlier that day,
I didn't want to take my clothes off in front of everyone else. I
wasn't sure how I was going to manage taking a shower without being
noticed; I hoped maybe Chuck and Al could provide some assistance 
with this problem.

   They were waiting for me, eager to hear the whole story. Somehow,
I didn't trust Al to keep what I said confidential; but, I did trust
Chuck. I didn't know how to avoid discussing my weekend away from
Al, though. So, I decided to just take a chance, hoping he would
be discreet. Without going into all the details, I related what had
happened - how I had come to realize that Robin and I shared a good
deal in common; how sensitive Teddy was; how caring and generous
Queen Mary was. I didn't tell about all the blowjobs I'd given, or
all the cornholings I'd received. I had the feeling Chuck and Al
were a little disappointed by my narrative. Obviously, they wanted
to know specifically what I'd experienced. The most they were able
to get from me was that I had come to a startling awareness about
myself through the events that had occurred in the last twenty-four
hours. 

   Then came the crucial moment. Somehow, I had to tell them what I'd
done to my legs, and ask them to help me disguise this fact from the
rest of the guys in our barracks. I figured the best way was simply to
blurt it out, and see what happened. Al got this big grin on this face.
I had the feeling he wanted more than anything else to announce my
news to the rest of the barracks. But, Chuck listened very attentively
and seriously. He was an obvious brake on Al's impulsive crudeness.
After I'd made my confession, Chuck reached into his pocket and pulled
out several quarters. He gave them to Al, and asked him to go get some
sodas from the soft drink machine. Reluctantly, Al got up from his
bunk and left to get the drinks.

   Once he was out of earshot, Chuck turned to me and said, "You know,
Steve, I've had a feeling about you ever since I met you. Nothing
definite, mind you, but just this feeling. You never did anything to
make me think you were a queer, or anything. But I had this sense
there was something about you that definitely was different."

   I looked him in the eye. "Well, Chuck, if you did, you were way
ahead of me."

   "I know," he said, "But, the first time I ever saw Robin at Queen
Mary's, she reminded me of you. Is that weird? But, I remember sitting
there, looking at her, and thinking, this could be Stevie. So, I made
up my mind to take you there. Just to see if my hunch was right."

   My eyes misted over. "You mean that? You're not just pulling my
leg."

   "No, no!" he exclaimed. "I'm serious! And I think it's wonderful
you've made this discovery about yourself. I've always liked you,
even though you are probably the unhappiest person I've ever known."

   I smiled through my tears. "Well, not anymore, Chuck. And thanks
for what you've done. I mean that."

   He reached out and shook my hand solemnly. "I know you're going
to have some difficult times ahead, but I'll stand up with you,
little buddy."

   Just then, Al came back with our sodas, and we spent the next
several minutes discussing strategies for sneaking me into the shower
so my shaved legs wouldn't be discovered.

   The next morning, as soon as I was able to get a break and get over
to the headquarters office, I applied for my thirty day leave. As luck
would have it, things were a bit slow and I could be spared. So the
lieutenant approved it, beginning late the following month. I could
hardly wait to give Robin the news.

   After a hectic week of hiding my legs from my barracks mates, I was
finally able to breathe easier on Friday morning. I knew that as soon
as work was done, I was going to be on the bus heading into DC for
an exciting weekend in my new "home." The day seemed to take forever
to finish. But, finally, they sounded retreat, and I dashed to the
orderly room to pick up my pass. Chuck was there, and he asked me if
I'd like to go into town with him. I gave him a wink and said, "No,
thanks, pal. I've got a date." I dashed out the door, across the
parade ground, out the gate, across Arlington Boulevard, and a few
yards down the sidewalk to the bus stop. My heart was thumping like 
a triphammer.

   The bus arrived and I leaped aboard, nearly missing the coin chute
I was going so fast. I got a transfer from the driver, and found a
seat near the back of the bus. All the way into DC I couldn't keep
my hands still, but kept rubbing my thighs, or folding and unfolding
my hands. I was sweating just from the anticipation of getting back
to Queen Mary's. Finally, the bus got to 12th Street, and I jumped
through the back door the instant it opened. I dashed up the street
to where the stop for the 12th Street bus was located. A few minutes 
later, and I was sitting in a seat near the rear of that bus, nervously
tapping my feet, and drumming my hands against my thighs. Finally,
after what seemed like hours - it was probably more like ten minutes -
the bus arrived at 12th and U Streets. Again, I leaped off, and
dashed across the intersection. I sprinted the block and a half the
rest of the way, finally arriving at the entrance to the club.

   I took a deep breath to calm myself, then opened the door, my
heart singing with joy. Teddy was standing just inside the door.
He s