TG: BiGirls by Vickie Tern (3/4) FFFfffMm (mix and match)








This story is intended only for readers who are lawfully certified
mature, sophisticated, cosmopolitan, and literate.   All others
fuck off.








                           BiGirls 
                         by Vickie Tern



                              iii.

     I woke up the next morning in a really good mood.  All that
pussy, and more to come, and yet I'd been as faithful to my wife as
any of the other BiGirls were to their husbands.  And I felt...
nice.   Jane stirred beside me and then with her eyes still shut
ran her hand caressing down my now-hairless chest to my prick,
which immediately engorged.  She smiled, her eyes still shut.

     "How do you want it this morning, sweetie?" she asked.

     "Any way you want it," I said.

     "Switch?"

     "Sure."  We sometimes played role-switching games, me
underneath being passive and Jane on top pounding on me.  She'd
suggested it a few years ago, and I liked it.

     "Then spread your legs and lift your knees, girl, and I'll
climb on top of you and fuck your brains out." 

     That kind of talk was new, but it was suitable.  And that's
what she did.  She climbed between my legs, said "Wider, babe,"
then lifted herself up to drop down onto my pole so it extended all
the way into her its full six inches.  Then looking down on my
face, her tits hanging down to brush against my chest and my mouth,
leaning on her elbows, she began to pump.  It was odd, feeling so
completely helpless, with her weight on top of me and her arms
imprisoning either side of my body.  Steadily, then faster as her
own orgasm approached, then like some machine-driven piston as my
own groin began to clutch and tense up, then explode.  Afterward,
neither of us could breath at first.  Then as I softened and began
to slip out, she said, "You like getting fucked by a guy whose tits
dangle in your face.  I could tell.  I'll bet it's interesting. 
Well, I have a busy schedule today.  I'll catch breakfast at the
office.  Be home around six -- we'll go out to eat, OK?"  

     And she hopped off me and headed for the bathroom to take a
shower.  Then when I'd just showered and was toweling off, she
stuck her head in and without warning took hold of my cock yet
again.  It remained flaccid, spent by our lovemaking, probably
hours from recovery for re-use.  "Just checking," she said. "I'm
off now.  That was fun, playing the man.  You should play the girl
more often."  So, for fun I sprinkled a little of her cologne onto
my hand and rubbed it on my chest, then went in to dress smelling
flowery.  But she was gone.

     I called Dottie and she invited me across the street to get
measured for my undies.  I wasn't sure I should, but she pointed
out patiently that I should know what my sizes are going in, in
which case my bras and girdles and panties might fit, but maybe
not, or else I could try them on there, in which case they'd
certainly fit and I'd have the advantage of the saleslady's advice,
and also the advice of any other woman who happened to be there. 
That persuaded me.  She took me into her bedroom, amused by my
nervous glances out the window at our own house, picked up a tape
measure, and told me to strip.  Again I balked, and again she had
to explain the obvious -- underwear is not worn over outerwear.  I
stripped naked.  She checked my chest below my nipples and above
them and across them, and my waist, and hips, and what she called
my rise, and so forth, and wrote them down carefully, then told me
I could dress.  But just like Jane she suddenly took hold of my
cock, held it, and smiled at me while squeezing it slightly. 
Nothing, no change.  She said, "Well, you two had a busy time last
night, evidently.  And smell that Cologne, too.  Jane really is
putting her brand on you I guess.  That's fine.  It's a pity though
that I don't get to suck you off again now, as my reward for
qualifying you today to join the Club."  

     "Dottie," I replied, trying to sound chivalrous, but also as
if I was kidding, "I'll gladly give you a rain check on that."  I
was wondering if I'd be back in action by tomorrow and could drop
by Dottie's for a private blow job.  No, there was another Club
meeting tomorrow.  Then I might need Jane again.  But it would be
nice to start up something with Dottie.  Convenient.

     "I'm sure you're kidding," Dottie said.  "I was.  BiGirls only
do with each other what girls can do with each other.  We have
husbands and boy friends for the other things.  No blow jobs.  But
if you'd gotten hard just now, I'd have had to ask you to jerk
yourself off.  A woman's lingerie department is no place for a man
whose prick is trying to prove it's a member in good standing."

     We bought a few brassieres in A and B cups ("We can wait and
'C' if we need to" she said), and a few frothy panties, and two
firm controlling panty girdles, and a cheap breast form (when I
asked why not a good one, she quipped again "Maybe you'll prefer
the home-grown variety!").  Then back to the house to check their
fit.  They felt fine.  I dressed for the rest of the day in an A
cup bra with no breast form, and a pair of panties, both rose
colored.  Both felt satiny smooth, I remarked.  

     "Get used to it," Dottie said.  "That's how your skin will feel
before long, too, if Beryl's juice does its thing.  Oh yes, Alice
told me one of the girls was offended when you went around
bare-breasted bra-less after your session with Beryl yesterday. 
Remember to replace it.  You're naked and indecent without a bra
until you have breasts, from now on.  Also, as extra insurance that
you won't look like a man during the club meetings and accidentally
horrify a member, Alice thought you should begin wearing a little
make-up.  Just in case.  Just a little.  Eye-liner, mascara, and
lipstick is enough for now.  Maybe some eye shadow, so you can be a
woman of mystery.  Here's some of each to keep in your purse.  Oh
yes, you'll carry this purse when you're walking to meetings at
Alice's house.  Out in the open -- don't be ashamed to be seen
carrying a purse.  And walk the way Alice told you women tend to
walk.  Get used to it.  The make-up and the purse are gifts from
me, to make up for my trapping your cock in my mouth the other day
while Meg took pictures.  Buy more make-up without me, at any drug
store anywhere, when these are used up.  And of course, you'll want
to watch for lingerie sales at the stores on your own, to fill in
on the little nothings you'll be needing from now on."    

     Dottie saw me to the door, and as I stepped out she checked the
street.  Then she stretched up, put her arms around me, and kissed
me full on the mouth, just once.  Then she turned casual again. 
"See you tomorrow, honey," she said.

     "I'm glad you checked that no one saw us, Dottie," I commented,
a little edgy.  Jane often came and went during the day, or some
neighbor might report to Jane that I'd strayed off limits.

     "Well, I was actually checking that the kid I hired to snap
photos of us was ready for that big moment.  See him, over there by
that tree?  He ought to have taken some pictures through my bedroom
window, too, from a branch of that same tree.  I hope so.  More
insurance against blackmail, love.  Like your underwear worn at all
times now, and your makeup worn at least during our club meetings. 
In case you ever really do hire someone to snoop on us.  You're
devious, Craig, but so are we, and don't try to match your
deviousness against women who are protecting their reputations. 
Not yet.  Wait till we've leveled the playing field for you a
little more."

     I was glad to get away from Dottie and her cryptic cracks. 
That evening when Jane got home from I was still in my bra and
panties, and had no chance to change.  So I was still wearing them
when we went out to eat.  Even though I was also wearing a shirt,
tie, and jacket, the bra I could feel underneath gave me a feeling
that I was gussied up, dressed special.  I kind of liked it.  My
badge of membership.  

     I had two scares.  One was before we went out, when she told
me we needed to put on our make-up before we left the house, and I
got all flustered about what she could mean.  She said, "Why, by
'we' I meant me, the way I always do.  Oh, poor baby, did we think
that by 'we' I meant you in this case?  Give us a kiss!"  I
muttered something, and she said, "No, dear, you're not pretty
enough for make-up.  Not yet, anyhow.  Are you?"  I let it go. 
Then when we got back home I stripped off my jacket, and she put
both her hands on my shoulders to emphasize a point, and I thought
she could feel my bra straps through my shirt.  She didn't let on
if so, but when I winced and pulled back she told me I was behaving
positively girlish.  

     I soon was.  If such a thing is imaginable, attending Club
meetings became the central event of my days.  I would never miss
a meeting, and I looked forward to them.  Beryl would shoot my butt
when I arrived, with whatever it was I needed to qualify for the
Club, and I never asked what it was.  Antibiotics, I supposed. 
Then we'd divide into pairs of women and pleasure each other, and
then swap partners.  Sometimes threesomes.  Always, they urged me
to think and feel feminine.  We'd talk makeup, and they'd help me
figure my best shades and how to apply them, and clothes.  When
they told me about a closet sale at Victoria's Secret I ran out
and I'm afraid bought more things than I needed, and sexier too. 
Once I accidentally left some frilly black lace panties on my
bureau, and came in to see Jane holding them up and looking them
over. Thank goodness, after a glance at me she just shrugged and
put them in her own drawer, as if they were a pair she'd forgotten
she had.  

     By the third month my skin had grown as smooth as my panties,
and I remembered Dottie's cryptic remark about that happening.  I
wondered if it was from all the cunt juice I was drinking, or from
keeping myself hairless, but it seemed a small enough price to pay. 
Jane liked it, and never questioned it.  Nor did she seem to notice
when the girls tweezed and trimmed my eyebrows -- she commented
only that I looked especially well-groomed these days, and that
looking suave was probably good for business.  

     Another month or two later, one night in bed Jane commented,
"You're plumping out here and there, honey, especially in the
chest, but I don't really see any muscle development.  What did you
say you were doing at this activities club you've joined?"  I said
some vague things about special aerobics, and she let it pass.  But
it was true.  I was now wearing my "B" cup bras, and there was no
room in them for the breast forms.  I thrust out, and didn't dare
appear in public without a jacket any more.  A few times, when Jane
and I were out to dinner, or at the club, and we ran into another
BiGirl, she'd stare at my chest and grin at me, and I'd smile wanly
back.  Again, I assumed it was from all the intimate fluids I was
happily lapping up each week, but I wasn't going to give up being
an honorary BiGirl just because my anatomy was accommodating to my
diet.  Oddly enough, without my even hinting blackmail or bribery,
husbands began to call me in to review their insurance coverage,
and then to write some very large policies.  

     Trying to act like a woman at all times got easier.  I had
grown up from little girl feelings, through big girl's, and I was
now being advised to feel and behave always like a grown up young
lady.  In fact from the way I moved, and got into cars, and so on,
I realized that I might look like a faggot to anyone who didn't
know I wasn't.  It didn't matter to me at all, no more than the
inconvenience of having breasts, but I tried to remember not to
mince around too much.

     A Club rule was that a BiGirl who was unoccupied could
never refuse another member's request, and I soon took to looking
over my ladies of the afternoon like a Pasha, deciding what I
wanted to do with each.  Anything at all, as long as it was
something a woman could do with another.  A lot of what was wanted
was simple cuddling, gentle consolation when a girl felt blue and
just wanted to feel held and loved.  I was sometimes one of the
women who liked to slow dance together in a room just off the
living room, swaying in each other's arms to dreamy music, and
gazing into each other's eyes, until their romantic yearnings
overwhelmed them and they sank to the floor, their mouths and hands
caressing each other passionately, inseparable.  Some just wanted
to swap intimate gossip about husbands or boyfriends, to complain
or boast, and their confidences could get pretty embarrassing. 
Some wanted a lot more.  I found that as my breasts came in, more
and more girls began to request my services.  It seems that some
had originally resented my advantage, that I had their breasts to
play with but they didn't have mine, but now they could make up for
lost time.  Beryl told me some of my sisters had asked if my
breasts could be grown even larger, and she asked if I'd agree to
some supplementary shots to help.  I saw nothing wrong with being
the most popular girl on the block, and said so.  So I took on even
more of a feminine figure.  My waist narrowed, my hips widened, and
my face softened.  Jane began to call me soignee as well as suave,
whatever that meant, and we played switch more often than not, on
those rare occasions when we found ourselves both in bed and in the
mood.  

     It turned out that not even fucking was denied me.  In an odd
way, I got to hump the girls after all, and a few sometimes wanted
my prick as well as my tongue.  Sort of.  It was the tall blonde,
Eden, who worked out how.  And that was odd in itself, because Eden
was the group's only true Lesbian, who never asked me to pleasure
her because, obviously, she still regarded me as a man.  She was
married, so technically she qualified as bi-sexual, but she was the
one who most frequently used strap-on dildos on the other women. 
The other women used dildos now and then, but obviously most of
them preferred being girls during their sexual play, and would
rather have it done to them than do it.  When I suggested I also
use dildos on my fellow clubwomen, Alice said that sentiment was
against it so far, because it might cause me to revert to
masculinity, and as far as they could see I had now become a
perfectly lovely young lady, a joy to take to bed.    

     Still, once I had noticeable breasts they let me forget about
my bra and girdle during club meetings, though of course they
wanted me to dress more and more like a respectable woman at other
times, walking to and from Alice's house with my hair fluffed up
just enough to be passable, or driving to town on errands.  During
our meetings I started to wear maybe only panties or a pretty lace
Teddy, or sometimes nothing at all.  Lisa was eager to lick my clit
while I licked hers, and did it as she had promised me she would
that first day.  My sex with her remained as delightful as ever. 
I had long, strong, orgasms that felt more like clenching than
spurting, more like a lady's than a man's, and very little fluid
ever emerged.  About that time, I noticed that my erections were
becoming fewer and softer.  At BiGirl meetings all danger of
inadvertent penetration had ended.  

     I don't think Jane noticed -- she was terrifically busy with
lots of commissions pouring in on her just about then, and when I
managed to get into her now and then she felt me no more than
usual, no more than I felt her.  Nor did she notice my breasts
either, it seemed.  As often as not we saw each other in passing,
coming and going, and gave each other shrugs and rueful smiles, and
then moved on about our business.  

     Then one Tuesday Alice took me aside.  "I don't know how
you'll take this, Craig," she said.  "But Eden has requested that
you bottom for her today."

     "What does that mean?" I asked.  I was fixing my mascara in
the front hall mirror, and retouching my lipstick before going into
the living room, not listening closely.  

     "Just that," Alice said.  "She wants to fuck your ass.  She
says if you'll let her, as any true girl should, then you can fuck
her cunt after today, if you'd want to."

     The idea shocked me.  I turned away from the mirror, and
looked closely at Alice.  "What do you think, Alice?" I asked.

     "I think it means you've come a long way, Craig.  In Eden's
mind you've crossed the line.  Eden has put that monster dildo into
all of us at one time or another, and plunged away at us.  It's her
thing.  None of us mind, and some of us love it.  Getting fucked
would be for you another step toward admission to the Club as a
full member."

     "But you're women.  You have vaginas.  I have only my
asshole."

     "You're naive, Craig.  First of all, Eden puts that thing
where ever she wants, even into her husband she tells me, to
forestall his putting his thing into her.  Secondly, there are some
women here who prefer anal sex to vaginal, because they think their
husbands should have exclusive use of their pussies.  You wouldn't
be unique.  In fact, Eden has quite a technique for breaking in a
new girl's rear.  Very understanding.  I loved it the first time
she tried it with me, though I myself still prefer her shoving that
monster up my cunt -- Roy is a dear hubby, but he can't begin to
match it with his dingus.  But third and most important, I don't
need to tell you, you owe your sisters whatever pleasure they think
they can derive from you, any kind that a woman can provide another
woman.  This is well into that category."

     My heart began to beat faster, as I saw I would have to
consent.  "Yes," I said.  "Of course I'll do it.  Tell Eden."

     "Tell her yourself when you go into the living room.  She's
waiting for your answer there.  And Craig,"  

     I paused,

     "This is a privilege.  Think of it that way.  None of us ever
dreamed you'd come so far so fast.  But here you are."

     "Yes," I said.

     I never felt so small and helpless as when I went into the
living room to begin the afternoon, not as a Pasha but as the
lowest of harem girls, a virgin about to be deflowered.  I saw Eden
standing in front of the long couch by the far wall, her usual
reaming place for her women of the afternoon.  I saw that she was
prepared to give me the full treatment.  Black leather high-heeled
thigh boots.  A black bustier that pushed her tits far up in front
of her, and black gloves that extended past her elbow, leaving her
fingers exposed.  Poking up in front of her crotch like a tower was
that dildo I had glimpsed now and then on its way in or out of some
girl's pussy, It was two inches in diameter, but it looked thin,
because it was over ten inches long.  She was staring at me with
her legs apart, her hands on her hips, her eyes heavily blackened
with mascara, and her mouth blood red.  Altogether, she was
dominant, domineering, and commanding, and that pole was a staff of
high authority.  My heart began to pound, and for the first time
since I had joined the Club I felt frightened.

     I went over to her and instinct took over.  I immediately sank
to my knees and lowered my eyes, head bowed submissively,
waiting.

     "Good!" she said.  "Now just stay there!"

     Five minutes went by.  Ten.  A half hour.  I could sense she
was still there and hadn't moved.  I didn't dare look up.

     "You call yourself 'Craig'," she said suddenly.  "You took
'Craig' as your femme name.  Do you have a man's name now?  Is
'Craig' also your masculine name?"

     I realized that this was a trick question, and I had better
answer it correctly.  I also realized for the first time that the
correct answer was also truthful.  "'Craig' is my femme name,
Ma'am," I said.  Where did I get the feeling I should call her
that?  "It was once my masculine name.  But that Craig is no longer
masculine.  I pretend he is, the way he once pretended I was
feminine."

     Eden considered this.  "The same way you pretend that you are
not the one when you prefer to be the other.  Well, for me you will
need a real femme name.  I don't fuck with half-men."

     "Eve," I said.

     "What?"

     "Eve.  Eve was made out of a man, in the garden of Eden."

     "Very good, Eve.  A little flowery, but apt enough I suppose. 
Now we'll discover how submissive you can be.  I will want you to
fuck yourself.  To take your own cherry.  You can look up at me
now."

     I saw that Eden had sat herself down on the couch, her long
dong sticking up out of her crotch at an angle.

     "Suck my cock until it is dripping with your mouth's juices. 
Then mount it, facing me or facing away makes no difference to me. 
Kneel straddling my legs, and then lower yourself onto it.  Then,
Eve, we'll see if the girl made out of a man is still man enough,
and girl enough, to take the full length and then go for a wild
ride!"  

     She spread her legs, and I crept forward between them, and
took her cock in my two hands.  Most of it was still exposed.  I
bent over and took its head in my mouth.  It stretched my jaw as I
opened wide to slide my lips  on it, just a few inches up and down. 
I did my best to salivate. and the soft rubber cock head began to
glisten.

     "Practice making love to this cock, Eve.  This cock is your
passageway to full membership in this club.  Kiss it.  Drool on it. 
Desire it even more than you desire to suck pussy."

     An odd request, but I did desire it.  I thought I tasted cum,
the same flavor as when, many months ago, Dottie fed me my own
while Meg took pictures.  My mouth grew more ardent as I slipped
around it, kissing it and rubbing my tongue all over it.  I wanted
to take it into me, to fulfill me!  So when I covered it thoroughly
with my mouth's juices I climbed onto the couch, straddled Eden's
lap facing her, closed my eyes, and lowered myself onto it until
the soft cock-head touched my asshole.  

     "The moment of truth, Eve.  The easiest way is, a few inches
for it to get inside you, and then when you can, take in all the
rest all at once.  Or you can wiggle down it like some jazz baby or
teenybopper out for the night in some disco." 

     I lowered myself slowly.  It pressed against my sphincter and
hurt, and I thought to myself, this will never go in, and I will
never be a woman.  Then all of a sudden it slipped through, and the
head lodged just inside.  I felt split and just held myself there,
for a moment unable to move.  Then I found I could clench my
buttocks slightly.  Then tighten my thigh muscles on it.  Then
slide up and down it, just a fraction of an inch at first, but then
more.  When I went down onto it another three or four inches I felt
a stab of pain at first, but at the same time a joyous pressure, I
lifted up and the pain eased, and I lowered again into pure joy
this time.  In another minute I was rolling and rocking and
bouncing on that staff like some lunatic, feeling a familiar
squirming pressure develop in my groin, intensify, become
excruciatingly beautiful, then surrender itself into a mellow
golden haze.  It all seemed over so soon!  I fell on Eden's neck
and sobbed like a girl.  That's what I felt myself to be.  She held
me and comforted me.

     "Yes, Eve.  I could tell.  It was beautiful for you.  You will
love being a woman.  A bisexual transgendered woman."  She patted
my shoulder, and tilted my head back, and kissed me on the lips. 
"Love men the way I love women," she said.

     A voice behind me, Beryl's, said, "Well, if you two girls
don't mind, Craig, or Eve if you prefer, will you lift yourself off
that thing so I can see whether or not it's done any damage?"
 
I hugged Eden's neck and lifted my rear up.  As it cleared the
dildo there was a distinct "plop!" sound, and my ass felt both sore
and empty.  "It's fine," Beryl's voice came after a moment.  "But
Eden, next time use a proper lubricant until you can get enough cum
into her to do the job no matter what.  We all love Craig, and
don't want to lose her to some technicality in your deflowering
rites.  Well, now that she's willingly fucked herself and seems
happy about it, you can do it properly to her."

     And that's what happened.  It seems Lisa was waiting behind me
for me to finish myself off, and then for Beryl's seal of approval. 
Without a word she sat down on the couch and spread her legs wide,
a twinkle in her eye and her twat open to the whole room.  "Here's
dinner, now, Craig.  Never mind her!."

     "Go ahead, Eve," Eden said.

     I did what I was told, and was on my hands and knees between
Lisa's knees lapping her up like a doggie when I felt that same
now-familiar pressure of the soft cock knob on my sore asshole
again.  Then a lunge, and the whole dildo slithered in, lubricated
with some thin slippery substance.  Then out, and then in.  Each
thrust against my bottom pushed my face further into Lisa's pussy,
and she grunted, then thrust back, until finally the three of us
were locked in a glorious pushing and pulling and thrusting and
licking rhythm that ended in an even more glorious orgasm for me
than the first time.  A few more slurps and Lisa was over the hill
also.

     When Eden pulled out, a warm liquid began to ooze down my leg. 
I reached down and wiped some onto my finger, then sniffed it. 
Cum?

     "That's right, pet," Eden said.  This dildo can squirt like
the real thing you used to carry between your legs.  I thought for
your first real ass reaming you should finish with the real thing
squirted into you and then left to dribble out.  Your next
cock sucking will also get you the same reward for meritorious
service.  Never mind whose.  I have my sources.  And now that we
know you are not a man, and there's no doubt that enough of you is
a woman, you can do me now."

     Well, Eden unstrapped the dildo and lay down on an arm of the
couch, and I struggled into the harness.  Then when it was firm on
my crotch, she unsnapped her bustier underneath and reached to
massage her pussy until it became wet.  It already was.  So I
pushed it into her, and with longer, slower, more lingering strokes
than my own short cock had ever allowed me, I brought her up and
over, then up and even higher to another peak, and then began again
until she cried out in a weak voice.   "Enough, Eve.  You can go
all day with it, I know, but I can't.  Thank you, dear!"

     As we dressed and prepared to go home, me by now wearing a
ladies' jogging suit better fitted to my wider butt and protruding
chest, Eden showed me how the dildo was constructed.  "You can see
it's hollow, with a tube leading through to the piss hole just like
the real thing.  That's where I can put a condom load of cum for
re-squirting, if I wish.  Or you can put in your soft prick and
bind it here, so you can feel some of the pussy pressures on this
better, bigger prick wrapped around it.  Think of a dildo like this
as a huge, thick rubber, strap-on condom.  All of the Club's dildos
have this feature.  I have a feeling you're going to be in big
demand here, fucking and getting fucked, now that your ass and your
prick have both been broken in."


