1. ...and Butterfly do-Part 2


    Date: 8/31/2017, Categories: Trans, Author: Adagio, Source: LushStories

    It was late. Overtime was mandatory. I worked on the assembly line at a small 'mom and pop' factory. I screwed screws into a doohickey, as things moved down an assembly line. It was boring, but it helped with the rent and bills, "just to earn a dollar." The plant was finishing a mass order from a vendor that sold toys. Like all hourly-earners, I was just a number at a time-clock. I, Karol Butterfly, transgendered, standing five-foot ten, with chestnut hair and blue eyes, tote a mere image of a tiny cock beneath the uniform I'm required to wear. With newly implanted breasts, pierced, and adorned with large gold hoops, I was enjoying my new life as a woman. In one interlude during the shift, I performed fellatio on a fellow 'gadget-wrapper' by practicing swallowing his scimitar of a cock. It was in the break-room, on a table near the microwave. He was warming his soup while stirring my adenoids with his dick. For extra income, after my evening shift at the factory, I hired myself out as an escort/whore. I picked up whispers and clients while working part-time as a hostess at 'The Starling's Brow', a private lounge, partly owned by Adagio Sabadicus. Just like last week, I arranged an assignation at a cheap motel. The office reeked of stale beer and bleach. A radio was screaming a Merle Haggard tune. In one corner, a cat was licking its paws, after finishing a few nibbles from something in a saucer. It then leaped onto the top of the TV, and swatted at flies. Behind the counter, ...
    wearing a shirt with a Hawaiian motif, was the night auditor. Wiping mustard from his lips and drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon from a can, he licked his fingers, belched obnoxiously, then picked his teeth with the pointed end of a pencil. "We're full up. Didn't you see the 'No Vacancy' sign?" He reached absently for the TV remote, intending to turn up the sound on The Beverly Hillbillies, which was playing. But it wasn't the remote, and he tasered the cat instead. The cat let out a screech and fell to the floor, lying there unconscious. The night clerk had the attitude of a gilded turd, with teabag strings of gold. I held my smile and inquired the room number for Ferzell Harron. "It's 108, and don't annoy the paying guests. This is a respectable establishment." The room was toward the rear of the motel, shaded beneath locust trees. A discarded commode, being used as an outdoor planter, adorned the landscaping with a lone cornstalk growing from the bowl. It was apparently intended to help prop up the ambiance of the motel. Knocking on the door, I could hear the ending of Merle's song, the same one playing at the front office. I knocked, and waited. Turning the handle, as it was useless rapping again, I stepped into a quagmire of sin. Two naked men were dipping their schlongs into the orifices of a long-legged blond. Laying on her back with her mouth full of bubbling cum, which dribbled down her chin, she swallowed, and smiled at me as I stepped in. The two men appeared exhausted, ...
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