The Secret Self

by Christina Shelly

  ‘Don’t worry, Eve. It’s tucked away nice and neatly.’

  Eve smiles with embarrassment at Cherry, her eyes studying the way her fishnet-sheathed legs flow perfectly from the panty girdle down to the silk-enwrapped shoes.

  ‘God, you’re gorgeous,’ Eve whispers, her head spinning with a breath-squeezing desire.

  Cherry nods, as if Eve has made a statement of the obvious, and then slowly unclips her bra. Her teasing smile widens as she holds the unsupported bra-cups over her generous bosom, her eyes filled with daring intent.

  ‘Oh please, Cherry. Please let me see again.’

  Cherry laughs and then lets the cups go. Eve gasps as the flawless orbs are fully revealed.

  Eve leans forward and places a soft, nervous kiss on Cherry’s left breast. Cherry moans and unleashes a tiny squeal of pleasure. Eve then covers both breasts in girlish kisses and poor Cherry is soon a writhing wreck.

  ‘Let’s go up to your bedroom,’ she manages to say, before pushing Eve gently away. ‘Then I can help you get to sleep.’

  ‘Sleep? I don’t want to sleep. I want you.’

  ‘It’s nearly two-thirty a.m., Eve. You have to be up early. Remember you have a lot to do at work tomorrow.’

  Eve is shaken from her heated ministrations and nods slowly, contemplating the morning with a sobering sense of dread, which is quickly dispelled when Cherry takes Eve by the hand and leads her from the room. Eve provides directions and soon the two gorgeous she-males are in her bedroom.

  ‘Get undressed for me,’ Cherry says. ‘Everything . . . right down to the restrainer.’

  Cherry has brought the sports bag with her and dumps it on the bed. As Eve nervously undresses, Cherry inspects the room, complimenting Eve on her taste and on the intricacy of her imagination.

  As she undresses (and fighting her way out of the waitress costume is not easy), her eyes remain pinned to Cherry’s extraordinary breasts; her cock screams for release from the brutal prison of the restrainer and the cock rings.

  Cherry returns to the bed and watches Eve finally slip out of the basque, then kick off the stunning stilettos and wiggle out of her tights and panties.

  ‘Leave the gloves on,’ Cherry says.

  Eve obeys and faces the beautiful she-male, her rubber-and-steel-imprisoned cock straining angrily, her eyes filled with a painfully deep need.

  ‘Sit down on the bed.’

  Again, Eve obeys. As she does so, she knows that her physical image is now at its most exposed and, perhaps, problematic. Cherry rests her hands on Eve’s shoulders and then gently guides her down on to her back. As her warm skin touches the smooth, cool silk bed sheets, she sighs with pleasure, a pleasure considerably enhanced as Cherry’s breasts rest on her own, disappointingly flat chest.

  Cherry lowers her face to Eve’s and they kiss – soft, delicate, careful at first, and then hard, even brutal, mouths mashed together in harsh need. Eve screams into this inescapable flesh-gag as her cock presses against the front of Cherry’s tight, all-encompassing panty girdle and she feels the hard, tormented length of her lover’s own tightly imprisoned cock.

  Eventually, Cherry pulls herself from Eve and sits up. She runs a cruel, teasing finger over Eve’s tormented cock and Eve screams her terrible, inescapable frustration.

  ‘You want to come so very badly,’ Cherry whispers, her voice full of sadistic pleasure. ‘There is nothing now but that fundamental urge. Your self has disappeared inside it completely. You’ve been truly consumed by desire.’

  Cherry removes her finger and Eve gives her a terribly angry, outraged glare.

  ‘Yep, you’re angry with me. And so you should be, my pretty little flower. But anger never solved anything. You should know that by now.’

  As Eve writhes on the bed, Cherry takes a tube of KY jelly from the bag and squirts a coil of the perfectly clear substance into the palm of her left hand. She then scoops a globular ball of the jelly on to her right index finger.

  ‘Open your legs.’

  Eve looks at her with pained, confused eyes.

  ‘Now.’

  The firmness in Cherry’s voice is sudden and shocking and Eve obeys without question.

  ‘Wider.’

  Again, Eve obeys, knowing Richard has already paved the way for this erotic intrusion. Then, without further warning, she slips her index finger deep into Eve’s backside, inspiring an instant squeal of pleasure. Eve instinctively tries to sit up, but Cherry places a surprisingly strong hand on Eve’s chest, holds her firmly in position and pushes her finger further into Eve’s most intimate region.

  ‘Please,’ Eve cries, tears now welling up in her beautiful sky-blue eyes. ‘Oh, please . . .’

  Cherry continues to work her finger inside Eve, driving her quite insane. And, within a few seconds, Eve’s struggles lessen and her cries soften into longer moans. A look of surprise replaces the look of pain and fear and a knowing smile lights up Cherry’s beautiful face.

  ‘Richard told me it would be another week before you could be properly fucked,’ she whispers. ‘But I think we can probably bring that timetable forward a little.’

  Eve looks up at Cherry and nods weakly. Yes, please, she thinks. With you, my dark-eyed beauty. Then Cherry presses a little harder and a kittenish meow of pleasure slips from Eve’s cherry-red and very moist lips. Cherry stops pushing and begins very carefully to grease the walls of Eve’s anus, a terribly arousing caress that adds new, tormenting pleasure and leaves her rigid penis protesting in a hard agony against its fiendish restraint.

  After a few minutes of this infuriatingly exciting caress, Cherry gently extracts her finger and then smothers her hand in more of the gel. Then, as Eve watches with wide, desperate eyes, the beautiful she-male begins to cover her rubber-and-steel-encased cock in a thick, clear film. Eve begins to buck and squeal. Cherry is once again forced to restrain Eve.

  ‘Lubrication is the key to getting the rings off,’ she says. ‘So try to keep still.’

  Eve nods, gasping with pleasure, trying to control herself. Soon her cock is a glistening totem of helpless she-male need. Cherry takes the ring beneath the cock’s bulging head and begins to work it gently upward. To do this, she must squash the edges of the head down and try to manoeuvre the ring over it. This is immediately very uncomfortable and quickly painful. Tears well up in Eve’s big blue eyes and her gasps of pleasure become cries of pain, the two soon merging into another ambivalent middle space. Then there is a sudden give and the ring is free. Eve gasps with a furious relief. Yet her suffering is not over. As soon as the first ring is removed, there is the challenge of the second, a challenge Cherry is more than happy to meet. The second ring, fixed tightly to the base of the shaft, is eased free with relatively little discomfort, but then there is the same dreadful problem of manipulating it over the fat, angry head, and the same pain. But, after some more careful efforts, the ring is freed, and Eve is genuinely free of their wicked, cruel and relentless grip.

  It is then a simple – and arousing matter – for Cherry to slip her long-nailed fingers under the thin rim of the rubber restrainer and ease it over Eve’s bulging, aching balls and up the hot, hard length of her cock. And as Cherry slips the tight rubber glove off the head, Eve cries out her thanks and the released organ expands visibly, preparing, as always, for final, spectacular release.

  Smiling coyly, Cherry then takes another handful of gel and begins to massage her own enflamed and still restrained weapon of desire. Poor Eve is left to wiggle and squeal and beg for release.

  ‘Don’t you dare come!’ Cherry snaps, as she begins, with watering eyes, to work off her own restrainer. ‘I’ll spank your arse red raw if you do.’

  This threat only serves to excite the beautiful she-male even more, and seeing that she is beginning to lose control, Cherry quickly leans forward and flips Eve over on to her stomach. Cherry gasps as she pulls the rings free and very quickly peels away the restrainer. Then she places her hands on the back of Eve’s upper thi
ghs and gently eases them apart.

  Eve feels the gel-coated tip of Cherry’s cock touch the edge of her arsehole and squeals with surprise and more than a little fear.

  ‘Don’t worry, Eve – I’ll be gentle.’

  And she is. Slowly, but surely, she eases her hard, slick sex inside Eve’s back passage, a careful, ultra-erotic invasion that leaves Eve screaming with a new, terrible and blinding pleasure.

  Cherry establishes a relaxed, regular rhythm and wiggles deep inside her prone, furiously aroused lover. Eve feels as if she is being split in two and fused back together again. This is nothing like the precise teasing of Richard’s vibrator. This is an intimate and profound plundering of her very soul, and the pleasure it brings her is a dark revelation of the beauty of true she-male love. And as she cries her deep, deep pleasure out across the room, she realises this is the loss of her virginity, the first penetration.

  Then Cherry comes, erupting her hot, thick cum into Eve’s arse with a scream so very clearly the scream of a man, a vast, deep animal growl that shatters all illusions and pretence. There is at the heart of Cherry, as with all TVs, the truth of biological identity. As her body is beset by the seismic shudders of sex-quake orgasm, a dark biological truth inescapably makes itself known. Cherry screams her acknowledgement of this fact with a burst of serrated obscenities. Her body almost rises off the bed and nearly takes Eve with it!

  Then, there is a gradual decline in the violence. A few aftershock ripples course through Cherry’s buxom form, but the fundamental explosion is over. After a few more minutes, there is only the sound of Cherry’s rapid breathing.

  Cherry then releases her grip on Eve’s thighs and sits back, a stunned smile on her face. She flips Eve on to her back and stares down hungrily at her hard, long cock.

  ‘Feeling better?’

  Eve smiles, stunned, her arse aflame, her desire at its most unbearable, her need absolute.

  ‘That was amazing. I never knew . . .’

  Cherry laughs, her large, perfect tits bouncing before her with the enthusiasm of absolute satisfaction.

  ‘That’s only the beginning, my love.’

  She leans forward, resting her hands on the bed, and takes Eve’s aching sex in her mouth. With her expert lips and tongue, she teases the lovely, shocked she-male to a quick and suitably fierce orgasm. And as Eve explodes, she knows this is Cherry’s most intimate and simple gift, and also the purest expression of her truly feminine nature. In the height of this most natural of human pleasures, their eyes meet and there is a second of devastating realisation: they are lovers and they are, surely, in love.

  11

  A Goodbye

  Eve is gently shaken from a dreamless sleep four hours later by a somewhat bleary-eyed and very tired Cherry.

  ‘Come, sweetness, time for your big day.’

  As consciousness is regained, Eve notices that Cherry is fully dressed and made up. Her strong, sensual rosewood perfume acts as an erotic smelling salt and Eve quickly becomes aware that she is – once again – violently erect.

  ‘Oh God,’ she mumbles. ‘I’m so hard all the time now.’

  Cherry smiles and then holds the rubber restrainer before her face. ‘That’s why you need this.’

  Before Eve can say another word, Cherry throws back the bed sheets, and begins to work the restrainer over her massively engorged and tormented flesh. Eve is once again reduced to squealing like a baby as the fiendish rubber device is pulled very tightly and inescapably into position. Then, with the aid of more KY jelly, the cock rings are slid painfully back into position.

  ‘Get a shower, then we’ll get you ready for work.’

  Tears of discomfort trickling down her pale cheeks, Eve nods and, with Cherry’s assistance, manages to pull herself out of the bed.

  She staggers into the shower feeling totally disconnected from reality. The sudden explosion of hot water against her head is like a brutal, reviving blow. The glass of exhaustion is shattered into a million pieces and she cries out with purifying shock.

  By the time she returns to the bedroom, she is feeling considerably better and Cherry has set out her clothes for the morning ahead.

  Eve is wrapped in a thick pink towel. The smell of scented soap and talcum powder fills the room, and as Eve stares down at the bed, Cherry steps forward and presses her hand softly against the tell-tale bulge raising from the bottom of the towel.

  Eve moans and they embrace. After a long, passionate, almost painful kiss, Cherry returns Eve’s attention to the bed.

  ‘You’ll wear suitably feminine undies beneath the suit today, Eve. Helen’s instructions. You will be expected to have sorted out your resignation by midday. Helen will pick you up personally at noon from the office and bring you back here.’

  Eve accepts these instructions with a sense of helpless resignation, then slips into a pair of black nylon tights and a white silk teddy. A heavily frilled pair of white silk panties adds the final touch of ultra-femininity. Without the body-shaper, she feels surprisingly exposed. Now, she is most certainly a male in female clothes, a clear and strange paradox. She thinks of the promised physical transformation, the gifts of the Crème de la Crème. Then she thinks of their price and feels a deeply ambivalent quiver of arousal.

  Chanel No. 5 is applied in generous quantities to her neck, chest and shoulders and then she is presented with one of Adam’s simple, black cotton suits, a white cotton shirt and a red silk tie.

  She dresses with an increasing sense of inner disturbance. She feels trapped and exposed. Yet also masochistically excited. Now, more than ever, she is held tightly in the silken embrace of Helen. Now, more than ever, she is being forced to accept a fate that is both completely out of her control and also a perfect expression of her true, long-hidden self.

  Despite having dressed like this on many previous occasions, the suit feels distinctly odd when placed over the soft, constantly caressing feminine underwear. The trousers particularly emphasise the terribly erotic reality of the lovely, ultra-sheer hose, each step now a reminder of a pulsating, unbearably exciting sexual static.

  ‘I feel so strange,’ she whispers to a fascinated and clearly stirred Cherry. ‘And I don’t really know why.’

  ‘You look really sexy,’ Cherry says. ‘Like a woman dressed as a man.’

  Circles within circles. The ambivalent whirlpool of identity, the whirlpool that has sucked Eve into this strange, erotic adventure of final and irreversible transformation.

  Cherry tells Eve to slip her black nylon-wrapped feet into a pair of Adam’s black leather work shoes. She then sits on the bed and rather awkwardly attempts to tie their narrow black laces.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbles, clearly struggling. ‘I can’t do this any more.’

  Cherry smiles sympathetically, kneels down before a helpless Eve become Adam and begins to tie her shoes.

  ‘You really can’t pretend any more, my love. The truth has overwhelmed you, I’m afraid. The moment you applied to join us, you knew that. And that’s why you’ve given yourself completely to the Elect. That’s why you must see this final change through to the amazing end.’

  Eve nods, knowing that every word is true. Cherry finishes tying the shoes and then rises to her feet.

  ‘There,’ she teases. ‘All ready for work.’

  She takes Eve by the hand and leads her to the full-length wardrobe mirror. Here, the gorgeous she-male finds herself confronting a shocking and disturbing image. Before her is Adam. The male persona. The external face of Eve for twenty-eight years. A face she no longer recognises.

  ‘Maybe this will be the last time you will confront him,’ Cherry says, standing by Eve’s side.

  Eve looks at her male self and then at Cherry. As she does so, she becomes aware of the contrast and its meaning: my male self and my female self. And me? I am always somewhere in between. Yet what is perhaps most interesting about the image Eve ‘confronts’ is that, even in this male form, Eve is obvious. Before, it had
been a relatively simple process to disguise her true, secret self beneath the trappings of formal male attire. But now, every movement, every gesture has become Eve’s; now, she cannot escape the fundamental reality of Eve’s revealed and powerful presence. The change is immediate, clear and quite remarkable.

  Cherry leads her from the bedroom down to the kitchen. As she walks, her male clothes rub against the feminine frillies beneath and she is both aroused and embarrassed. Each step is a restatement of the absolute victory of Eve over Adam. Now she feels only uncomfortable when forced to become the vaguely defined male self that has served her as a pragmatic device of disguise for the last twenty years.

  To Eve’s surprise, Cherry has already prepared a breakfast of muesli and fruit juice.

  ‘You must have been up all night,’ Eve says.

  The lovely, elegant she-male smiles. ‘I managed to grab a few hours sleep on the sofa.’

  After breakfast, they leave for Adam’s office. Before dropping him outside the tall, glass-fronted building that houses the UK headquarters of the company, Cherry gives Eve a hard, passionate kiss and wishes her good luck. By this point, Eve’s heart is beating with a nervous speed and a cool film of sweat is glistening on her forehead.

  ‘Don’t worry, Eve,’ Cherry whispers. ‘Everything will be fine. Just keep thinking about the future. About truly becoming your self. Think about what you’ve always secretly desired. And imagine that becoming a reality. A reality that begins today.’

  Eve nods weakly and climbs from the car. Cherry waves, but Eve does not respond.

  She rides the lift to the twelfth floor, her head spinning, her stomach turning.