Chapter 44

As you left the alley and skirted around the various tennis and basketball courts at the back of the school, various gaggles of students were still hanging around. You could pick up vague snatches of whispered conversation as you passed, from those who clearly recognised Terry.

"Who's that with creepy T… his girlfriend?"

"I hear she's older… and a total slut…"

"She's gotta just be wringing money out of him or something right? For **** and stuff?"

It was a long time since your own struggles through teenage sociability had bothered you. The idea that these gossiping strangers thought you were a young lady ready to spread her legs for a little cash wasn’t going to upset you... after all: you basically were. In fact, since the money all went to Skeg and co anyway, they were missing the mark in more ways than one. You were just a submissive, crossdressing little whore. A **** to the whims of your step-sister and the extended family of perverts she had placed you both in the hands of. You liked being bent over, day after day and invaded by a new parade of strangers. You liked the various, small unsubtle ways your outward appearance now advertised just who and what you were: The pretty, entwining flowers that had been tattooed on your smooth inner thighs, always leading the eye up under whatever too-short shorts or skirt you were wearing. The pinch of a thong between your buttcheeks and light bounce of the glass gem dangling from your belly button.

You had come to terms with all that. Learned to revel in the sexy, sleazy honesty in which your outfits begged others to leer at you and so many were happy to oblige. Drew self-worth from the hungry way your friends and clients desired you as a plaything, where 'civilised' society had never made it half so simple. You were a walking, talking human sex-toy… and perfectly content to be so.

Turning Terry into the same though… that was different. You couldn’t help but feel you were taking advantage of his love, much like those whisperers insinuated. Twisting him around your finger and then sliding it inside someone else. Sure that was sorta what had happened with you, too. But you and your step-sister’s situation had been different, no? And she simply knew you better than you knew yourself.

All this echoed around your mind as you entered the department store and headed upstairs to find a quiet section where you wouldn't be disturbed. Terry clung to your arm in glee and excitement, clearly happy as anything to be trawling through the lingerie aisles with you. Even against all your doubts, some part of you was already undressing his slender form in your mind. Coming up with all sorts of ways you could make a pretty, young prostitute out of him. He was a doll… just like the ones you'd secretly played with whenever your step-father’s stern frown wasn't glaring through your childhood. Dressing him up was a game you couldn’t help but have fun with.

The pair of you scuttled down the short corridor to a changing room with a whole armful of options, escaping the suspicious gaze of its attendant. There you finally found an alcove of enclosed safety where the threat of judging eyes seemed distant. Terry dropped his clothes to the ground without a second’s thought, unveiling his slender form before you as if he had been just waiting to do so. His every inch was waxed smooth and hairless, courtesy of Katie and Jenny’s giggling malice… and it was only in moments alone like this that you ever remembered that the boy was actually taller than you. Thin and long-limbed, where you actually mimicked some of your stepsister’s curviness. His blind devotion so often had him on his knees before you, yet here he loomed above… naked and beautiful.

“A-are you sure you want to do this?” You asked, unsure who you were really posing the question too.

“Of course...” Smiled the boy who loved you. “I want to be everything you are!”