Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The click-clack of Reagan’s footwear sounded out, as he walked down the corridor. He paid the noise no mind, but as he approached the meeting place, he thought back to who he was when he first met Albert Amancio, and the sound of the shoes grew louder with each step. Closing his eyes for a heartbeat as he stopped, a shudder ran through his body.

‘Get out of your head… focus… focus!’ the feminized man thought. ‘You are Reagan fucking Demir, you can do this.’ Willing himself to step forward, he made sure to school his face, and move with grace. ‘Shoulders back, chest out and smile.’

With a smile on his painted lips, Reagan stepped into the library, filled with dark wooden shelves, high backed leather chairs and a long plush sofa.

If it wasn’t for the fact the fireplace was nothing more than a flat panel television, and the fire, a digital picture, it was almost like stepping through a time machine. Sitting in a chair was Albert Amancio with a thick book in hand. For a moment the blonde man hesitated, frozen in the doorway, suddenly afraid to address the man as “Al” as he had done so many times before. The man first arrived as a patron, and that patronage grew into friendship. When he abandoned the candidate it felt like a betrayal, one Reagan only blamed himself for.

Looking down at his dress, and obvious breasts beneath, he was a corruption of his former self.

Reagan knew dwelling on that fact would do him no good. He decided to persevere, but the sensation of his heels sinking into the piled carpet did nothing to help.

“Mr. Amancio, I believe we need to talk.”

Reagan stepped closer, placing the drink for the man on the end table next to him. He took a seat on a couch across the coffee table, presenting calm and confident.

Albert glanced up from the book he plucked from one of the shelves where he saw the short-haired blonde. He thought she was no beauty queen, but certainly attractive enough to never be kicked out of bed. He’d seen her on television a handful of times, and even after seeing her in person, it was still hard for him to wrap his head around the fact that the beautiful young woman was the man he once knew. He couldn’t understand why Reagan chose such a **** time to come out as trans. The announcement only seemed to serve as a bullet to the head of any support he’d worked so hard to cultivate.

Albert watched as Reagan crossed one long leg over the other, pretty blue eyes glued firmly to him “Reagan.” He said their name as if tasting a piece of overdone steak he didn’t care for. “You have changed.”

Al’s eyes roamed over Reagan's body, familiar, yet seeing no hint of a man that once was, sitting there on the edge of the couch, back straight like a girl fresh out of charm school.

“Change is the only constant.” The corners of Reagan’s mouth **** a smile, one that didn’t match the cacophony of feelings inside.

“The world changes, and you have to change with it to survive. That is until you have the power to change the world yourself.”

Reagan felt those words. He had been **** to adapt, struggling each step along the way. As he spoke, he could feel the older man’s eyes on him, not in a lustful manner, but rather a predator sizing up its prey. It was extremely discomforting, but somehow also comforting at the same time, as it was the exact same feeling as the first time they met, and that time he wasn’t wearing four-inch heels.

“Do you know what this is?” Albert held up the book.

“The Count of Monte Cristo… some not-so-light reading while you waited for me?”

With acknowledging the person across from him Albert continued, “It is a story of friendship, betrayal and ****. I find it a rather enjoyable story, and one a bit fitting. Despite the many lies the characters tell, it says a great bit about truth.” Albert tossed the book on the couch next to Reagan. “You should read it sometime.”

Glancing down at the book, Reagan touched the cover, vaguely recalling the story, remembering the movie better. “I’m familiar… but I wanted to discuss…”

The man held a hand up, cutting him off.

“You see, I feel like you are doing a decent job of playing the part of Fernand Mondego. Betrayal was his forte as well. You convinced me you were a straight shooter. The two of us grew close. Hell, I considered you something of a friend. As close as we were - as much as I’ve given you, you would think this,” he gestured to Reagan’s feminine silhouette, “would have come up in conversation.”

Albert's comments cast in the role of the villain, and he felt uneasy. He never wished to betray the man - never wished to live the lie. He didn’t want his entire life turned upside down because of some insane computer geek. Leaning into the chaos was the only way to right the ship, it wasn’t a direction he could ever dreamed up, himself. If anything he was the hero of the story, marching ahead despite the obstacles that stood in his way.

“Al…” Reagan tried before being cut off yet again.

“I recall a young man that came to me, flying out on his own dime - someone who shared many of the same values as I.”

Albert was in his mid-sixties and while he no longer smoked, many years of doing so left his voice gravely. He leaned in uncomfortably close, the image of a mob boss conjuring in Reagan’s thoughts.

“You sat with me, at my private club no less, taking shot for shot. You even took advantage of the opportunity to even get a blow job from one of the more agreeable cocktail waitresses, if memory serves.. Now I understand, not only have you radically altered your body, but you have a boyfriend as well. You went from being a ladies man - getting your cock sucked to be a pretty little cocksucker yourself… and I’m supposed to believe that. I do NOT like being lied to. That shit is for the public - for the sheep.”

“I’m not…” Reagan started, his blood boiling over the insult.

“You're not what!?” Albert shouted, far louder than Reagan’s now sweeter and softer voice. “You aren’t a liar!? We both know that isn’t true!”

Biting his tongue, Reagan counted to three in his head. Silence hung in the air. Albert wanted answers, and felt he was owed them. He felt like he was being used.

Reagan was pissed, even as his mind reminded him how it felt to be kissed by another man, and the shame that went with it. The once up and coming republican knew the old man wasn’t some boyscout. He had to testify at a congressional hearing years before, to speak to corruption during his tenure as an executive at Mega Corp. There were stories of sexual harassment and coverups. Files went missing, blamed on some unnamed bottom rung employee, only to appear a few days later. Those very files had sunk Albert’s chances at running for office himself. Now he held the reins of a political action committee set up by Mega Corp, one with deeper pockets than some nations.

“Everyone is entitled to their privacy. We don’t owe it to anyone a confession, but,” Albert held up his finger again, an act denoting the complete lack of respect he felt for his former friend, “you were given a lot of money, and doors were opened based on who you are… were. This whole trans thing doesn’t seem natural to me, but what do I know?” Albert’s eyes roamed over Reagan’s form once more. “You’re a woman now - a trans woman or whatever.”

Feeling the opportunity slip through his finger, Reagan considered telling him the truth. Even if their mutually beneficial relationship was done, that might change when he dropped the charade after the election.

“I came to hear your apology for misrepresenting yourself.”

Taking in a deep breath, Reagan grimaced. “You know who I am - what I stand for.” Reagan argued.

Albert shook his head. “You went and got tits for God’s sake. You can’t tell me this is a goof.”

Reagan’s emotions were tied into a knot in his stomach, twisting and strangling his male pride. ‘I need his connections…’ They didn’t need his money, but with it victory was almost assured. The only thing that would have made Reagan feel worse was if everything had been for naught.

“I’m sorry I lied to you about who I am… that I couldn’t share the truth.”

The words left a foul taste in Reagan’s mouth. He was on the edge of tears. Maintaining control of his emotions had been much more difficult since the surgery, nearly impossible at times, and it drove Reagan crazy.

Leaning back in the leather chair, Albert crossed his arms, and shrugged. “You’ve always been something of a risky bet, but a trans republican on top of that… yeah, I can see why you kept it to yourself.”

The shift in tone gave Reagan the impression Al was back on board, but he was never one to leave anything presumed. “Does that mean you are willing to work with me again?”

“Well, I suppose we could. Like before, if you win, I will assign some advisors to your staff. I have to protect my interest after all. I’ll use my contacts to get you on some committees that a first-term normally wouldn’t have a shot at. The thing is though, just like I told you long ago, words aren’t enough, actions speak louder. I’m going to need to see who you are first.”

“Okay…” Reagan said slowly. “So what do you want me to do?”

“Well,” Albert smirked, looking into Reagan’s bright blue eyes, grabbing his attention, the makeup doing its job as intended, “I recall a sexy little blonde giving you a blowjob at the club, the last time we were discussing your platform. Back then, we were in a private area, but it wasn’t exactly private like now.”

Reagan’s eyes went wide. He thought he could see where Al was going. He called him a cock sucker just a moment before, and the rest was an easy picture for his imagination to paint.

‘He wants me to suck his dick!’ Revulsion ran through the his entire body, even as he considered what he might gain. “You want me to blow you?”

Reagan’s practiced feminine voice quivered as he spoke. If the feminized man was ever capable of real empathy he might have realized he’d heard that same quiver from many of his playthings in the past. It was a sense of terror mixed with obligation that nobody should experience.

Albert burst into laughter. “No…”

He stopped to consider Reagan on his knees in front of him, those plump lips wrapping around his member. It was an arousing thought, but not one he was going to entertain.

‘No, I’m not gay but… letting him… her… suck my dick… Would that make me a progressive?’

Albert wasn’t going to accept the offer, but the fact that he entertained the idea, while lost on him, showed that he’d already adjusted, and considered Reagan more woman than man.

“No, Miss Demir. You came with your boyfriend, right? I once saw a girl give you head. I think it’s only right that I see you do the same now, just so I know you can be trusted.”

The world seemed to slow down for Reagan, as Albert Amancio's request hit him like a ton of bricks. It didn’t even make any sense. He couldn’t rationalize how a blowjob could prove anything.

Reagan could track the logic and had gone along with something similar once upon a time just like the man had said, but getting a blow job in a private area at a club while being more than a little drunk and giving one while in a side room at a political fundraising dinner.

“You want me to give Elias a blowjob… in here… right now?”

Albert nodded. “Elias, yes, if that is your lover's name. Is that a problem?”

Swallowing hard, Reagan searched his brain for any excuse at all to escape the situation, regardless of how flimsy. He wasn’t being **** to perform such an act, but if the expectation wasn’t met, he knew there’d be consequences.

“How about we set something up for later? Perhaps a more controlled environment?”

Reagan hadn’t really considered the man's penchant for voyeurism, leaving him to think on his toes. He tried to imagine a way to possibly deceive the wealthy pervert. ‘The right lighting in a controlled environment, play with perspective…’

“No, I think now would be best here with the added risk of getting caught when someone realizes you’re missing and comes looking for you. You can think of it as a little appetizer before dinner.”

‘Fuck…’ Reagan thought, his half baked plan not even given the chance to fail.

With what the two of them had been through before there was no way to call him on decorum. Things were very different back then. It was like another life - a much better one compared to his recent day to day.

Pulling out his cell phone, Reagan unlocked it as slowly as possible, looking up to the man across from him, hoping he’d utter the phrase, “It’s just a joke.” before things got any further, but that never happened. Al just seemed to take Reagan’s compliance for granted, as he enjoyed the drink. Fighting the urge to puke, the feminized man sent a text message to his fake boyfriend, hoping Elias would miss the text.

Reagan: Drop whatever you’re doing and come to the library

Just over a minute passed, Reagan’s nerves ramping up, as he watched the seconds tick by a minute at a time.

Elias: Sure, everything okay?

Reagan: I need you to do something, without asking any questions

Elias: Need me to hide a body?

Reagan: No questions

Reagan: I need you to just go along with what I say, I’ll owe you big.

Things were about to change drastically between Reagan and his benefactor. The friendship he had with Al was long gone, and he had to prepare himself as best he could to give a different man a blow job just to maintain the professional relationship.

‘People have done much worse for less.’ he thought, in an attempt to lighten the blow of what was to come, but he found no comfort.

It wasn’t long before Elias walked into the room, seeing the pretty blonde sitting on the small lounge all prim and proper. The way she bounced her foot, and the look on her face made him aware just how anxious she was, all while the man, Mr. Amancio, the one Reagan and Eva were discussing on the way over, looked perfectly relaxed.

Sitting down next to Reagan, Elias placed his hand on the small of his back, feeling the corset through her dress. “Is everything okay?” he whispered.

“Yes.” Reagan answered firmly, his eyes looking over to Al who gave a nod in return.

‘Please, please play along!’ Reagan thought, hoping his fake relationship would seem at least as real as any of his previous tryst. Leaning in, he gave a gentle kiss to Elias’ bearded cheek.

“I need you to stand up and take off your pants.”

“My pants?” Elias’ eyebrows shot up, as he looked back and forth between the object of his affection, and the man he knew she was out to impress.

‘I said no questions!’

Reagan found it hard enough, as it was. Talking a man into a blowjob seemed like it would be easier.

“Just ignore him. Pretend it is just the two of us here.”

Licking his lips, Elias looked into his girlfriend’s gorgeous blue eyes. Her words sounded like a command, but her eyes were pleading.

‘She said “no questions” more than once… Wait, is this a kink thing!?’

He wanted to fuck her on their first date, but he never expected their first illicit encounter would take place in the backroom of a political event.

‘What else is she into?’ Elias thought, not understanding the situation at all.

Without a word he unbuckled his belt, then removed his shoes and pants, before sitting down. He wasn’t shy about nudity like he once was, but still he somehow felt more naked dressed like Donald Duck, than completely in the buff.

“Sit down in front of me b-baby.” Reagan said, as he stood from the couch and patted his hand on the cushion, where Elias promptly took a seat.

Watching the skirted man get down on his knees for his own entertainment, gave Albert a sense of power - a power that had waned over the previous few years, and he relished it. “I bet your boyfriend would love to see the sexy panties you’re wearing. You are wearing something sexy for him under that dress aren’t you, Reagan?”

With just a glance behind, saying nothing in reply, Reagan did as told, pulling the black dress up to reveal his lacy purple panties. In that moment he only felt marginally less defeated than when he woke up with a brand new pair of bouncing breasts. Still he didn’t cry, though it was a fight to hold back the tears.

‘Focus, focus… Get this over with, and pray Elias will understand.’

Kneeling on the hard wood floor, practically sitting on his own legs, Reagan leaned forward to touch the phallus in front of him. The second he did it twitched, growing in both length and girth.

‘Elias must be as blue-balled as me.’ Reagan reasoned, thinking the man’s situation mirrored his own arousal a few nights earlier.

While Reagan was amply familiar with his own genitals, it still surprised him how warm Elias’ was. That night at the club ran through his mind. The sexy blonde was paid more than most escorts earned. She dived right in, after saying something that had stuck with him, and for some reason he repeated it.

“I’m going to make you groan and praise my name, as I give you a glimpse of heaven.”

It was like an extremely cheesy line from a porno, but when she was finished Reagan knew she wasn’t lying .

While Elias wasn’t exactly comfortable being watched by a shriveled old man, he believed he was fulfilling his girlfriend’s exhibitionist desires. The level of exposure seemed like a stupid risk given she was running for office, but that danger was what made the whole experience delightfully pleasurable. Reagan wasn’t even in a rush, taking her time to hold his dick in one hand, examining it as if it was the greatest marvel she’d ever seen.

‘My girl knows precisely what she wants, but she’s hesitant enough to wait for my permission.’ Smiling, Elias ran a finger down her cheek. “Go ahead, it’s okay.”

Frozen in fear and disgust while staring at the swelling erection, Reagan met eyes with Elias. He needed him to go along, but the man’s voice urging him forward was as unwelcome a sound as it was necessary.

‘Good man… He knows how hard this is…’

Elias’ approval offered Reagan no peace, but he was a man of action. It didn’t matter what he looked like, Elias knew it, he knew it, and “fucking Al” knew it, but the latter was punishing Reagan, laying out an impossible task.

‘I will do what I have to do.’

With one hand on the cock, Reagan used the other to run his nails along Elias’ leg gently. He worked his way up to cup the man’s balls, flexing one finger at a time in a rhythmic motion, as he leaned in and kissed the tip. The warm flesh had a smell to it, not putrid, but a musk he was now sure most girls were in some way familiar with. Trying to ignore it, Reagan kissed the tip once more, unaware there was more room to grow, and surprised when its mass seemed to double in size yet again.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking fucking fuck.’ Panic ran through his mind as he parted his red painted lips to take the tip into his mouth.

Tasting Elias didn’t bring sudden ****, nor did it cause him to vomit, but Reagan was only able to proceed for a few moments before needing to collect himself. Behind him a pair of eyes watched on eagerly, and he knew it was far too late to back out. He blames the hackers, cursing them for literally bringing him to his knees, like some subservient wench. Al was equally to blame, but the anonymous strangers started the snowball that quickly spiraled into an avalanche. If he’d have known things would have gone this far, he never would have entertained Eva’s insane idea in the first place.

“God… you're big…” Reagan found himself muttering.

He’d been told numerous times his equipment far exceeded adequacy, enough that he had no reason to doubt it, but compared to Elias’ ample manhood, he suddenly felt like he possessed a mere child’s pecker.

“Yeah?” Elias asked, growing more aroused as Reagan teased him.

He held a sense of urgency, fearful that if the wrong server wandered in, they’d have a juicy story to sell to the news. Lauren Boebert might have been able to get away with it at a Broadway musical, but Elias knew that the heavily scrutinized transgender candidate wouldn’t be afforded the same grace. Still, he had no real desire to rush his girlfriend. He gently held her head in his hand, running his fingers through her hair, while she appreciated the treat that awaited her.

Reagan pushed on. He hadn’t actually meant to say that outloud, and didn’t want to acknowledge it. Taking a deep breath, he stuck out his tongue slightly, as he opened his mouth once more to take the tip of the large cock into his mouth.

The second it went in he swished his tongue from the left and to the right, back and forth, feeling the thing twitch, as a shudder ran through the man, not helping him maintain his composure at all. He knew Elias couldn’t help himself. It was involuntary. There wasn’t enough **** in his system to make this act any easier, but taking a break wasn’t exactly an option.

Sealing his lips around the tip of the cock, he started to gently work it. With each pump he raised his tongue, hating himself for what he was doing. As he found a rhythm, Reagan leaned in a little more, bobbing his head up and down.

With every gentle thrust of Elias’ hips, Reagan tried to take more of the phallus into his mouth, the trepidation only growing, a muffled whimper joining the sound of saliva sloshing.

“Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm”

It sounded like a mewling plea from Reagan, as he took Elias deeper and deeper, driving the man wild.

He had to fight the instinct to grip his girl’s hair, knowing if he ruined her perfect coiffure before the meal, she’d be rightfully miffed. It was clear to him that she didn’t have much experience, but as he gazed into her pleading eyes, there was no way he was going to correct her, at least not the first time.

“God, Reah…”

Elias’ breath heaved. Even inexperienced, what Reagan was doing was truly pleasurable, and he could hardly imagine the future after she’d had time to polish her craft. A blowjob, was a blowjob, but she was sharing a personal kink with him, and he’d be damned if he was going to spoil it.

“You are wonderful… that feels wonderful… God, you’re so beautiful with me in your mouth.”

Those red lips wrapped around his cock left a smear, as she worked him. It was pure bliss.

Sure, that bliss was momentarily shattered from time to time when she’d scrape her teeth along his shaft, but there was plenty of time to correct that little issue in the future.

‘His breathing is picking up… Oh my god, he actually likes it. Keep going! Keep it up, Girl! We’re doing a good job! He likes it!’

A strange sense of pride filled Reagan. Sure, performing well meant he’d be finished much sooner, but also Reagan’s ego would swell if he thought he was great at anything, no matter how trivial. The only thing lost on him was the fact that in his own thoughts, he addressed himself as “Girl”.

“Gulg, gulg, GULG, GULG!” The sound filled the room, as Reagan tried to swallow more of Elias’ girth, and pick up the pace, but it only made him ****. As he took a moment to gasp for air, a stream of saliva and precum trailed from his mouth to the cock in hand. With each cough he couldn’t help but squeeze Elias’ dick a little harder, causing the man to shudder with each pulse. The right kind of pain mixed with the pleasure, and the world around him seemed to vanish, as he panted, basking in the moment.

Reagan knew the brief reprieve wouldn’t last, but Albert shifting in his seat caught his attention, and he began to worry when he saw the old man’s pants straining to contain his bulge. The sight made him think what he initially thought - that Al wished he was the one being serviced.

Reagan quickly got back to work. He didn’t want Elias to grow soft, giving the opportunity for Amancio to decide he’d rather step in.

Reagan ran his fingers up and down the shaft in hand, the painted tips only looking daintier next to its mass. Elias seemed to be handling everything well, his head tilted back, and his eyes closed. He assumed the man’s fluid sexuality had something to do with it. Taking a page from his book, the blonde closed his eyes as he took the man’s cock into his mouth once more.

It took little less than a minute after the all-too-brief reprieve before Reagan could feel the dick begin to quiver, the intensity of the salty slimy taste increasing. While he felt sick to his stomach, he was grateful his labor was finally approaching its end.

‘Fuck, I’m making him cum… Fuck! Elias, stop holding back and finish already!’

The longer it went on the worse it was, as his achy jaw could attest. Suddenly, a comment he once made to Al came to mind. Reagan told him a woman’s worth wasn’t just about how she looked, it was also in how she performed. Reagan didn’t believe that to be true, but he knew the old man did, and as far as he was concerned his career now hinged on whether or not Elias would ever finish.

‘...got to do better... Come on, Elias… cum for me...’

A groan escaped from Elias, as his girl picked up the pace.

“God! I love you.”

It wasn’t his intention to tell her the first time mid-felicio, but the heart wanted what it wanted, and at that moment his brain was too stupid to get in the way. He didn’t have the most experience with serious relationships, but he knew enough to know that it probably wasn’t the right time. Still, she continued, as if she hadn’t heard a thing, and he hoped that to be true.

‘Come on… Cum, come on…’

Both Reagan’s knees and jaw were sore. That was when he felt it. The member stiffened, and he earned what he had worked so hard for. A milky white flood filled his mouth, hitting the back of his throat and sliding down. It came to a choice of ****, or swallow, as he felt Elias’ hand gripping the back of his neck, leaving him nowhere to escape. **** from drowning in a man’s semen was not how he wanted to go. Reagan wasn’t sure if it was normal, but he knew Elias had just spurted at least twice as much as he ever had to give.

As Elias relaxed Reagan pulled free, a much thicker strand connecting his defouled lips to the penis he was still holding for reasons that escaped him. He watched Albert Amancio stand, and start moving towards the door.

“That was a wonderful show.” Albert clapped gently, his empty glass left on the table. “Well done, Miss Demir. You have my vote. My people will be in touch. I look forward to your long and successful political career.”

Looking back at Elias, a wide grin spread across his face as he took gasping breaths, Reagan assumed he was relieved that it was all finally over.

“So that was…”

He yanked his hand from the saliva and cum covered dick, as he began to explain what had just happened.

“Sweetheart,” Elias leaned in, kissing the top of his girlfriend's head, an act that quickly shut him up, “I get it.”

‘Shit, he’s right. We can’t speak freely.’ Reagan thought, moving his tongue around in his mouth trying to avoid the leftovers that seemed to coat everything.

Reagan almost told the man that he owed him for going along, but not only did he not wish to repeat himself, he didn’t want to even think about it anymore than he had to. He really needed a drink, and the one he brought was already drained.

“Why don’t you run off to the bathroom and freshen up. I think I’m wearing more of your lipstick than you are right now.”

A bright blush flooded Reagan’s face. Everything was too much. That disgusting sense of pride had bubbled up again and he actually praised himself for his performance.

‘At least things won't get worse.’ Reagan told himself, as stood on unsteady heeled feet, and adjusted the skirt of his dress. He was **** to agree there was much to clean up.

There was still a banquet to attend, and a speech to be made, though he no longer felt much like eating.