A hurried change of self

“Be quick… I’ve got to go meet John and Miranda soon!” Jesse squeaked over his shoulder to the other sissy.

Suzy had ambushed him after class and dragged him into one of the broom closets they had made use of more than once. The school seemed to have quite an overabundance of such small, confined spaces lining its corridors… almost certainly more for this purpose than any particular surplus of supplies. Jesse couldn’t see any cameras hidden among the neat racks of paddles, rope and lines of different-sized buttplugs, but he knew they would be there. Still, it was pleasant to have some semblance of privacy as he felt his femboyfriend’s hardened flesh slide up under his skirt from behind. It was always a little awkward to be bent over and fucked in the corridors when everyone was milling about and trying to say goodbye. You couldn’t really concentrate on either thing and tended to end up derailing the polite conversation with moans, while also failing to enjoy the invasion quite so much.

Today he had a particular need to scuttle off and get changed, though. John and Miranda had something ‘special’ planned, and had even taken him dress shopping last week specifically for this evening. He had a beautiful, peach-hued and lacy slip to squeeze into just waiting downstairs, and had consulted Mrs Durren over what makeup and accessories might match. Binita had promised to wait by their lockers and help apply it all, since she was becoming quite celebrated as having the steadiest hands. Of course, all of which pressed lightly upon Suzy’s jealousy over him. He had fully expected to be plucked aside and penetrated before he could get on with any of that, and tried to let his lover enjoy it, despite the need to hurry. Wiggling his little ass to show appreciation for every thrust and leaning back into a kiss. Jesse wished he could reassure his closest friend that those cheeks and hole were always there for him, first and foremost… but a good, little slutwife had to be on time for her commitments. The natural slide into thinking of himself as a ‘she’ had already begun. Her master and mistress for the evening paid good money for their sweet, pretty schoolgirl… she wouldn’t dream of letting them down.

The car waiting for him by the sidewalk was a ruby-red convertible. Gleaming in the sunlight and simply throbbing with impracticality. John’s latest hobby seemed to be renting out a new refurbished antique every other week and weaving it in between all the automated traffic using the actual manual steering of the damn thing. It had made for a few scenarios exciting in more than the usual ways on Jesse’s regular date nights with the pair… but she had to admit: so far they had always ended up laughing afterwards. Just putting her trust in her purchasers and feeling the wind whoosh through her hair and the engine hum beneath her butt, was not so different from the usual pattern of things, really. She plucked up the hem of her dress and points of her glinting heels, scooting in to the backseat. This was because Miranda was currently leaning heavily across from the front passenger side to bury her head in the lap of her cousin. A situation that resumed even after they had both given their hired newcomer a pair of sloppy kisses hello, and set the vehicle in motion.

Jesse smiled as she felt the brisk, Fall air fly past… filled with potential for storms or a last flash of sunlight. She had no idea what lay ahead for the evening, but was more than used to that by now. Her clients would take her where they wanted. Show her a fresh set of wonders she could never have imagined, growing up in the grey world of Home 23. Then they would probably fuck her little brains out and drop her off back in that other dimension, to hear about how Betsy’s day had been. This was her life now: day in, day out… and the trainee sissy-slutwife was beginning to really think… maybe it wasn’t so bad.