XXX Pom Pom Girly
My career plunges to new heights when I join a high class escort agency
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                    Pom Pom Girly

   Hi, all you sweet sissies! I really hope you'll like me, I'm Janice. 
Once I was a Pom Pom Girl in a beach show. It was great fun, dancing with my friends. I only wished my lovely job would continue the whole year round. 
Until last summer, during my college vacations, you could have watched me dancing with the girls on the sands at Margate. All twelve of us sported shiny white dresses with colored pompoms round the hem, and smaller pompoms on the neck, wrists, and on my ankle socks. My pompoms were all pink, other girls wore different colors.
The trouble was, when I left college and we closed for the winter, I found little chance for work and had to bum around, the one glimmer of joy on horizon was looking forward to being a pompom girl next summer. 
It was last September, when Miss Snow introduced herself to me.
Why she didn't ask any of the other girls, who knows?
It was the final week of the season, before the long dreary winter months set in, She approached me at the end of a show, as I was leaving for my digs with Carol, where we were both staying that summer.
Miss Snow was a tall slender lady, maybe early thirties, about ten years older than us two. She said she had enjoyed our show and liked my dancing and might be prepared to offer me a job.
I was embarrassed. Do you mean Carol? I asked her innocently.
No she wanted to talk to me. So, greatly excited, I parted from Carol, and accompanied Miss Snow to a nearby pub.
My mind was racing as she went to order us each a cocktail. Was this one of those devilish traps, to lure me into God knows what? No she didn't look that type. But my wild enthusiasm had become more sober, by the time she sat down next to me and explained her proposition.
She was an agent for Queens, I expect you've heard of us, she said.
I had to confess I hadn't. 
She told me this was a London based high class escort agency. No sex or anything like that, she assured me. She said she liked my poise and my demeanor and believed I am just the right sort of girl Queens are seeking. 
 I'd receive 50% of the fee charged to the client, which is normally £125 per hour, minimum £400, but this varies according to the client and late night hours are charged at a higher rate.
 We finished our drink, and I lay back and smiled at Miss Snow.
I promised her I'd think about it, and she gave me her contact number. Come up to my office in town and we can seal the deal.
In truth I was tempted, and the fact that I could visit her office was kinda reassuring. If it were some back street dump, I'd try not to yield to my inner voice which was urging me with all my heart to say Yes.

"Queens!" cried Carol when I confided in her. "You said you'd never heard of Queens! What did she say to that?"
"Well, she told me it was some escort agency."
"Is that all?" laughed Carol, "don't you know it's the top agency in London, attracting all the top celebs if they need someone to accompany them to a function. Wow, you are lucky! I wished she'd asked me. I'd have signed the papers there and then."
That ringing endorsement from Carol was certainly positive. However, I hadn't revealed to her my biggest worry. It wasn't something I cared to tell Miss Snow about either.
But I don't mind telling you, my dear sissy reader.
You see I am a crossdresser who loves to be a sissy 24/7. In fact I have been going about as a sissy for some years now, even before I started college. So good am I, if I can be so modest, that nobody has ever taken me for anything other than a sweet girl.  
Certainly no-one has ever told me as much to my face. Whether anyone has suspected, I don't know, but none of my eleven dancing girls had ever said anything. Certainly Miss Snow had taken me at face value.
So why shouldn't I escort some of the richest men around town? Or even rich ladies! Either would suit me. I rang Miss Snow and a date was fixed.

The office was certainly in no back street, for it was a plush glass fronted showroom in Shaftesbury Avenue. On the walls were large glossy framed pictures of the agency's girls.
 All wore the same uniform: a knee length bright white dress with a marked gold flash around the hemline, neck, and wrists. 
'High class' was an understatement- this was where all the trendy rich people came should they be lacking an escort. Photos of selected clients with their escorts included endorsements, a testimony to the high circles in which I would soon be moving. 
A lady receptionist, a real live person wearing this white uniform, looked at me inquiringly. Perhaps she thought I didn't belong here. I was wearing my seaside pompom dress, and maybe she thought I looked a little cheap.
I explained I had an appointment with Miss Snow, name of Janice.
The lady checked a sheet, she looked for one moment as though she was gonna have me ejected. But she smiled at me. Thank goodness.
She showed me into a corridor, off which were three or four rooms.
First on the left, she informed me.
I knocked politely and waited. No answer. I knocked more loudly.
"Come in," cried a voice I recognized as Miss Snow's.
"Won't keep you a minute," she indicated a seat for me. She was on the phone. I couldn't help feeling a tremor of excitement when I realized she was arranging a booking for a very well known rock star. I'd not seen him on tv or heard he was still recording, but he had once made a deep impression on me. I had bought his very first single.
Miss Snow daintily put down the receiver and turned to me.

"So Janice, you want to join us?"
I had carefully rehearsed my reply. I reckoned from what  Carol had hinted, that I was in a strong position, even though I was desperate to accept the job.
"Yes, Miss Snow, I am very interested. But I would like more than the 50% you pay."
There, I had got it out. I waited as she seemed to be reflecting. Was she thinking what a nerve of this slip of a girl with her silly pompoms?
No, thankfully she wasn't, as her next words indicated.
"I see. How much?"
It was my turn to play the waiting game. To be honest with you, I hadn't expected that reply. I thought she say five or ten per cent more, and that'd be that.
"I'll tell you why I asked you here," she said suddenly.
"As an escort, I think you'd be fine. But I really see you, Janice, as one of our special escorts.
Let me explain. As you know, all our escorts wear exactly the same white uniform with flashes of gold. But let me tell you that a few months ago, we began a special line in Sports Girls. Mandy is our Sports Girl, dressing in Queens' same basic colors, but what she wears is a silk blouse and pleated gymslip, something in the style of a Wimbledon tennis player. As she has proved a huge hit, the directors are looking to branch out on another line that several customers have inquired about. The Sissy Girl. And you are the perfect girl to provide this service."
My heart leaped with excitement. 
"When I saw you on the beach, I knew you'd be ideal as our sissy escort, we will adapt your pompom dress to fit in with our brand, I propose you have gold pompoms instead of those pink ones, otherwise your white dress is perfect for Queens."
She knew by my smiles she was on to a winner.
"And as a favor, if you prove satisfactory, as I'm sure you will, Queens will let you retain 80%."
It was an amazing offer  too good to refuse.
A couple of days later I returned for a fitting for my new Queens' pompom uniform.  
Carol had found out that that clients' Sports Girl rate was 20% higher than the usual charge.
I tackled Miss Snow on the matter. 
She admitted that for clients my rate was set at £150 per hour, minimum £500, but was very firm on the fact that she had generously offered me 80% of the normal rate, that is a minimum for me of £320, and we had agreed on that. It was more than most other girls were getting and I was a mere beginner.
I decided not to push my luck. But she did concede that if favorable reports were fed back about me, then she would be pleased  to consider an increase.  Not bad, I reflected, already talking of a pay rise when I hadn't even begun yet. I resolved to justify her unbounded faith in me, not just for the money, but because I really and truly did wanna provide an excellent service. This was more than a job for me.

My dress looked stunning, she produced a full length mirror for me to admire my appearance. If you're into sweet sissy looks, dear reader, you'd wanna have me as your escort, if you could afford me!
"Wonderful!" enthused Miss Snow, "every bit the look for which I was hoping, you look perfectly sweet Janice. Now all you have to do is act the same."
"Thank you Miss Snow. I will. Shall I twy and thspeak like a thiththy too?"
"Oh, that's an idea, tell you what, we'll put it down on one of the options the client can select, At Queens, we always try to carefully match their expectations. Oh sorry, Janice, I must sound like I am addressing a client. We recommend  you only have a maximum of three duties per week, but you can opt for less, if you prefer. It does depend of course on availability of our clients."
"Me will be happy to fit in, Mith Thnow."
"Good. Now before we finish today, I must go over the Rules of Queens with you."
"Yeth Mith Thnow."
"God, you do look sweet. Sorry, where was I? Yes, sorry about that," she gazed at me, almost lustfully I thought, "Most importantly, remember at all times Queens is High class in all things, in bearing, in treating of clients, in moral behavior. 
That brings me to an important issue I did touch on when we first met. 
It is essential to remember that Queens offers a No Sex rule."
"Me agwees," I interrupted. In my circumstances, it was safer that way. But might it be frustrating? 
"However," Miss Snow acknowledged my assertion positively, "I should tell you Janice that after the date is over, if a client asks, agents are free to negotiate a price if they also so wish, though Queens don't officially recognize or approve of this practice. That is entirely up to you, and is outside any Queen's jurisdiction, but I'm pleased that you wanna be a Virginal Queen!"
I am ashamed to tell you that I was wondering dizzily how much escorts could make on the side.
But I thanked Miss Snow and bid farewell, looking forward to being told when my first date will be.
Five days later I was back, waiting for my first date!
I was living in London now, I had rented my own room in a house with others of my own age. They seemed to accept the fact that I always wore my pink pompom dress, or a variation that Carol had given me in lemon yellow.
It was this I wore going to Queens that late afternoon. The rule was that we changed here, then in our Queens' uniform took a taxi to collect the client, or as in this case, be picked up from the office.
I greeted the receptionist with a look-at-me look that she evidently didn't approve of, then got changed in the room next to Miss Snow's. In my brand new Sissy Pompom uniform I knocked proudly at her door. 
"Come in Janice," called Miss Snow, "oh yes, that will please Mr T-. Sit down a minute while I brief you."
I sat, longing to hear about my first client. If I was a trifle disappointed, I tried not to show it. We are not told the identity of our client until immediately beforehand, maybe a matter of security?
"Mr T- is in his sixties, you probably have seen him on the back benches in parliament."
I mumbled something about vaguely recognizing him.
"His wife died some years ago, and he has used our services on three occasions. However this time he does wanna be accompanied by a sissy escort as you will be attending together a meeting with unmarried mothers. He'd like you to present a sweet innocent look, in contrast to the mothers perhaps," Miss Snow commented contentiously, "but he doesn't need you to  act babyish or talk sissy. He wants you to be chatting in a friendly way to the mothers, make them feel you like them. He's the minister for Family Affairs, and I expect his visit has something to do with the by-election in this South London constituency, and winning votes!" 
"I'll do my best Miss Snow."
"I'm sure you will." She leaned forward and kissed me. "Good luck. He's picking you up at seven and you should be back here by eleven. Wait in the reception, he should be here shortly."
I thanked her and went into the foyer, where one other escort was waiting.
"Hi, I'm Janice," I smiled.
"I'm Carole," she answered, "gosh you look sweet. You must be the new Sissy Girl we're all talking about."
I beamed at her. She was pointing admiringly to a photo on the wall. It was me, lovely me, in my Queen's pompom uniform!
"You been here long?" I asked Carole.
"Oh this'll be my fiftieth date."
"You enjoy it then?"
"Yes. I guess this is your first time. Good luck girly."
She leaned over, giving me a sissykiss."
I wanted to ask her more, but Mr T- had just reported at reception. 
I walked up to him, and did a half curtsy. He clearly liked what he saw and shook my hand pleasantly. Very formal I thought, but heigh-ho, I'll be earning nearly £400, that's compensation enough. But I hoped he wasn't harboring any notions of sex, that's definitely out. No, he's not the type, I decided, with some relief.

Shortly before eleven, he returned me to the Queens' office. He'd acted very properly, no request for sex. I was kinda disappointed that he hadn't even asked, though glad that I didn't have to reject him.  My pride was hurt that he hadn't even mentioned the notion. I felt I had pleased him. Certainly he had thanked me politely before shaking  me by the hand and bidding me goodnight.
I had chatted to the unmarried girls as he had wished. One of them had asked where she could buy an outfit like mine. Another had told me I was an angel. I think I was a contrast to their drab routines, and I hope I encouraged some to think more positively about themselves.
But I wasn't sure if I had matched up to his expectations.
A report was emailed to me next day.
The client had expressed himself very pleased, which was unexpectedly positive, though the reason for this had more to do with the fact that he reckoned I had won his party a few more votes.
The client is always right, I told myself. I hadn't gone there to win votes for him, but then I reflected, I had gone there to please him, and that I had done, that was what counted.

My next date was much younger, maybe even younger than me. A lot more attractive. He was Jon, an upcoming singer who was touring the country with one night stands. Reviews were encouraging, Miss Snow explained, and according to him two companies were currently competing for recording rights.
My task was to dance in the background to a couple of his songs he was trying out for the first time. They were Sissy Girl, and Beach Girls.
He was performing two shows in a West London venue (nowhere near the West End however), so I would have four spots to dance to. The rest of the time I could sit in his dressing room, or watch the other songs.
"It seems an expensive way to hire a dancer," I commented to Miss Snow.
Apparently, his agent had seen my photo and thought I'd be ideal. Miss Snow was keen too, for my wearing the uniform would bring publicity for Queens.
Jon met me at the office. He was a fresh faced lad, very open, I liked him. In fact I offered to dance in some of his other numbers if he wanted me to.
He was grateful, and slotted me in to two other lively songs.
"You'd better change out of your uniform though," he added, "they're not at all sissy like." So I did.
I liked the Sissy Girl number, because I was able to show off in front of the audience who applauded at one stage when I kicked my legs high. The Beach Girls number was with three other girls, all in bikinis, and I felt rather overdressed.
A quick change into a skimpy pvc skirt and silk top and I joined in Change Your Mind and So Sexy.
Before the second show I had time to chat with Jon in his dressing room.
After chatting about his career and his aspirations, he blurted out, "Like to come back to my place after?"
"How much?" I asked. I had been dying to know what the going rate was.
"£250 extra, more if you're good!" he promised. 
My curiosity satisfied, I gave him a firm no.
He asked, "not enough?"
"Oh no," I half apologized, "it's not that Jon. Sorry I can't explain more."
The rest of the evening went well, and we parted amicably enough. He wanted to know if I'd dance for him again, "private arrangement."
I guessed he couldn't afford Queens' prices every night.
But I turned him down. What he was offering didn't compare with what Queens were paying me.I guessed he thought I was on a 50% share of his fee. As it was for the six hours I had gotten myself £600.
As I waited for a taxi to take me home (the company paid for such necessary services), I bumped into Carole.
"Enjoy your date sweetie?" she asked.
"Yeah, I was dancing, how about you?"
"Oh my client was a bit stuffy. He took me to a show but only wanted sex. I turned him down. I don't like gropers, and he was that sort."
"Do you often have sex?" I asked excitedly.
"Perhaps every other time, sweetie. Depends on who you're with."
"How much do you ask for, if, er, if you don't mind me asking?"
"No not at all," she replied breezily. "I mostly go by how much I like them, as well as how rich and generous they've been on our date."
"What's the most you've got?" I asked excitedly.
"Oh, that's easy. This Arab guy offered me any amount I cared to name. I suppose money didn't mean much to him. I said a thousand. He said, for the full job. I said fifteen hundred, and we did it. Richest half hour of my life," she sighed, "he had a big dick too."
"Thanks for telling me."
"No prob, sweetie. I'd say on average I get around £400 or £500 on top of my commission from Queens. Oh, and my favorite moment was sex with a titled lady! She was outwardly so very prim, but boy, when we got going, she was great!"

My next client was a well known Footballer, I'll give him the name Rod. 
He was different from my two previous experiences.
He required me to pose as his daughter at a sporting awards ceremony. As he was only ten years at most older than I, this took some believing. However the client is always right, I told myself.
Actually he had no daughter and he had split with his partner last week. So I was an emergency last minute stand in. 
He needed me to be like his daughter, so I could make him appear older. If that makes sense. He was one of three nominated for a lifetime award, which hardly meant 'lifetime,' but was for the player who had contributed most to the game off the pitch. 
He had the reputation  as a womanizer as I soon found out.
As we sat at a table with three others from his team and their partners, he asked me openly if I'd have sex afterwards.
I blushed, the ladies tittered, the other players laughed.
When I turned him down, it was I who got the laugh.
Thereafter he seemed very infatuated with me, and several times, less publicly,  asked for sex. 
I skirted round the issue. 
He offered £500. Then £600. Finally £750.
My answer was the same, though I tried to reassure him that it wasn't because I didn't find him attractive.
He apologized for his persistence. Apparently it was an unwritten rule that if you were turned down, you should not ask a second time, unless the escort is wavering.
As we waited for his big nomination, he took me over to another table and introduced me to Miss Helene.
She was a slinky girl in a deep black dress, similar in style to the normal dress that Queens girls wear, except for the color. Even the gold flash is the same. Stunning shapely figure, dark hair almost jet black, eyes of deepest blue. As soon as I met her, I knew she meant trouble. I couldn't help gazing at her, admiring her, I was lusting for her, I admit, not the best thing to be doing when you're on a date with a rich client.
I think Rod must have noticed. Luckily, he was called by his agent on the phone and briefly leaves us.
My eyes couldn't keep away from this Helene. What a figure. What a girl! I know I am infatuated with her. She talked to me as though unaware of my feelings. I simply had to say something. But I couldn't, for Rod came back smiling. His agent had negotiated a new contract.
I must tell you how hard I found it to concentrate. I probably wasn't sympathetic enough when he failed to secure the award. It would have been a shock if he had won, I thought uncharitably.
He was moody the rest of the evening, and I had to admit I didn't help cheer him up. He asked a couple more times if he could take me, saying he was sure he could give me a great time. I thanked him but politely declined his offer, in fact I was more busy try to catch Miss Helene's eye.
I did have one chance when I made for the rest room to ask Miss Helene if she'd let me date her. (You understand that I always use the girls room, and sit to pee like any good girly.)
Miss Helene thanked me, only saying she'd think about it. But she never gave her reply that evening, to my immense frustration.
My client satisfaction form that I was emailed next morning was unsurprisingly only average. Quite my worst result. I sent my reply back to Miss Snow, "sorry, my fault, though he did ask for sex so often, it was embarrassing."
Miss Snow texted back, that she would have words with Rod if he ever used Queens again.
I was reading this, when in the communal entrance of my digs, I heard Miss Helene's sweet voice.
 I beamed at her.
"Come in," I invited her into my tiny bedsit. 
She says she hoped I didn't mind. She had followed me from Queens to here last night. It never occurred to me to ask her why. I simply feasted my eyes on her. Maybe in the bright light of day she looks slightly o lder, more business like, blue eyes more pale than I remembered. But I only knew I went weak in her presence. Her dress was black again, but she wore black pompoms as if in imitation of my style, which was very flattering.
She was talking as I made coffee, hanging on to her every word. She explained she runs HCH, which is Helene's Companion Hostesses, a new agency, and she very much wants me to join.
I'd love to, though I don't tell her that, because I don't want to mix business with pleasure. 
"Please think about it, Janice," she begs. 
I promise I will and she tells me how much more relaxed her company is, compared with Queens.
"You'll love working for us," Miss Helene promised. She got up and sat next to me. I trembled as she gave me a sissykiss. The pompoms on her black dress got caught in  my pompoms, and we laughed as we untangled them.
"I'll phone this afternoon," she promised, "or can you come and see me?"
I took the address, a myriad of feelings running in my breast. 

I texted Miss Snow. 
Her reply ran as follows: Avoid this new agency. HCH is two months old but already has bad reputation in the business. Popularly known as High Class Hookers.
Deciding her answer smacked of utter jealousy, I went along to meet Miss Helene.
Her office wasn't along the same luxurious lines as Queens, though in the same road, behind a theater. But though it didn't create a first favorable impression, decorators were hard at work, giving the promise of better things. And certainly there was an air of spaciousness.
"Hi Janice!" It was Miss Helene herself strutting towards me, all conquering, turning me to jelly. "Come to my office, darling."
We step from the main room into a wide corridor that leads to her office.
"Plenty of space here," I commented as we reached her door.
"Yeah, sorry it is still being done up. But by next week you'll hardly recognize the place. We have eight rooms here which are being done up to entertain clients."
"I see."
"Look, let me show you the one that is already finished." 
She moved to the adjacent room and proudly pushed open the door.
It was certainly sumptuous, rich red flock wallpaper, thick red carpet, a comfortable antique-style settee, a four poster bed, in one corner a shower and en suite.
"You could have a room like this, only more suited to your pompoms. When you join us, you can have it decorated any way you like."
We finally sat down to do business in her efficient looking office, a mile away in style from the room we had left.
"We can offer you a 50-50 deal on fees," was her opening gambit.
"I'd want more," I replied.
"Yeah darling, but at HCH we provide all the facilities, unlike, I might say, your present employer."
"But do you really need those expensive quarters for us escorts?" I inquired naively.
She gave a short laugh.
"Well you do, if you provide all the services that clients want. Here is an environment in which you can not only feel safe, but also at home, for your room is tailored to your own requirements."
I began to understand the drift of her meaning.
"We're not like old fashioned Queens," she continued, "where you both have to negotiate the prices. Nor do we bump prices up for ultra well-off clients."
"Carole told me she earned over a thousand as well as her normal fee," I interjected.
"Yeah darling, but my research suggests she normally earns under than half that.
Our charge works out at £175 per hour, minimum £750. After 11pm is double rate. There is one optional extra, but nothing else."
I don't know why I was asking Miss Helene. It wasn't for me.
I told her so.
"But why not, darling?" she asked, drawing closer to me. 
I had to steel myself to avoid becoming jelly again.
"I just like to be a nice thweet ethcort," I answered, lamely lapsing into sissy speak.
"Well darling, I did a survey, and over 90% of clients want sex, and unlike Queens, we don't mean to disappoint them."
"Me might conthider it if you waised my fee," I offered.
"Well your sissy chit chat will definitely please some of our clients darling, but leave it for them. All our escorts receive half the fee, and our policy is to treat everyone the same. I did hear Queens might be paying some favored escorts more, but you can be sure we treat you all fairly."
I didn't like to tell her my percentage cut. I was better off at Queens, and happy in some ways to avoid sexual contact, no, I'll be honest, I'd like that, if only I had the confidence.
"Do reconsider Janice. I know why you're saying no. I've got a client to see to, but I'll be back in ten minutes, and you can give me the answer then, or go away and sleep on it if you must."
She didn't wait for my answer. I had been about to leave. Now I was stranded with my thoughts, my conscience, and my calculations over whether her offer was financially an  improvement. I loved the notion, if I was honest with you, of having my own room, decorated to my own tastes.
I was wavering when she returned in less than ten minutes.

Wow, she looked stunning. She'd done her hair so it glistened black more, I was feeling all weak when she began looking with those eyes right into me.
They seemed much darker blue now. Was it some trick?
"I know why you said no," she repeated, "though I believe you wanna say yes!"
I didn't understand how she could possibly know I am getting 80%. But Miss Helene didn't mean that, as I learned the next second with a thunderbolt.
"You're not a girl are you Janice?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't. How could she know? No-one has known. She might have guessed. Yes, that's it, she's guessing. She's trying to catch me out.
I broke the silence.
"I think that decides me. I can't work for HCH." I got up.
She pushed me down. Even her touch made me feel weak, and I obediently sat down stunned.
"A girl can tell, Janice. One or two giveaways, oh, I admit you are almost the perfect girl, perhaps a little too sissy and perfect, but I know, oh yeah, I know."
"You don't, Miss Helene, I'm sorry I must go now."
Her hand reached over, and this time she held me by the arm. She gazed into my eyes and I knew I couldn't win.
"Okay, okay, you're ... you're right," I conceded.
"Course I am," she smiled at me and kissed me on the lips. "I know the signs. You were dying for me to kiss you, weren't you, Janice?"
I nodded staring at her beautiful face.
"Go on then," she urged.
I couldn't help it. She could tell I was ejaculating into my pompom pantie.
"That's better, darling. Go away and think about it. We have plenty of clients, male and female, who crave to take a sissy like you!"

Undecided, though tempted, will describe for you my feelings over the next few days. It wasn't financially beneficial, but to be near Miss Helene, that was my one desire now in life. Even if I had to sell my body.
I didn't see her. I wanted to. I went to her office once, but she was out. Oh, if only I could see her.
My next job for Queens was a very pleasant one.
A tv company invited me to be one of the judges in the Miss Sissy tv contest. My other judge was my companion, a well known tv personality, but I mustn't tell you his real name. I'll call him Dave.
It was a lovely day, attending the run thru with Dave, and  meeting informally the twelve contestants. For me, I was able to speak Thiththy and be my true self, putting aside for the present my lusting after Miss Helene.
"You should have entered," Dave joked, "you'd be sure to win, Janice."
Flattered, I spent that afternoon in an aura of happy emotions, and the actual live show went tremendously well too.
"De winner ith," I announced, "Mith Margate." Wild cheers, a wreath adorned the winner. It was my old acquaintance Carol. I admit I might have been biased.
Afterwards the winner thanked me and  jealously admired my new Queens pompom uniform.
I think Dave overheard our small talk and, though I was hoping he wouldn't ask, he proved one of Miss Helene's 90%. 
I politely declined with, "me ith sowwy, but de good thiththy girl never thays yeth to dat."
He attempted some bluster suggesting the contest had been rigged by me, I kicked him in the groin. Perhaps a good sissy should not have done that.
I received another mediocre appraisal as a result. Things seemed to be pushing me inexorably towards HCH. However for my ten hours, I did receive a thousand pounds, and I promised Miss Snow I'd not let her down ever again.

Rod was my next client. Rod again.
Miss Snow told me he had promised to behave himself, not even ask for sex. He was sorry he had overstepped Queens' rules, and what with me slightly in Queens' bad books, perhaps Miss Snow reckoned that two in her black books might become a perfect Queens white.
I was waiting for him in the foyer.
I bumped into Carole, who was out of uniform.
"Going home?" I asked, "had a good date?"
"Oh hi Janice.  No, I've been to tell Miss Snow I'm leaving."
"Sorry about that. Met a nice feller?"
"No, I was head hunted by HCH, and the pay and conditions are much better... for a naughty girl like me!"
"Are you getting a good rate?" I asked inquisitively.
"Oh yeah,  great. You ought to think of changing."
I didn't tell her I was.
"Though a sweet girlie like you belongs much better here."
"Good luck," I cried as she left, her last comment pounding thru my brain.
Yes I do belong here.
The evening was lovely.
And profitable.
I am putting Miss Helene out of my mind, I am determined on that. I am a sweet pompom girly, aren't I? Yes, I told myself emphatically.
Rod was very contrite when he met this pretty  pompom girly. 
He repeated to me his promise to Miss Snow that he was gonna be extra good, he made no mention about sex, though that was what he meant by being extra good. Frankly, dear reader, if I'd been a girl, I would have let him take me, so muddled were my feelings at the minute.
Our evening was a dinner dance at a royal palace (though not The royal palace, I should tell you). I had been warned in advance not to eat too much during the day.
"Mr Rod - and daughter," the master of ceremonies had thus introduced us to the royal host.
It was a glittering affair, I bathed in the famous footballer's presence and in the adulation he received as we took our seating at one of the many tables for six.
With a jolt, I saw we were sharing with Carole, in her new High Class Hooker's uniform, and her man for the night, a famous company director, whose reputation for dubious deals is legendary.
We kissed each other warmly. Carole's date gave me a smacker on the lips which earned my immediate reproof.
"Pwease do not do dat, Mithter Thmith," I scolded. I could see the lust in his eyes, and I enjoyed showing him up.
Suitably reproved, he cuddled up to Carole. I don't imagine any of his employees ever scolded him like that.
"Sir Colin - and Miss Helene Sparks," the announcement came for two latecomers.
My heart raced when I saw it was my Miss Helene. But who was she with? Was she on a job? I hoped not.
"Must be we're on the escorts' table," Rod quipped as the couple filled the vacant seats in our corner.
Sir Colin, that well known barrister, kissed me very pleasantly on the cheeks, I did one of my little curtsies.
Then as in all the best circles, he introduced me,
"This is Miss Helene, have you met?"
I stuttered something about yes we had as she hugged me.
 Same beautiful figure that cut such a shapely look in her black uniform, and that shining black hair and those eyes, yes they really are deep blue. 
"Yes, we've met," answered Miss Helene, and whispered in my ear, "and she can't help herself, can she little girly? Do it for me now darling."
As Miss HeIene penetrated my eyes but made small talk to the rest of the table, my resolve crumbled and with a gasp I realized what she was making me do, I simply could not resist, and before I knew it I had soiled my pantie. Full of my lusting cum, I wriggled uncomfortably. At least my dress hid my shame.
She knew, oh yes she knew my predicament, and gave me a wink. Thankfully, I don't think any of the others had cottoned on.
I ate all the courses of the meal, with an uncomfortable feeling of wetness in my nether regions. I think I even detected the smell of the cum, I know Miss Helene sitting next to me did, for twice she nodded at me,  looking down. But the smell of the food was more potent than my secret offering and when the time came round to dance, I was loving the sensation, like some naughty little girl hiding a deep secret.
"Let's dance, baby," Rod asked me, perhaps he had imbibed his fair share of champagne, for he was not exactly steady as he stood up. I got up and took his hand.
"Oh look," cried Miss Helene loudly, "your chair has a damp patch! Shall I get them to bring you another?" 
General stares at the offending seat. What they made of the marks I do not like to imagine. I knew what it was, and I blushed.
Hastily I moved away to dance with Rod. I felt some explanation might be due as he had been next to me and had stared long and hard at the chair.
"You thee, me ith a wittle girly, and thometimes me does wittle wee wees. Sowwy, Wod."
"That's quite all right, kid," he half laughed. And we joined in several dances, the only problem was in the liveliest one I did send a few stray droplets of cum flying around the dance floor. But of course nobody noticed, though I wonder if later someone might have puzzled over how those spots got on their clothing.
After several happy dances, Miss Helene came up and suggested we visit the girls room together.
Rod must have been expecting it, I decided later, for he told me to "hurry along."
I needed no encouragement. I wanted to hear what Miss Helene had to say.

One of the cubicles was occupied. I could hear peeing.
Miss Helene pointed to the adjacent loo, then shocked me by coming inside as well, and turning the  indicator to Engaged.
"Pull your pants down," she ordered. The girl next door might be thinking it's a mother with her little girl, though I'll be honest and tell you that I hadn't seen any youngsters at the function. But this was all I could hope, as I silently, and proudly pulled down my pompom pantie.
Miss Helene stared at the damp thing now lying between my feet.
"It's very damp, darling."
I nodded, petrified of what the listener might be thinking. For she had stopped peeing, what was she doing now? Listening in?
"Sit on the seat, like a good girly."
I obeyed, half aroused, half scared.
The lady next door flushed the loo and we heard her leave to wash her hands.
"Yeth mummy," I whispered, thinking the flushing would drown my reply. But it sounded unnaturally loud.
"Lay back a little, please darling."
What the listener was making of this, I didn't dare imagine.
Miss Helene pushed me so I was half reclining, at 45 degrees. She could now see my dick dangling, and one look from Miss Helene had it glowing and erect.
"That's a good girl," she cooed.
Did she want me to pee?  I would find it difficult in this state, besides it would spray up over the floor.
The washing sounds outside ceased. The hand blower whirred.
"Stay there," ordered Miss Helene without further explanation.
I hadn't heard the nosy lady leave. She was very quiet if she was still there.
Miss Helene pulled down her own black pantie. I craned my neck to see more, but she disappointed me and turned her back on me. All I saw was her pantie which I was sure boasted a few damp patches. Yes, she was enjoying this.
Have you guessed, dear reader, what she did next?
She dumped her lithe form, pressing it- oh what a glorious sensation!- against mine, her black dress rustling against my white one. Her pussy landed as near the base of my erect dick as she could make. She pulled my hands so they squeezed round my waist and I was in heaven. 
Then she lifted her dress so she could see, and by stretching my neck I could see my  captured dick poking high in the air. Though it had only recently spent at her behest, I knew it was gonna make her another tiny offering any time soon.
Then a warmth enveloped it. Sounds of pee trickling over it, down my balls and into the pan below. She grunted as though experiencing a mini orgasm. 
It triggered my ejaculation as I happily sprayed a silver present into the air. A handful she captured and thrust into her mouth, gobbling voraciously.
She stood up, lifted her pantie to my immense regret, and turned round and smiled.
She pulled me up, I in a complete daze of pleasure, and pulled my pantie, still wet, over my fading dick and balls, also damp with her pee.
"Tank you," was all I said.
But we had not yet finished.
She pointed to the remnants of my cum adorning the floor.
I was bewildered. She pushed my head and made me crouch on all fours.
I had to lick it up.
Then hand in hand we emerged. The lady was still there, standing by the dryer, flushed, masturbating herself.
As we left her behind, I asked Miss Helene if this Sir Colin was a client, or, er...
She gave a reassuring reply.
"Darling, I'd never have done that with him!"
Somehow, we didn't need to talk about HCH. 
We rejoined Rod, who was dancing with Carole.
"Had a good time?" they chorused, as though they were in on our secret.
As Rod chatted with Miss Helene, I asked Carole what percentage of the fee she was getting.
But her openness deserted her, and she only told me that it was "much better than Queens."
Rod was very gracious, a contrast to his persistence on our first date.
As we were hailing a taxi I took the chance to say,
"thanks for the evening, Rod. Is there anything you want to say to me?"
He gave me a sharp look. Then grinned and said,
"Yeah actually. Are you joining HCH?"
But I wouldn't tell him that. My suspicion was that he and Miss Helene had wangled our sitting together. Maybe Carole was in on it too, that's why she was getting a bigger cut?

Next afternoon saw me, without an appointment at the HCH office. I was wearing my favorite old white dress, the one with the pink pompoms. I wanted to go and I didn't wanna go, I couldn't help myself, and I wouldn't join unless I received a bigger cut. 60% at least, I'll ask for 80, I had determined beforehand.
"I knew you'd come," Miss Helene greeted me.
She looked more business like today, in her streamlined office. Her eyes were paler blue. Is she like a chameleon?
It is not easy doing business with a woman who has humiliated you in a public toilet, even if the experience was thoroughly pleasurable.
She produced the papers for me to sign.
Now was my chance to negotiate that deal. 
"It says 50-50 split in the fees," I objected.
"Yeah darling, I've always told you that."
"But Carole is getting more."
It was a stab in the dark, but I believed I had got it right.
She didn't answer directly. Instead she replied,
"Have a look at the room we are preparing for. You can have it furnished any way you like. End room this side. Go on, you know you want to."
"Well, I am still not promising. But okay, end room on the left you said."
"Yeah Janice. Have a look round and think what improvements you'd like. Anything within reason. I'll join you there in a few mins."
We both left her office, she pointed out the end room for me, then went into another of the rooms.

'Miss Janice' was typed in large pink gothic script on the door,  rather presumptuously.
Inside it smelled of fresh paint. Pink paint. Very twee.
There was an old chair, which I assumed was temporary, a flash shower in the far corner, a toilet cubicle, and  plenty of space for what I wanted.
I imagined what else: a nice settee, like that one in the red room I had seen, though in a dark pink with gold cushions. Yes, and a black single bed, that would fit with their color scheme, and I'd love to see pompoms on the wall, about head height, on a rail that goes all round the room, that move along the rails if you press a button....
No, hold on, this isn't my room yet, is it?
I glanced at the document she had left me.
The words leaped from the page Fifty Percent.
Wait a mo, it should be a double bed shouldn't it? What do you think, my reader?
I expect you'd have it decorated differently.
No, this is a fantasy, I told myself. Get real. Get back to being the sweet pompom girl Queens has made you.
Yet I knew in my heart of hearts that I couldn't play that part again.
"How would you like the room?" the returning Miss Helene asked. 
"I've lots of lovely ideas," I answered, "But I'm afraid I am not taking anything less than, than well, 60%."
I had compromised myself, but heigh-ho, deep down I wanted  to join even if she'd offered me even less!
Miss Helene shook her head. Her reply was a stunner.
"Of course, we at HCH do not want to expose who you really are to Miss Snow, she might not understand."
I wasn't gonna yield to blackmail, however dangerous. I got up and made for the door.
She grabbed me. I was back in the jelly mode. I looked wearily at her.
"You're a determined girl Miss Janice. Come on, relax, no need to get angry about it."
She took me to the toilet, and its first ever use was for that same wonderful contact between us. Only this time she didn't take down my pantie. 
As her wee drifted warmly over the pantie, I felt a surge of ecstasy and cum flooded my pantie.
"Thanks," I said as she turned round to kiss me.
She pulled me up, I didn't want to leave the happy little room, I wanted to stay to savor and smell our happy moment, but she took me to the old chair, sat in it and plopped me on her lap. It must have made her wet also. The bond between us was deepened.
"Will you have sex with me?" was my simple request.
"If you join," was her reply, "and when you have proved, as I am sure you will, how good an escort you are."
"When will that be?"
"I'm sure it will be very soon."
I took the pen she was offering, to sign my life away.
"Could I live here?" I asked with a sudden inspiration.
"Of course, my darling," she said as though that were entirely obvious.
That will save my rent, so I signed forthwith.

I'll never forget the day I moved in to my new 'digs.' I had a small cupboard for my few personal possessions. They dwarfed into insignificance beside the magnificent way the room had been furnished. Most striking of all was my fantasy pompom rail, with twelve large fluffy pompoms.
"Like it?" it was Miss Helene, "I'd heard you had arrived."
Those deep blue eyes penetrated my very soul, and I knew this was a love project for her.
"Thank you so much, Miss Helene, it's beyond what I even dreamed."
I kissed her.
"Look," she showed me a button in the settee. Having pressed it the pompoms moved slowly along the rail, around the room. Another press and they sped up.
"That button there's for the tv, if you are ever alone, look!"
At her press it emerged from a wall.
One other button was for music, a choice of moods. One track was Sissy Girl, as recorded by Jon.
"Me danced to dat," I exclaimed.
"Yeah darling, we  have the show with you dancing it with him. You can see it on the tv."
"This is utter paradise," I exclaimed. Then my eyes strayed to the large four poster, covered by black curtains.
I pulled one open, a feast of black silk, with gold pompoms on the edge of the bedspread and little pompoms along the edge of each black pillow. Truly this was a real tart's bed.
That thought arrested my new found joy.
"Oh don't worry," cried Miss Helene, "I know what you're thinking."
She was already pulling me by her gentle hand into the main corridor. In the newly refurbished entrance foyer, she unveiled a large picture, next to photos of her other escorts, including a  flirtatious Carole. There was no photo in the frame! 
"We're gonna take your picture as soon as you have made yourself cozy in your new HCH. We want one of you in uniform," she explained. However she showed me the wording in bold print underneath where my photo would be.
Miss Janice - High Class Pompom Shemale.
"If you're happy with that, it'll go on our brochure and online too."
I could not think of any better way of putting across what I could offer. With utter abandon, I turned and kissed her.
Another escort was entering with a client. Her face with thick with make up, his with lust. He was ready for the kill. "That's Shirley," whispered Miss Helene.
Quickly we moved back to my room. Next door, we were able to hear Shirley busy at work.
"You'd like to try on your uniform, darling? It's in the wardrobe."
She fetched it out, a beautiful variation on the regular black uniform Miss Helene was wearing. Pompoms were in all the right places, just as she had promised. It was like what she had been wearing when she first called at my digs, only shinier, slinkier, the pompoms more golden.
"You didn't ask for a mirror, so what I'd like to do darling, is show you what it looks like on."
She didn't wait for me to answer, she must have had a strong yearning to wear it herself. She stripped off her HCH uniform, dress first, and I admired her lithe form, her sweet little breasts cupped by a small bra, in black of course. Then she aroused me even more by stripping off her satin pantie.
There she stood before me in bra and high heels.
I went to kiss her.
"Let me try it on, please Janice," and I stepped back, too aroused to speak.
Pompom black pantie first, then the main dress, a shimmering delight of black and gold with those big pompoms bouncing around as she moved.
"Now you can kiss me," she said.
"I will," I said as though sealing our union.
"You want to, don't you?" she knew me so well.
"Me does, me weally does Mith Helene."
"Soon darling, but you can cum for me now... that's it..."
She had pulled down my pantie. We collapse together on the pink settee.
I was putty in her hands.
"I'm cumming!" I cried trying to pull away. I didn't want to soil the new dress she was wearing.
She however had other ideas. She held me. I knew that she wanted my cum on that dress. It made me the more excited and I surged my offering into her lap, christening my new dress, perhaps the first of several such offerings it would be happily receiving.
We kissed anew. Then she carefully stripped before me, ensuring the cum didn't drip on the expensive carpet.
I was becoming aroused again!
"Put it on," she ordered. I obeyed.
A massive stain indicated where I had ejaculated on her lap.
It was still shining as if searching for someone to fertilize. As I sat down again, I felt the wetness start to soak my new pompom pantie. It was delicious.
"Can you cum for Miss Helene again?" she cooed.
"I'll twy," I promised. But I didn't need to try hard, cos she only had to look at me and I was burning, and in a few seconds I warned her I was ready.
"Just as you are, darling."
I did as she told me, she holding me, feeling the pulsing of my body in its excitement.
"There, you are cummy inside and out now," she giggled. "Oh, I forgot, your first client is coming in two hours. Don't get changed will you?"

My anticipation was becoming unbearable, before Miss Helene finally reappeared in my room, for my briefing about my first client.
She looked colder, though still lovely. More efficient, less passionate. Oh well, this was business. And her eyes looked paler too.
"There, you do look sweet," she exclaimed. She surveyed me up and down, as though I were some soldier on parade.
She noted my cummy stains with some surprise, which surprised me. I thought I was gonna be ticked off, but then as though remembering,  she said "ah," to herself, and lifted the hem of my pompom dress, to examine my soiled pantie.
"Yeah, that will do nicely."
She looked up and smiled at me.
"Ready for your first date?"
"Yeth mith."
"Well, that's perfect. I was gonna say Rev Brown is your client and he has asked for a sissy girl, so of course you were the one for us to choose."
"Why he want a thiththy, do we know?" I asked. It would help to find out, so I could behave accordingly.
"No Miss Janice, it seems strange. He is attending a theological conference this evening. It's his old alma mater."
"Sounds a bit dull!"
"Well yes and no. Everyone has a partner, it sounds like a sort of 'vicars and tarts' evening, but you'll fit in as best you can I'm sure Janice."
"Me will twy, Mith Helene, what thort of thex doeth he wequire?" 
This was a key question for sweet little me.
"Oh I am afraid that is not something we reveal to escorts."
"You thound more like dem people at Queens. Mith Thnow was always  going on 'bout sticking to de wules. Can't you tell wittle me?"
I was worried if I am honest with you.
"Well, Janice, if I simply said he is pretty harmless, that will help won't it?"
"Dey do thay if dey don't want thex don't dey?"
"Yeah that's true. No, he told me he did!"

Rev Brown was a mild mannered middle aged man dressed all in black- like me. I suppose all priests wear black, so perhaps that wasn't so much a coincidence.
Miss Helene ushered him into my room promptly at six thirty.
He greeted me very formally with a handshake, as we found ourselves alone.
"You're very pretty," he commented.
"Tank you thir," I responded, with a tiny curtsy.
That pleased him. But I didn't know what to make of him.
"You've been told about our conference?"
"A wittle."
"Right, I'll take you there. Shall we go?"
I had reached the door, when he asked.
"Won't you need a coat, it's cold tonight?"
"Oh we always take taxis."
"I see," he appeared worried. "Would it be too much to ask you to take the Tube tonight?"
I wasn't sure of the HCH rule on this, but I answered, "oh it doesn't bother me." I put on my only overcoat, at least it was black. I didn't button it, as I did so want to show off my new uniform.
In the foyer, Miss Helene waved us goodbye. her look suggesting my coat was not the right thing.
I enjoyed admiring glances from fellow passengers, so I opened my coat so more of my pompom dress was revealed.
At the conference, having discarded my coat, we joined around fifty other pairs. All the girls looked considerably more 'tarty' than myself. As I was drawing lots of admiring glances, as well as some pleasing compliments. I noticed a few female vicars, with attractive male escorts, but also one with a girl, in Queen's uniform. I didn't recognize her.
I have to admit that the first hour was utterly boring. A talk on an Old Testament passage was followed by a heated discussion about points that were way over my head.
Then it was like a cork had been popped, as the second part of the evening started.
A dance, for vicars and their partners.
A few drinks and soon things had become much livelier.
Some of the vicars on the dance floor were smooching with their partners in an old fashioned way, some were seated and kissing. One tart I saw on a vicar's lap. The Queens escort was kissing her lady vicar. My sober soul was chatting about issues raised in the Old Testament discussion, I nodding politely.
It was something like relief when his hand strayed on top of mine.
"I-I have to go to the loo."
"Oh okay Wev Bwown." I was grateful for some relief from his boring conversation.
"I-I am rather short sighted you know. So I wonder, would you kindly show me where to go?"
"Of courthe, thir."
I got up and indicated the direction. His hand slipped into mine.
"Take me," he begged.
"Oh very well." Afterwards I reflected that maybe the subtle old scholar had meant his request in more ways than one.
"Here we are thir."
"Can you show me where exactly, miss?"
"It'th here," I cried, impatiently.
"Take me in," he asked.
I suddenly wondered if this was it. He wanted me to go in with him. 
"Me can't go in de Mens," I stated.
He pointed to the Disabled Cubicle. His eyesight wasn't that bad.
it was he who was showing me the way now.
The catch was fastened. we were inside. Was this shades of my happy experience with Miss Helene?
"Thank you, miss," he sounded relieved to be here but also very nervous.
Now it was I who became a stickler for regulations.
"Me can't wait here thir."
"Oh please miss."
"De pwoper place is in my woom," I insisted.
He chose not to dispute with me.
Instead he pulled down his pants and sat on the loo seat with a sigh.
His dick was tight and beaming at me. He wasn't such a wimp as I had imagined.
"Please," he begged, looking down at his giant erection.
"Oh vewy well, revewend, anyting to pwease you. How you want it?" I inquired in a tone that hinted this was for me merely one job among so many. However I was shaking myself, like him.
He opened his mouth.
Then I knelt down in front of him, on the hard toilet floor. Memories of licking cum in Miss Helene's presence buoyed me, as I looked down the long elongated shaft of his cock.
He put his quivering hand on my head like priests do when pronouncing a blessing. He was talking to himself, I imagined it might be some prayer begging forgiveness for such brazen wickedness.
Or perhaps it was for his own soul, as I spied a drip squeezing out of the enlarged hole at his tip.
"Now please," he begged.
My mouth went joyously in, welcoming the pleasant object, my tongue began to lick- it was so hot! Seconds later the heat expelled his foamy cum as he grunted satisfaction and my mouth was filled to overflowing.
You had a lot of stuff pent up in there, I thought to myself!
He pulled me up, His only close contact of the night.
I was in the process of swallowing his sweet offering, when I found myself on top of him being kissed. His tongue was lapping the remaining cum in my mouth, and once I comprehended, I pushed every last bit into his own mouth. He swallowed with greatest pleasure.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"Me ithn't," I laughed. "Tank you thir. It was wery nice "
He saw me home after that.
On the underground it was less pleasant at that time of night.
Maybe some dried cum on my face gave off an aroma. Or maybe some knowing lads recognized the stains on my dress. We had several catcallers and a trail of three lads following us on the last stage of the journey back to my room.
A receptionist called Joy welcomed us in the foyer, the jeering from the three lads outside was disconcerting.
"Your room's ready, miss," Joy informed us.
"Oh we won't be needing dat," I explained, "you can clock Wev Bwown out now."
"Didn't the evening go very well?" Joy inquired.
"Oh it was wonderful," the straitlaced vicar replied. "as you'll see when I send my very favorable appraisal."
I had earned £375, not as much as I would have had at Queens. But, oh yes, it had been fun. The only thing that puzzled me was, why he had asked for a sissy. 

I found out the reason three days later.
The intervening time had been spent settling in to my new digs, my own special room. One other girl was saving money, the same as me, by 'living in' on the job.
She was Lucy who had started the same day as I, and was still nervously waiting her first client.
I liked her, she was petite and very appealing. I thought she'd make an ideal innocent sissy, but according to Miss Helene, she was smoldering passion underneath.
Mine wasn't to ask how she knew, though I admit to jealousy as I came up with one possible answer. 
"Take her under your wing," Miss Helene urged, "she is very anxious. I guess she has an inferiority complex. I'm letting her settle in a week or two before setting her to work."
There were ten other HCH girls, a few shared rooms, so I felt very privileged.  Even Carole shared, and she was regarded as the unofficial 'chief' of us girls. I say girls, for I was the only male, even though I was outwardly a pompom girly,  most knew I was like a shemale. In my fantasy, I regarded the place as my own little harem.
Then, as I said, three days in to my work, Miss Helene told me about my next customer.
"It's a bit unusual," she admitted, "but then I expect that will be the case with many of the ones wanting you."
"Okay, what can you tell me."
"Well Janice. You remember Rev Brown?"
"What, he wants me again?!" It was easy money and I liked him under his shy exterior. Probably his character is on the lines of Miss Lucy. The thought having struck me, I suggested,
"Wouldn't he make an ideal first date for Miss Lucy?"
"Er yeah, good suggestion Janice. I'll bear that in mind if he wants to make another booking."
"You said he was."
"Well yes and no. As I was explaining, his request is a little different."
"Okay, tell me, and I'll do my best."
"It's actually a date for his nephew, Brian. He wants to bring him on the date, in fact the date is for Brian. You see he is very shy, and he will only come along if his uncle is with him, like a chaperone, you might say."
"Thounds like he's a bit of a thiththy."
"Ah, well that's exactly the point Janice. Firstly, I should tell you, he is about your age, but mentally he is much less advanced. As you know, except in special circumstances, we only do one-to-one bookings, but on this occasion I felt that, from your report,  Brown will be highly unlikely to abuse the situation."
"I'm thure he will be wery proper, Mith Helene. I'd love to escort them."
"I knew you'd agree, otherwise I'd have checked beforehand."
"Oh you know me, I'll twy anyting," I boasted. "Well, motht tings, anyway!" I added after some sobering reflection.
"Dere is one ting Miss Helene I'm dyin' to know, tell me, why do your eyes change color?"
"I expect it's when you excite me Janice."
"Well, if me hath pweased you, Mith Helene, can me take you now?" I was burning in my lust. 
"Well Janice, I did promise, when you have proved yourself our best escort, even better than Carole. I'm sure that will not be long now. Wait a minute and I'll be happy to give you another taster."
She was out the room, I wondering what she was up to, If she was anything like as marvelous as last time, I'd be in heaven anyway. That thought made me throbbing and erect.
"Oh darling," the returning Miss Helene exclaimed, "you are looking hot. I can see your naughty erection, you shouldn't let clients see that too soon, or it'll turn them all horny and your date might become very short."
"Oh dat'd never do," I sighed, "it might mean less cash for wittle me."
"Come on then to mummy," Miss Helene coaxed me. "I wan' you to show me your big dick!"
I hardly needed any encouragement.
Holding my shaking hand, Miss Helene turned to the four poster drew back a curtain, and pulled back the bedspread.
"Cum for me darling, on there!" she pointed to the shiny black sheet.
I was never able to resist her. She could make me do it automatically anywhere anytime.
The bed sheet splattered with my silver cum.
"No, leave it there," she pulled me back as I went to collect it, half hoping she wanted to swallow it. "Think of it as a christening of your bed for your first sex on it.  I hope it will also encourage your client."
I nodded.
The sheet was of pvc, and the cum would not soak in. It might still be there when we returned.
Leaving the impregnated sheet exposed, she closed the curtain and wished me good luck.
"Oh, I should tell you, that as there are two of them, the rate is £300 an hour, so you'll be getting at least £600."
That was very good news indeed. With that kind of money I can start buying myself some great new things.

Perhaps you are thinking, dear sissy reader, that I was nervous that night waiting for my first real sex encounter?
Not that Rev Brown bothered me, but his nephew might be more demanding? But no, I was confident that he would be so nervous, I would be able to be in control. So when they were shown into my room  at seven o'clock, I played the submissive sissy role to the full, knowing that when necessary I'd be taking the lead.
It was a simple evening planned. A meal for three at a moderate French restaurant. Then oo-la-la, on to whatever I decided. What I had not reckoned on was the greenness of young Brian.
Rev Brown thanked me for what I was gonna do. What am I gonna do, I wondered? He thanked me for putting up with him last time, before introducing me to Brian.
He was taller than myself, but he wore shorts and braces, making him look younger than he really was. However he looked the age he behaved, because when his uncle introduced him he sniggered and told me,
"I love you."
"Sorry, but he does say silly things," the vicar apologized.
"Don't worry about it. Nice to meet you Brian."
I shook his hand, he responded limply.
"We go to bed now?" he asked.
"No, we're going for a meal," replied his uncle patiently.
"But when can I take her...."
"That's enough talking, Brian, come on let's go."
I took his hand, which he appreciated. 
In the foyer came the first sign of our problem.
"Hi Miss Joy," he said to the receptionist, "Miss Janice is me girl friend."
This made me dubious about going on public transport, but Rev Brown was adamant. Catcalls directed at me were repeated, and  people were somehow drawn like a magnet to Brian.
Most treated his casual remarks as funny or they ignored his more embarrassing remarks.
In the former category were things like She Is My Mummy, referring to me, in the latter She's Having Sex With Me Tonight.
This latter comment was shouted in the restaurant, so even the French chef could be heard commenting to his waiters, "ces anglais...!" shaking his head.
Rev Brown was for ever offering to take Brian home, but I told him I wasn't ashamed, which wasn't entirely true, and that I had an idea for keeping him quiet.
While we waited for our meal to be cooked, I took Brian's hand and led him to the toilet.
You can guess, reader, it was the Disabled one.
"Sit on the seat Bwian pwease."
"Not wanna ploppy."
He stood and faced me disobediently.
"If you don't I'll thmack you." 
Since he didn't respond, I fetched a hefty slap across his face.
"Ow. You hurt me," he cried, whether put on tears I couldn't tell you.
But he sat down.
"Dat's a good boy. You wanna pwease your mummy Janice?" 
He nodded sulkily, but still looked aggrieved.
"Okay, I don't want you to thay another word until I have, as you keep telling everyone, had thex with me. If you agwee, just nod your head.
He did so, whether he really meant it I had no idea. But it might work.
"Just to thhow you I mean what I thay, I'll only have thex with you if you don't thay another word tonight."
He nodded again.
"Jutht to whet your appetite, Bwian," I added temptingly, "pull down your pants and thtay on dat seat."
He shook his head.
"Do as I tell you Bwian, if you wanna have thex later."
He dropped his pants and pulled down his underwear revealing a tiny limp dick.
Was this gonna work?
I pulled down my own pompom pantie, sitting on him, nestling my own balls onto his dick which became much more responsive, I could feel it growing. Not a giant, but stiff. I had got him erect at any rate!
I peed over his dick and he murmured approval. Then I stood up and turned to him displaying my own superior dick.
"You'll have better dan dat later, if you behave, Bwian."
We never heard another peep from him. Rev Brown was the most surprised man, even I was mildly satisfied. The meal passed smoothly, Rev Brown droning on about something or other, Brian staring, mostly at me, or at any other woman who came near, but he was at least quiet.
On our way home we received more catcalls, and two girls followed us laughing and jeering. Brian turned and kissed each of them and they gave up their little game. However several boys began the same game, teasing Brian and taunting me. But again Brian came into his own, turning and lashing his foot at one of them. Off they scurried!
But once he had tasted blood as it were, Brian began trying to kiss any woman who happened to be walking past and that brought about several nasty scenes.
All this time Rev Brown was walking ahead of us, dissociating himself, no doubt telling himself it was my job to look after his unusual nephew.
Our entrance to HCH was noisy but it was a huge relief to get inside, security door shut, though several  of Brian's followers were banging on the door and windows.
"Good evening,"  I reported to Miss Joy at reception.
She became the latest recipient of Brian's attentions, with a large smacking kiss on the lips. But he was obediently silent.
"Are they clocking out?" Miss Joy asked me. She could see I must have had quite an evening with Brian.
"No, we're off to my room," I replied.
Brian kissed Joy again, she winked, pleased.
Come on, I said to myself, as I took his hand. Let's get it over.
Rev Brown was first into the room.
"I'll wait on the settee," he explained.
"Okay thir, if dat's what you want. But it's all part of de servithe if you wanna another blow job."
He blushed, and nodded at me, what that meant I wasn't certain, but he took his seat firmly and faced away from the bed.
I was still holding Brian's rough hand.
"You can thpeak again Bwian, you've been a wery good boy, well done."
He beamed. "Do we do it now?"
"Come closer, little boy," I invited.
As we stood near the bed, his arms embraced me all of a sudden. Treating me like some block of stone, he smothered his face over my lips and battered my mouth making weird grunting noises.
If it was what turned him on....
It didn't last long. He desisted.
"Thanks missy."
His words had the ring of finality.
"I-I'm afraid he doesn't quite know what to do," Rev Brown coyly remarked from his settee.
"Well, thir, he theems thatithfied."
"But, if I may be so bold, I was er, hoping, that your er, fee covered a little more than, than...."
The client is always right.
I had half hoped I had gotten away with a bit of a snog. Brian was prancing round the room exclaiming, it sounded like, Me Had Sex, but it might have been almost anything his words were so slurred
"Come here," ordered Rev Brown, "come back to Miss Janice."
He skipped over.
"Nice!" he gave me another peck of appreciation.
"Now do what this lady tells you, Brian," uncle ordered.
Brian looked sheepishly at him. I pulled him over to the four poster while uncle, watched as if to make sure I carried out my duty fully.
I drew back the curtain.
Rev Brown's eyes immediately alighted on the still wet cum Miss Helene had made me spray earlier.
He looked up at me.
"I suppose we're just another on your conveyor belt," his voice conveyed something like admiration.
I ignored him and seeing I was getting down to business, he withdrew to the comfort zone of his settee. Of course he had no idea that this would be my first taste of anal sex myself.
"That," I said to Brian, pointing at my cum," is what we need to get from you."
He looked blankly at me.
As we stood by the bed, I undid his braces and his shorts dropped, exposing his little dick, nicely erect in its own tiny way, popping out at me.
"There you are excited aren't you Brian?"
He proved how excited next second. A spray of cum splashed between us, soiling my pompom dress.
"Ni-ice!" he exclaimed.
I couldn't decide if he had done this lots of times, or if I was really dealing with a novice.
"Rev Brown!" I called.
He took his time coming to the bed, gingerly approaching.
"You can't be finished surely?"
"Well yeth and no thir," I told him, "de client hath ejaculated....
"Er yes, so I see. I am very sorry about your lovely dress."
"Oh dat's nothing thir."
"Er do you think you can, er,  still do it, er, properly for him?"
I tried not to sigh. 
"Okay thir."
"Perhaps if you er, took off all your clothes, it might arouse him again."
"Me never wemoves de uniform," I responded firmly, "dat's in de thmall pwint."
"Of course. Do whatever you think best."
He left me to it. But he did stand by the bed, maybe to check I did my duty as it were, or perhaps for more voyeuristic reasons.
Brian had been standing by the bed in a daze. 
"I am gonna take off your shirt, Bwian, dere, do you like being nearly naked?"
I sat him on the black sheet and removed his socks and shoes.
"Dere now you have nothing on at all."
"Nothing," he repeated.
"Lie back pwease."
I helped his back rest gently on the sensuous sheet. I  crouched over him.
I stroked some of his cum from off my pompom dress.
"Who made dat?" I asked.
He looked perplexed. "God?" he asked.
"Okay yes but who thquirted dat on my nithe dwess?"
He pondered the question, and finally pointed to himself.
"That's wight Bwian, now me wants you to make thome more."
Another puzzled look.
"Like dis."
I stroked the tiny thing. It really was tiny now.
"Nice" was his response.
"Good, we'll twy an' make it stwong again, thhall we?"
"Please miss."
But it remained determinedly limp.
How about more stimulation in the form of my drying cum on the bed sheet? Do you think that'll help, dear reader?
I smeared some on his face, under his nostrils so he could smell it, then I pushed open his mouth and pushed a cummy finger in.
"Thuck," I ordered, and he did so.
"Dat'll wemind your body what it's gotta make," I said simplistically.
I was smearing a dollop on his tiny dick, when I felt my dress being lifted. I'd not been attentive to uncle, who, unlike his nephew, had been turned on by my wiles.
He went all red. "I-I-I will," if you don't mind, miss."
"Okay, you've paid for it," I told him in a not bothered way, as though this was everyday business for me. 
It wasn't. 
So as I masturbated the little thing, vainly it would appear, he mounted me with "I hope you don't mind."
I laughed. He was nervous, but I was worried. I'd seen his dick at full stetch, would my passage be able to receive it? It had been a constant worry since I had embarked on this career. 
But I did want it. Yes, I wanted it.
"Me don't mind," I called out.
"What you mean?" Brian asked.
"Oh never mind, you conthentwate on your willy pwease."
As he concentrated, I braced myself as I began to take my first dick. It was pushing and the precum helped ease it in so the head was poking inside me. Wow, it was getting me going, and I moaned.
"You all right miss?" Brian asked.
Perhaps it was my arousal that got him going at last. I felt a slight arching of the two inch object, just as uncle gave a low moan and without ever piercing me properly, pumped his goodness inside me.
"Sorry," was Rev Brown's only word, it might have been to me or God, but he was off me and I, utterly aroused by the cum bubbling in my rectum had a sudden inspiration.
I lay down on top of Brian.
"Mmmm," was all he said.
You see dear reader, it's not something you must ever do with anyone, but I reckoned it might be possible for Brian's tiny dick to penetrate me, to penetrate my now bulging dick, that like uncle's, was bubbling with precum.
I pushed the tip of my dick, wide open was the passage that would shortly release my powerful cum. It was painful but unutterably wonderful as his little dick became captured by my huge one, and I climaxed with a shooting burst of cum that shot over his dick, and flooded down on to his balls. Just like my wee earlier, only much more sensational!
It aroused Brian at last, and I gasped as he stiffened more, forcing my passage into a size it had never before experienced. Thankfully all my cum had created the space, but this was now filled with Brian's own cum, as I collapsed in delirium.

"You enjoyed yourself?" Miss Helene inquired next afternoon.
My look told her all she needed to know. Anyway she told me that my appraisal from the vicar had been pretty nigh perfect.
"Would you be interested in another multiple job?" she asked, "it is entirely your decision. But make sure the sex takes place in here, so we can be on hand in the event of any problems."
I replied that I would be happy to oblige, besides it meant a bigger fee.
"Lovely," Miss Helene answered, "it will be next week, as the client wishes you to be a sissy schoolgirl, and I said we would make you a new pompom outfit that is more schoolgirly. Is that okay?"
"Of course, Miss Helene, thank you."
"At this rate, you'll soon be my best escort, and you know what that means?"
I certainly did.
"Meanwhile, cum for me now please!"
The suddenness took me by surprise.
She had pulled down my pompom pantie and my newly erect dick was pointing in her direction.
She turned me to my bed, and merely by looking at me, she was able to effect an instant ejaculation. I pounded my offering over my pvc bed sheet.
"Lovely," she smiled, sampling a taste, "leave it there for your next client tomorrow. Oh and next time, please remember that one extra of ours, we do add a surcharge if the client doesn't use a condom."
Naughty Rev Brown had not used his or Brian's, and in my excitement I hadn't given the matter a thought.

In fact the next two clients were much more normal, not half so much work, or indeed fun, as Brian.
Clearly HCH did not attract so many top celebs as Queens! In fact my next customer was a serious businessman who wanted this sissy to attend a weekend conference. 
Saturday 10am to Sunday noon- 26 hours, some unsocial hours, works out quite a large fee!
However Miss Helene did tell me that he was an approved customer, so I needn't come to my room for the Fun. Just as well as we were 50 miles from London.
He presented me to his colleagues as his (almost) grown up daughter. Some of them may have known the HCH escort uniform. But no matter, most of the so-called wives accompanying these businessmen looked highly tarty, and as for the few business women, their partners all bore remarkable Mediterranean tans bearing all the hallmarks of beach bums rather than dedicated husbands.
The whole event was geared round socializing. After luncheon, during the conference, I was free to roam Brighton and spent a happy few hours making purchases in a sex shop. Then after an early evening dinner there was dancing, swapping of partners, all the usual things that go on at conferences.
I of course declined any swap or indeed foursome. I was not being paid for that.
But we retired early, as I had expected, from the smoochy dancing and he soon was displaying himself naked in front of me in what was a marathon. But he was paying for it.
I enjoyed the cocksucking, he pushed a load into his condom, filling my mouth frustratingly. I wished I could taste it.
Then while he built up strength he kindly masturbated me, and I joyfully sprayed my own dress with silvery cum. 
I was still nervous of the anal bit, but reassured when he pushed right in and thanks to the vicar I was loose enough to take his whole seven inch dick.
He tipped the contents of his two condoms over my face, and I lapped what I could, he licked me clean. Quite a portion however had trickled down my neck and sullied the pompoms on my neckline.
I didn't care. I wanted the businessmen to admire my sullied dress next morning!

"He was very pleased," Miss Helene reported the Monday afterwards. "Do you wanna try your schoolgirl pompom outfit, it's ready for you!"
She proudly showed me and I expressed my deep appreciation.
Same color, black of course, a two piece, shiny silky black blouse and a pleated black pvc gymslip with long white straps affixing it round my neck. The pompoms were white round my neck, but elsewhere the usual gold. The skirt was shorter than the dress, barely covering my same pompom pantie. Rather than tights, I wore knee length socks in black with two white rings at the top. Mary Janes were also in black, but specially made with six inch heels.
It was gorgeous to wear. Miss Helene suggested I go to the foyer where there was a large mirror, to properly admire my outfit.
The effect was stunning. Miss Joy said I looked lovely, Carole looked jealously at me, her client looked as though he would like to swap escorts. When I finally got to the mirror, I looked at myself and was every bit as pleased with my looks as everyone else.
"It's really for your gangbang next weekend," Miss Helene advised, "but as it happens it will be ideal also for your Wednesday date."

 On this occasion I was to accompany a shy teacher to a college dance. He was hopeless at small talk and I needed to take him in charge to prevent him from giving up on his evening.
On the way out we met Miss Lucy, who was finally embarking on her first date. I waved at Rev Brown. Randy old devil, I thought to myself, but out loud I called, "all the best." 

"Lincoln is not very self-confident," Miss Helene had admitted of my date,  "I got very little out of him except he is a bit of an AB. Hence your schoolgirl look. He does like the idea of paying for an attractive escort. I think he wants his colleagues to wonder how he could have pulled such a dolly pompom girl as you, and I guess he wants to surprise his students too."
He certainly did all of that.  If I told you dear reader, that I was the belle of the ball, you might think  was exaggerating, but I turned many heads, teachers and students, male and female.
It took all my efforts to remember not to desert my shy client, who was like a fish out of water.
Lincoln returned me to the office in good time for the finale. But in the foyer, he whispered,
"Thank you very much, that'll be all."
I took his hand, to encourage him. He'd paid for it.
"You'd like more wouldn't you?"
I pulled but he resisted.
"Just a coffee together," I urged.
So we went to my room.
Coffee was all he had. I could not yank him out his shell. I made a pass and he politely moved away. After coffee Lincoln got up and thanked me for a lovely time.
It could have been so much more, I thought as he closed the door quietly. I'd have enjoyed seeing how he performed naked on my bed. I'd left a diaper which Miss Helene had weed over specially on the bed. It was never needed.

Next day,  I was listening to Miss Lucy, who was in tears, confiding how badly her evening had gone. The vicar had become surprisingly aggressive, not the character I had dated at all, perhaps as he felt the dominant one he had become over demanding.
I sympathized, and later said to Miss Helene I regretted suggesting the pairing. However I did wonder if Lucy could make out with Lincoln. I had been very pushy, but he hadn't responded. Perhaps her gentler approach might give her confidence to break her anxieties?
"I'm sure she's the making of a great escort," insisted Miss Helene. "Let's try them out together. He wants another date next week, so underneath he is probably smoldering, like her!"

Saturday night fever struck in the shape of a football team. This was the Gangbang I had been anticipating with mixed feelings all week.
At noon, Miss Helene began proceedings by briefing me, then as her deep blue eyes penetrated me, she made me cum all over the bed sheet.
"Lovely," she exclaimed, "shall we see if you have any more left?"
This was something new.
"Miss Helene wants to please them as the six of them are paying so well."
"Me will pwease dem," I promised.
"At £1,500 a head plus extras your share will be around £5K. Worth it, d'you think?"
She was masturbating me!
"Definitely a good day's work," I joked.
"Well let's get you erect and squirting darling," Miss Helene cooed.
I ddn't need much encouragement.  As soon as she eyed me, she could make me do anything.
"Lovely," I cried, spraying the bed with a smaller load.
"Now I wonder," she continued, as I stood feeling spent, "I really wonder if we couldn't squeeze a teeny bit more...."
Her masturbation masterclass continued. But this time even I could not be aroused automatically by her looking.
"Me will twy," I promised, though I wanted to say no, I wanted even more to please her.
"That's a good girl," she was rubbing fiercely to bring me back to life.
It oddly reminded me of how I had tried to coax Brian into an erection. But I am not a wimp like him am I? I am the great Miss Janice, the pompom schoolgirl who will be welcoming half a dozen bulging dicks inside her very soon.
That and Miss Helene's stroking my face, as well as my dick, aroused me and from somewhere I produced a third shower that flopped neatly on to bedspread, joining its fellows in a tempting mass, a sign of sexual fervor that would soon by raging right here.

I enjoyed a good half hour's recovery time before my footballer arrived. It was Rod, who was having his way at last with me. He was an old friend of Miss Helene's and accompanied me to a football match. No persistent questions about sex this time. Well he didn't need to ask, did he?
The football match was a charity event in which he was playing with some mates. I was required as one of the opposition team, who were celebs of various stature, mostly not much.
Our team included that Jon, one of my first dates, as well as the ubiquitous Carole. Both of us in our uniform, mine schoolgirl pompom variety.
"How many of them are going with you afterwards?" she joked.
I think my answer surprised her.
"Six for sex, eh? I've got eight of 'em," she boasted.
"Oh I bet yours include some reserves, "I retorted, "and I've got Rod!"
That shut her up.
The match score was irrelevant, though I scored one goal, probably they let me as the game was played with the accent on fun. That included one foul which the referee awarded on me for Ungentlemanly Conduct. In fact the player in a melee had grabbed my balls hard. I didn't mind. I accidentally kicked him in the groin later.
Right at the end I had another unfortunate collision with someone on my own team, Carole, who  got knocked to the ground. Her HCH uniform looked distinctly used. I had timed it so the final whistle blew next second.
After the match came the singing and celebrations. Nobody knew what we were celebrating, but it was all good fun. Carole had tried to clean her dress up, but the battle scars were visible for all her friends, and enemies, to see. I had been more careful and my only marks were a few cum trickles when I had been beautifully  masturbated by Miss Helene.
Gradually the party broke up, and some of the players on our side, and a few of the many reserves on theirs left. That included two of Carole's group who said she looked too much of a mess, and one who reckoned she'd badly fouled me, her own teammate- I think he'd muddled up my tackling of her, but heigh-ho, all's fair in love.
Carole and her five surviving clients grabbed one taxi, Rod and his five took me in his own chauffeur driven Rolls, my last sight of the tart was showing her our superior vehicle and waving five fingers at her and calling out, "I've still got all my six!"
Miss Joy greeted the army that suddenly descended on her foyer. One lot packed into Carole's red room, the remainder into my sissy home.
"Make yourself at home," I told the lads, pointing to more beers. "I'll be back in a mo."
I wanted to see if the petite Miss Lucy was okay. She was moping in her room.
"Come and see how it's done," I offered her, "it might encourage you."
It wasn't the most tactful thing to say. She was holding back the tears. 
"Oh thanks Miss Janice," she said, "but I'm really not in the mood. Another time I really would like to."
I think she meant If I Dare.
I said I'd keep her to that promise, then returned to my room.
Wild shouts were reverberating around the bed, they hadn't noticed I'd come back, so busy they were staring at the bed.
I heard comments like, she must be a goer, and bring her on, and Rod's calming voice, Remember she's a shemale.
"Ready boys?" I marched confidently to the bed, pushed two of them aside and lay on the bed sheet. My back became impregnated with that cum.
In no time, they were stripping.
"You're a very naughty schoolgirl," one joked.
 "You'll see how naughty soon," I giggled.
I turned and crouched over the sheet, my cummy back now in full view. But there was enough cum beneath me to make lying there a most pleasant experience.
The whole thing was Most Pleasant.
They each enjoyed a taster, as it were, as I gazed at the six of them masturbating.
First in was Rod. Naturally.
He couldn't wait.
My passage was now pretty much ready for any size in dicks. His was average, but definitely keen.
After a few preliminary wiggles, he pushed, then, expressed satisfaction, withdrew, leaving his number two to test me out.
This went on until all six had had a round of me, then the serious stuff started.
With a squelch, Rod wriggled in under me facing the other direction, so that my mouth was positioned by his stiff dick. By propping himself up slightly, he could also suck my own little dick, which soon began to respond to his lickings.
I matched my lickings to his, but he was taking it slow. He wanted me to last, so I did. Unlike for Miss Helene, when I couldn't help myself.
Number 2 found room to take me doggy style, not leaning on me too heavily, but pushing quickly in. As he began pushing in and out, in and out, he was licking my sodden schoolgirl dress. with a cry like he had scored a goal, he pumped up inside me.
"Wow, so good!" he cried.
I continued sucking Rod, but the excitement of all that cum made me explode inside his mouth.
"Great girl," he shouted, and dribbled my offering into a glass he had positioned by the bedside.
I was hot and overexcited by now.
Number Three was smaller but firmer and was soon pushing in and nearly out of my passage. Amazingly Rod continued to hold himself as I happily sucked and blew his dick and caressed it with my tongue.
"Aaaaahh," number three cried as he exploded inside me.
"Wow!" I cried as the two helpings of cum stimulated me and Rod's mouth received another nice little helping of cum. I couldn't believe I could do that. But I did.
Not only that but number four pumped me, then number five and I was half ready for another ejaculation. By the time six came inside me and my passage was overflowing with cum, I burst a third time in Rod's grateful mouth.
This offering was collected very meticulously, along with the trickle of their gifts oozing from my passage.
"Thanks," I yelled.
"Me to come," cried Rod, and he slipped out from under me, his hot dick overripe from so much stimulation and restraining.
In popped Miss Helene at this sexy moment. 
"Having a good time boys?"
The answer rang round the room.
Rod was mounting me, sticky is the best description of us both.
As he pushed in, Miss Helene came round to give me one of those looks!
Her eyes were much paler, but her look was determined.
"Time to start your own reward," she whispered to me. 
As he pushed further in, boiling in his passion, she simply enfolded my weary dick and made it cum one final time. 
"Yaaah! Rod cried as he gave me his all. 
He pulled out, and even remembered to collect his overflow. 
He offered the glass to Miss Helene, who selfishly kept her gift. I was glad of that. She swallowed it with clear delight.
Rod got me to turn over, and collected the cum that flowed out my passage.
Then as I lay there, Miss Helene with her arms around my shoulders, we watched them imbibe this heady concoction, passing round the glass of precious cum until it was half consumed.
Rod looked up at Miss Helene.
"Go on," she urged.
He threw the remaining cum at us, so that it neatly splashed across our grateful faces.

"I wanna give Miss Lucy a little talk on How To Please The Client," Miss Helene told me next day, "she's gonna take Lincoln out, and she sure needs some encouragement. I think you're the one, darling, who can instill  confidence in herself."
"How d'you mean?" I replied, "I'm not a hundred percent confident in myself, as you don't ever do more than tease me."
"Well I think I did better than Carole yesterday, and you promised when I was better than her you'd let me take you, but all you did yesterday was suck me."
"Have you finished moaning?"
"Well no, though I will say that I loved being sucked, but I want to change one letter in that word, you know how badly I do Miss Helene."
"Oh that's no problem."
"Well it might not be to you...." I shouted fiercely.
"But you do know," she interrupted in a firm insistent voice, "that it was my sister last night?"
I stared in blank amazement.
"Yeah, hadn't you worked that out. When you noticed our eyes were different, you were spot on. She's my elder sister by a day."
Now I looked, this Miss Helene had those dreamy dark blue eyes.
"I'm thowwy, I thould have wealized."
"Yeah we call ourselves Miss Helene professionally, but big sis's real name is Dora, and I'm afraid mine is...."
"No," it was my turn to interrupt, "don't thay. Me will always tink of you as Mith Helene."
"So you shall darling. Now I wanna give you your reward."
"I was telling you, you are the one who can build up Miss Lucy's confidence. Do that and yes, you can take me."
I do not immediately see the relation between the two things, but I wanted to trust her.

"Your room's lovely, Miss Janice," cried Miss Lucy in delight. Miss Helene had escorted her in to my little home. She was in her HCH outfit. It was the first time she had seen my room.
"Thanks, I had it made to my own design," I told her, switching on the pompoms which began racing round the rail.
She clapped her hands in delight.
"I want to let you have your own special room," said Miss Helene, "made up as you, Miss Lucy want it."
"That would be lovely," she sighed.
"Only you do need to prove yourself as an escort, don't you?" Miss Helene pressed home her point.
"I know, Miss Helene, but it's so hard when the men are so pushy. I- I get scared...."
"You're not scared of Miss Janice, are you Miss Lucy?"
"Oh no...."
Miss Helene pushed me over to her.
"I tink you're very thweet, Miss Luthy," I said. I meant it too, She was petite, vulnerable looking, I understood why some men thought they could impose on her.
"Thanks, Miss Janice."
I gave her a short kiss.
"You're no thcared of me are you, Mith Luthy?"
"Oh no, but...."
"You do know," Miss Helene interposed, "that Miss Janice is really male?"
"No," cried Miss Lucy, startled, "oh I did see the picture of you in the foyer, but  I assumed it was some naughty trick. You must be a girl?" she turned to me.
I lifted my pompom dress and dropped my pantie.
She looked genuinely dumbfounded.
"I'll be honetht, I do find you wery attractive Mith Luthy. If I wath even more honetht, I'd like you to kith me."
I brushed my little dick across her lower dress.
"I-I don't know. I'd like.... no, I mustn't!"
"Why ever not, Lucy," it was Miss Helene asking.
"I've only done it with girls before, you see, Miss Helene."
That was the signal for her to get up and kiss our nervous escort.
"Like with me?"
"Oooh Miss Helene, you're too grand!"
"Don't be silly, I'm only another girl," she said in a matter-of-fact voice, lying on the bed, my bed.
I was watching, okay I was enjoying watching. Do you think Miss Lucy will respond, dear reader?
If I'd been her, I sure would!
"I- I'm not sure."
She was hesitating.
"It's simple, really, Lucy," Miss Helene explained, "you let them see how desirable you are, tease them, tantalize them. Do you know, it's exactly how I won Miss Janice's affections!"
"Oh yeah," I confirmed, "when I first saw Miss Helene, she flashed her eyes at me, and I went all weak at the knees."
"I can get Janice to do anything, can't I Janice?"
"Oh yeah, "I admitted, "anything."
"I'll show you," she went on. "Come her my sissy pompom girl."
I tottered over to her as she lay on my bed. It's not easy to walk with your pants round your ankles.
"Cum for me little Miss Janice."
Her eyes were boring into me. In a second Miss Lucy was gasping as I became suddenly erect, and just as quickly was exploding before her eyes and on to my lovely Miss Helene.
"It's all done with your looks, your eyes, your dominance. Oh you can let them think they are in control, but deep down, they know your are mistress. That's how it must be, Lucy, be strong and master them!"
"If only I had the confidence!" she sighed.
"You can have. Look lie next to me. Now give Miss Janice a sexy look, like you saw me do, a begging look, that's it. You need Janice, You want Janice. Make her want you."
She gazed at me. I crouched on the bed over her like an obedient pet dog.
"Tell her to cum," Miss Helene said.
"Cum for me my darling," she moaned in agony, wondering if it would work.
I splattered my cum, my first spurt landed on her face, then the rest trailed over her uniform.
She licked my offering joyfully and turned to Miss Helene.
"Oh thank you, Miss Helene, and you too Miss Janice."
we got up and she gave my dick a playful squeeze uttering another thank you.
"I think you'll be okay on your first successful date now," smiled Miss Helene. "And keep in mind, that lovely room that you will be having."
Miss Lucy danced out.
"Thanks," Miss Helene said.
"Any time," I answered, "you know you can make me do anything!"
"Yeah," she admitted, "but thank you for putting it on and cumming for her. You did it very well!"
"How do you know I wasn't under her spell," I retorted, "come to think of it, how do I know you haven't been having me on all this time?"
She kicked me softly with a grin. Her answer was a huge kiss. 
"I can answer that," she laughed, "I  think it's about time you get your reward." 
And we lay on the cummy bed and at last, at long long last, her eyes invited me to take her. I did. Fully. All night.

      THE Happy END

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that was sweetly sexy 
 Princess are kind, brave, beautiful and determined they can do or be anything 
even change the world.  

 All girls are princess what you see in the Mirrors doesn't define you.
It doesn’t meter if you weren't born a girl. As long as your one at heart you too
are a princess 

thank ooo 
Stevie Sweet

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