The Blue-Ribbon Transvestite at the Farmhouse

At the beginning of February, Marcelo called me to let me know we had a booking. Ten whole days in a farmhouse lost in the mountains, he told me, and he gave me the date he’d come pick me up. He didn’t give me any more details, and I didn’t ask for them either. I’d learned a long time ago that with Marcelo there was no point asking questions and the answers came when he felt like giving them.

When the day came, the van pulled up outside my building. Brenda and Noelia were already inside, my usual girls. I loaded my suitcase in the back, got in, and we set off north. Past the provincial capital, we stopped at a roadside club where we picked up three more girls. Marcelo said goodbye to who seemed to be the place’s owner with a long handshake and, once back behind the wheel, introduced everyone.

—Girls, these are Katia, Larisa, and Vera, three Romanians from this club who are going to give us a hand. The clients asked for six, and there are only three of us —he said, then turned for a moment toward the newcomers—. They’re Brenda, Noelia, and Daniela, the three Spanish girls in the group.

After the obligatory greetings, the car sank into a thick silence, broken only now and then by Marcelo, who pointed out towns and tossed out anecdotes about the roads we were taking. We were heading into the Valley of the Holm Oaks, a closed-up dehesa region where, according to him, we were going to spend the long week.

After more than five kilometers along a dirt track winding between ravines, we reached the gate of a huge farmhouse. The gate opened just as Marcelo started honking, long before we needed him to.

He got out of the car and embraced the woman who had opened the door for us, a Rosa. He squeezed and groped her as much as he could, and she let him, laughing, delighted by the hands-on attention.

Rosa was Colombian, about thirty, dark-skinned, with a face browned by the sun and a small mouth lightly painted. She couldn’t have been much over five foot four. She wore a tight sweater that trapped two round, firm breasts, and fitted leggings that shaped a plump, well-turned ass. From the front she showed everything; from behind, two cheeks that looked ready for action.

—You’ve got no idea how lucky your husband is, having a beauty like you —Marcelo told her without stopping his groping—. The fool is you. Another woman as pretty as you wouldn’t be buried in these ravines missing out on the good things in life. I’ve told you a thousand times: the day you want to come with me, all you have to do is wink at me. Well, these are the girls the gentlemen asked for. Tell them where to get ready and where to sleep, because when the men come back they need to be ready.

—You’re already late for that —Rosa replied, gesturing for us to follow her—. They were expecting you for lunch. When they came back from hunting they thought they’d find you here, ready to party.

We went up to a large room in the upper part of the house, with six beds and wardrobes. We were unpacking when Marcelo appeared with a cardboard box.

—There you go, several sets of lingerie. Put them on in the afternoons, before they get back from the fields. In the mornings, dress in your own clothes, but show some flesh, because that’s what these men want to see. Behave yourselves, because they pay well and sometimes tip nicely. When I call you by name, come downstairs one by one and I’ll introduce you. Put the tight ribbon around your neck too, each one with her name written on it. Daniela, you take the blue one, since you’re the only one with that color. Come on, don’t waste time, they’ll be here any minute.

While we got ready, Rosa stayed with us. She confessed that sometimes she’d like to dress up like a whore, like us, that Marcelo had suggested it to her many times and she’d never agreed. Then she brought us up to speed. The estate belonged to a wealthy local wine producer, Don Gustavo. With him we’d have to serve Don Esteban, a career military man; Don Lorenzo, head of a bank branch in the capital; Don Cosme, a politician who’d come down from Madrid; Don Ignacio, owner of a clothing brand; and Don Mauricio, proprietor of a hotel-restaurant on the coast. Every year they spent ten days together at the farmhouse hunting partridges with a calling decoy in the mornings and afternoons. Our job was to keep them company and everything else.

We finished dressing like little whores, as Rosa called it. After putting on a thorough makeup job, we slipped into red thongs and bras, fishnet stockings, high heels, and a transparent lace-look robe, all in the same color. Each of us fastened the elastic band with her name around her neck. Theirs were red. Mine was blue.

—They’re here —Rosa warned us from the window overlooking the courtyard.

We all ran to look out and see what kind of men were going to use us that week. I hung back a little, and Rosa came close to my ear.

—You’re not like the others. They’re women, you’re a transvestite, I saw you’ve got a cock. They brought you for Don Mauricio, because they say he’s a bit on the other side.

There was a small commotion among the girls. The Romanians couldn’t believe it. They hadn’t noticed a thing the whole trip and had taken me for just another woman.

***

Marcelo’s voice boomed from downstairs, telling us to get ready. We lined up at the top of the stairs, ready to go down as soon as our name was called. We could hear the men’s shouting below, cheerful and excited as they talked over the day’s hunt. They called for Rosa, shouting for her to pluck and cook the birds, while the homeowner warned Marcelo that he expected good stock.

—Don Gustavo, you’ll see they won’t have a complaint —Marcelo replied—. I’ve brought six mares, and there are none better. Six top-class women for their enjoyment.

—Well, let’s see them —said the host, eager.

—Brenda! —announced Marcelo.

She started down first, a woman in her forties, full-bodied, highlighted hair falling down her back, fleshy lips, and big eyes painted sea-green. Two firm breasts and a pair of broad hips swaying under the transparent gauze. She caused quite a stir among the clients.

—Noelia! —came the second call.

She came down slowly. Dark-skinned with a gypsy look, hair to her waist, shining black eyes, tall and thin, but with hard buttocks and long legs. Small perky breasts. She caused a sensation too.

—Daniela! —Marcelo said, and my breath caught for a second.

I went down slowly, measuring each step. I’m a girl with a small sex that I hide well. Hips, a round hard ass, small breasts, dark hair brushing my shoulders, full lips, and honey-colored eyes. Marcelo added, raising his voice:

—As you can see, she’s wearing the blue ribbon. That means she’s the only woman with a cock. Keep that in mind.

The six men started talking among themselves, surprised, because I was a full woman except for that detail.

—Come on, come on… let that little slut come over here, I want to check something.

I went over to Don Gustavo. He put his hand in my crotch without asking permission, pulled the thong aside, and took my little cock out into the open in front of everyone. He weighed it in his hand, stretched it a little between thumb and forefinger, and laughed, looking at his friends.

—It’s true, gentlemen. This one, believe it or not, is. And what a cute little cock she has, look at that, it could fit whole in a mouth in one go.

Everyone laughed and started cracking jokes, except Don Mauricio, who tried to convince them I wasn’t a man, but a woman in the wrong body. Marcelo ended the discussion with another name.

—Katia!

A gorgeous blonde came down, early twenties, blue eyes, almost porcelain skin, strong slightly bowed legs, generous hips, a very narrow waist, and lips outlined in intense red. From the comments, it was obvious she’d be one they’d fight over.

—Larisa!

A small woman came down, with shapely legs and wide hips, a tiny waist, a big mouth well made up, and green eyes. Her light-brown hair was curled to her shoulders. They loved her youth and the proportion of her body.

—Vera! —she was the last.

Down came the third Romanian, thin well-shaped legs, normal hips, a fleshy ass, a very narrow waist, straight blond hair, and honey-colored eyes. They liked her fierce look and that perky ass.

When she finished coming down, the gentlemen applauded, and Don Gustavo turned to Marcelo.

—You’ve done well this year. Good mares. I think we’re going to have a very good time.

—Well, gentlemen, there you have them. Enjoy them, that’s what they’re for. If anything doesn’t please you, call me and I’ll sort it out. And you girls, behave yourselves with these clients, because they’re special. Friendly, obliging, and obedient. I’m off, because I don’t want to hear any complaints.

***

Marcelo left and we started talking to the men, who immediately surrounded our waists and touched us everywhere, as if they couldn’t believe we were flesh and blood. Meanwhile, Rosa was preparing the partridges in a deep skillet and her husband, Tomás, was slicing ham, cheese, and cured meats on a board.

Don Gustavo sat Katia on his lap and couldn’t stop pawing her. He slipped his hand inside her red bra, pinched her pink nipples until they were hard as little seeds, and when the blonde let out a tiny moan, he poured a glass of red wine down her cleavage and licked the stream that ran between her tits. As for me, except for the military man, all of them touched my sex at some point, even Tomás himself, amazed that I didn’t look like a man. Don Cosme slipped his fingers inside my thong, grabbed my sleeping cock, and shook it slowly, curious, like someone inspecting a strange fruit. Don Ignacio pinched my nipples through the fabric and told me in my ear that he wanted to see them with his teeth sunk into them. Don Lorenzo ran his tongue along my neck, just below the blue ribbon, and whispered that if luck put me with him, he was going to put me on all fours on the dining table.

—Come on, to the table, let the girls serve us —ordered Don Gustavo, taking the chair at the head of it with Katia back in his lap.

The other five of us, with Rosa’s help, went around serving the dishes and wine in an atmosphere growing thicker by the minute. Everyone kept touching our asses and legs, including the housekeeper, who was groped in front of her husband. Don Cosme slipped his hand under Rosa’s leggings and sank his middle finger into her pussy in front of Tomás, who just swallowed and kept slicing ham with his jaw clenched. Rosa moaned without meaning to, turned red, and Don Cosme pulled out his shiny finger and licked it slowly, looking her husband in the eyes.

—The Colombian’s wet, Tomás. A whole lot wetter than you think.

The military man, Don Esteban, called me by my name and asked me to serve him a bottle. While I slowly filled his glass, I felt his hand exploring my ass. He slipped two fingers under my thong and spread my cheeks, searching for my hole with his fingertip. I looked at his fly and saw that he was hard, a thick bulge pushing against the fabric. I had the bright idea of grabbing his package, squeezing it over his trousers, and saying, jokingly, because several of the girls had already done the same with others:

—If you want, I can cure that swelling with my mouth, leave it nice and empty for you.

—Get your hand off that —he snapped, shoving me so hard I dropped the bottle, which shattered on the floor—. What are you saying, fucking fairy? You don’t touch my cock. If you do that again, I’ll kill you. Come on, bend down and clean up the mess you made.

I crouched to pick up the glass and wipe up the wine with a cloth. Don Gustavo stepped in.

—Leave her alone, Esteban. Don’t hassle her for what she is. We already talked about it, that this year we’d ask Marcelo for a girl of the third sex, to try it out and amuse ourselves. In fact, we agreed we’d draw lots for the girls every day, let chance decide who handles whom. So get used to the idea that you might have to sleep with Daniela too.

—With a faggot? Over my dead body —Don Esteban replied.

Once the table was served, they seated us between them, inviting us to eat and drink. The conversation turned to which mare was the prettiest, because that would be the last one assigned. They asked us what kind of services we were willing to do, and the tone rose as we explained it. Brenda said, without stopping chewing, that she loved swallowing cum and that they could come inside her without fear. Noelia said she liked anal sex, being split in two, and dirty talk while they fucked her in the ass. Katia, still on Don Gustavo’s lap, confessed in mangled Spanish that what turned her on was sucking two men at once, one in her mouth and one in her pussy. When it was my turn, I lowered my voice and admitted that I liked being fucked hard, without anyone looking at my cock, being treated like the woman I felt I was, and that I also sucked cock on my knees better than anyone. Don Mauricio choked on his wine and turned red to the ears. Rosa listened with her eyes wide open and, at one point, leaned toward her husband.

—Tonight I’m going to suck you until you fill my mouth, and then you’re going to fuck me from behind. I want to know what it feels like to have it up the ass, enough of all this pretending.

—Tomás, if you let your wife enter the draw like just another whore, we’ll let you enter too and take one of these to bed —said Don Gustavo, bursting out laughing, joined by the rest—. You might be unlucky and get your own wife.

Don Mauricio moved closer to me and started speaking softly. I was very pretty, he said, and he’d like it to be me who took care of him that night. He slid his hand up my thigh, under my skirt, and with the tip of his thumb he stroked my cock hidden beneath the red thong, very slowly, with a tenderness no boyfriend of mine had ever shown me. I returned some of that affection, which he appreciated by getting hard by the minute. I searched for his fly under the table and felt a long, hard cock throbbing against the fabric. I squeezed it, and he closed his eyes for a second, breathing deeply.

***

The time for the drawing arrived. They decided that the first one to be assigned, in a card game, would be Brenda. Before starting, Don Gustavo, acting as host, ordered Katia, who would be the last to be dealt out, to get under the table and suck him off. The blonde got on all fours under the tablecloth, and we all heard the sound of the zipper and the wet pop of a mouth making its way around a fat cock. It was a sight to behold: Don Gustavo playing his hand with a poker face while he let out the odd moan of pleasure, and now and then a deeper grunt when the Romanian must have taken him to the throat. The tablecloth moved with the rhythm of her head. Don Cosme, seated opposite, was pissing himself laughing.

—Gustavo, you bastard, it shows all over your face. She’s swallowing even your balls.

—Like a champion —he replied through clenched teeth—. This blonde sucks like the angels. Suck, suck, slut, I’m going to empty it right into your throat.

His knuckles went white from gripping the cards, he threw his head back, and let out a long roar. Under the table, Katia was heard choking for a second and then swallowing. It didn’t take long for him to finish, and Katia came out from under the table licking her lips, a white thread sliding from the corner of her mouth, which she wiped with her finger and brought to her mouth, sucking it slowly.

The cards decided. Brenda was assigned to Don Gustavo; Noelia, to Don Cosme; Katia, to Don Ignacio; Larisa, to Don Lorenzo; Vera, to Don Mauricio; and I, Daniela, to Don Esteban, the military man, who cursed and spat because he didn’t want me. Don Mauricio, smiling, offered a swap, saying it made no difference to him. So he ended up with me, which was exactly what I wanted, and the military man with Vera.

Rosa the housekeeper came over to me and, lowering her voice, said:

—You lucky thing. Ending up with sweet Don Mauricio. Just wait till you see how good he is. He puts it in slowly, but he puts it all in.

—Don’t kid yourself. I would’ve preferred a good stud who’d do me hard, pin me against the wall and shove it in without asking —I answered her—. This delicate gentleman, we’ll see whether he delivers or leaves me hanging.

Rosa burst out laughing and called me a whore. I shot back, laughing too:

—Come with us to the room later and I’ll dress you like a slut too. Because this one is definitely going to want to see me dressed like this all night, with the blue ribbon tight and the thong pulled halfway down my thigh.

Don Mauricio couldn’t even wait for them to finish clearing the table. He grabbed my hand, yanked me to my feet, and took me down the hall to the last room, the most secluded one. He locked the door and stood there looking at me like someone faced with something they’d wanted for a very long time and still couldn’t quite believe was real.

—I want to see all of you —he told me, his voice rough—. But without taking anything off. Just moving it aside.

He gently pushed me against the wall, lifted my transparent robe, and buried his face between my small breasts, sucking my nipples through the red bra until the fabric clung to me, wet, marking the hardened tips. I grabbed his head and arched my back to offer them better. He pulled one whole cup of the bra down and caught my bare nipple between his teeth, tugging on it, biting just to the point where it hurt and felt good at the same time. I moaned softly, mouth open against his hair.

—That’s it, suck my tits, bite them, make them get fully hard.

He went lower with his tongue, licked my navel, buried his nose in my groin over the red thong, and inhaled deeply, sniffing me like a dog. He moved the fabric aside and left my little cock out in the open, already half swollen, shiny at the tip. He looked at it for a second, almost tenderly, and took it into his mouth in one swallow, down to the root. I threw my head back against the wall and let out a long moan.

—Oh, fuck… like that, suck me, suck all of me, there’s no more room in your mouth.

Don Mauricio sucked like a man who’d been hungry for a long time. He sucked me down to the balls, licked the tight little eggs underneath, ran his tongue over the perineum, and came back up to the head, pressing it between his lips. With one hand he fondled one cheek under the thong, with the other he unzipped himself and pulled out his own. I looked down and went still for a second: it was long, thick, with bulging veins and a purple glans already leaking pre-cum. It didn’t look like the cock of a delicate man. It looked like the cock of someone used to pounding whoever ended up beneath him.

—Come here, get on your knees, I want you to suck me too —I asked, tugging his hair upward—. Suck that huge cock you’ve got, I wasn’t expecting it.

He stood up, turned me against the wall, and pressed the mouth of his cock to my lips. I opened and started swallowing it slowly, feeling how it filled my mouth first, then my throat. My tongue stroked the vein underneath as it advanced, and when I reached the base, I paused there for a moment, my nose flattened against his pubic hair, smelling him, not breathing. He grabbed my head with both hands and started fucking my mouth, slowly but deep, in and out with a firm rhythm.

—You suck so well, fuck, you suck so well, my beautiful whore —he panted—. That blue ribbon looks fucking great on you while you’re eating me. Swallow it, slut, swallow it all, I know you can.

I dribbled all over his cock, strings of saliva fell from my chin and soaked his balls. I grabbed his balls with one hand, squeezed them, massaged them, pulled them out over his trousers. I licked underneath, at the frenulum, and went back to taking him all the way down, squeezing his buttocks so he’d shove it in harder. I felt him swelling, getting even harder, and I pulled my head away in time, sucking only the tip.

—Don’t come yet, Don Mauricio, I want it inside. I want you to fuck me.

He dragged me to the bed, laid me face down, and lifted my hips, leaving me on my knees with my ass in the air. He pulled the red thong down over my thighs, not taking it off completely, and left it taut halfway down one leg. He spread my cheeks with both hands and stared. With my face pressed into the mattress, I heard him murmur something like “what a little whore’s ass you’ve got, Daniela,” and then I felt his hot tongue entering my hole. He licked and pressed the tip in, pulled it out and pushed it back in again, soaking me, loosening me. I grabbed a pillow and bit into it so I wouldn’t scream. No one had ever eaten my ass like that, with such hunger.

—Yes, Don Mauricio, eat it, put your tongue in, open me up —I moaned, rocking my ass against his mouth—. Get that whore’s ass ready for your cock.

He spat on my hole, spat into his hand, coated his cock well, and rested the glans against my opening. He pushed slowly. At first it burned, everything clamped shut by instinct, but he was stroking my lower back, talking softly to me, asking me to breathe. He pushed again, and this time the crown slipped in with a wet snap. I howled into the pillow.

—Hang on, beautiful, hang on, the worst part’s almost over —he panted, holding my hips—. I’ve almost got it all inside you, look how well you take it, you little slut.

He sank in all the way, until I could feel his balls flattened against mine. He stayed there for a moment, letting me feel all of him, throbbing. Then he started fucking me. Long, controlled thrusts at first, coming out almost to the tip and then plunging back in to the root. Each stroke pulled a sharper moan from me, and I pushed back so he’d drive deeper. The delicate Don Mauricio, the sweet one Rosa talked about, was tearing my ass apart with a cock that didn’t fit anyone by description.

—Harder, Don Mauricio, harder, don’t treat me like a lady, treat me like the whore I am —I begged him—. Fuck this ass, rip it open.

His face changed. He grabbed the blue ribbon around my neck and pulled it like a rein, throwing my head back. His other hand slammed into my hip, fingers digging in, and he began to drive into me for real. The sound of his hips crashing against my ass filled the room, a dry rhythmic slap mixed with my broken moans and his hoarse gasps. The mattress creaked. The ribbon dug into my throat and forced my back to arch even more.

—Like that, slut? That’s how you like it?

—Yes, yes, yes, like that, more, don’t stop, give it all to me…

He yanked it out all at once, turned me onto my back, folded my legs against my chest until the fishnets tightened on my thighs, and shoved it back in, this time looking at my face. He wanted to see me, wanted to see my mouth open, my eyes half-lidded, my little cock bouncing against my stomach with every thrust. He held it with two fingers and shook it in rhythm with the way he was fucking my ass, and that double caress, inside and out, was driving me insane.

—Come for me, beautiful —he asked, without stopping—. Come with my cock inside you, I want to see it, I want to see it slipping out of you.

I felt it coming, surging from deep inside me, driven by his glans rubbing exactly where it needed to rub. Everything tightened, my ass clenched around his cock, and I came like a female, in short bursts, with hardly any firmness at all, a thin white semen that spilled over my navel and onto his hand. He groaned when he felt me squeeze around him.

—Fuck, fuck, how you squeeze, slut, how you milk me… I’m coming, I’m coming inside, I’m coming inside you.

—Yes, come inside, fill my ass, Don Mauricio, fill me up completely.

He pushed three, four more times, deep, and spilled. I felt the spasms of his cock against the walls of my ass, the hot pounding of each shot. There were many, and very thick. He stayed there, buried in me, giving me the very last drop, his forehead pressed to mine and his breath ragged in my mouth. He kissed me, and it was a strange kiss, dense, a mix of gratitude and a beast still only half calmed down.

When he finally came out of me, a white thread slipped from my open ass and ran down my crack to the sheet. He looked at it, ran two fingers through the trail, gathered it up, and brought them to my mouth. I opened, and sucked them slowly, never taking my eyes off him, savoring his cum mixed with mine.

—You’re… you’re something else, Daniela —he murmured, still not fully catching his breath—. Tonight I’m not letting you go.

And the truth is, those ten days at the farmhouse gave rise to much more than anyone could imagine. But that first night, with the blue ribbon still tight around my neck, Don Mauricio’s cock still throbbing inside me, and cum sliding down my thighs, was only the beginning.