Revelations of the Desperate

Info dbodine
12 Oct. '18

Amaya opens the door wearing a red lacey nightgown with a black bra and panties. 

Rubbing my shoulders to warm myself, “Amaya, I want the job.”

Amaya leaves the door open, saying nothing, walks back into the main room.  The fireplace is lit; a shirtless white guy, younger than me in his twenties, is on his knees.  Amaya sits in front of him spreading her legs and pulling the front of her panties to one side. 

Amaya says to the shirtless man, "Don't mind him,” guiding his face into her groin and sipping a glass of wine with the other hand.  

He starts to suck her flaccid member; watching Amaya dominating him is very erotic.  His flushed red face signals his embarrassment, so I move to the kitchen.  Amaya’s climaxic moans eventually announces I can enter the room again.    

The doorbell rings.

Amaya says, “Answer the door.  You start work tonight.”

   I open the door surprised to see a tall, beautiful brunette-haired woman, “Hi,” as I compose myself, “I’m Collin.”

“Hi, I’m Chanel,” walking into the house and grabbing my hand, “Amaya, girl you didn’t tell me he was this cute," siting near the fireplace, “Come sit with me, Collin.” 

“Can we go somewhere more private?” I ask.

“Okay, baby.  I know it is your first time."

Chanel’s expression signals she fully intends to explore if I have a submissive side.  I am still unsure about all of this, but honestly, I need the money, my car payment is behind.  No one will ever know that I secretly desire this experience as she closes the door. 

“Amaya, he is no longer an untouched flower,” as Chanel tries to walk and put on the other shoe on to leave. 

"Collin, you are glowing," Amaya says grinning underneath. 

I think I am glowing. 

My glow is dampened when my phone rings; I don’t want to answer it.  Amaya hands me a piece of paper with an address.  "You're going to the Train Station tonight. And by the way, who keeps calling you?” 


The Train Station is loud and crowded with so many transwomen.  I stand in the background taking in the sea of courageous daring woman who choose to be themselves.  I’m on their turf; but it feels surprisingly comfortable.    

I need to find my date, so I can make my money because I’m being evicted. 

A statuesque Hispanic woman touches me on the shoulder.  She has thick black hair, and her makeup is flawless.  The music pulls us onto the dance floor.  We grind against each other finding our rhythm.  She grabs me by my shirt collar and leads me to the men’s bathroom; she knocks on every door until she finds an empty stall. 

We start kissing as she locks the door behind us.   

I can't tell if she is trans or not.   She takes a step back, unzips and pulls her pants down.  I lean in to kiss her; I reach between her legs. 

She’s trans alright. 

"Turn around. Take off your pants,” grabbing my hips, "Do you feel me?"  

"Oh, God, yes,” as I feel her breasts touch my back. 

I brace myself against the toilet pipes as my submissive impulses eventually give into our lust for us to be one.

“That is a sweet piece of ass, baby!” she whispers in my ear.   Pulling up my pants I turn around to face my lover. 

Where did she go?      

I leave the Train Station unnoticed.  I throw my phone onto the car seat as I walk out of the Train Station.  Stop calling me!    


Standing at the room door of a cheap hotel; I answer a call from Amaya, “I was there!”  She is upset with me.  She says my date never saw me and she is not going to pay me.  Putting the phone in my pocket, this is crazy. 

Who screwed me in the men’s bathroom?

A very manly woman with big hands answers the door.  I hesitate to enter because I see two more cross-dressers sitting on the bed.  Their expressions reveal they are surprised to see a black man at the door.  My phone vibrates.    

“You must be Collin.  Come on in.  I’m Chrissy,” reaching to shake my hand and closing the door behind me.   

I stand there motionless and scared, but I start small talk to calm myself down. 

Chrissy opens a beer, “This is a girl’s getaway,” looking at her friend, “This is how we have fun.” 

I close my eyes.  God, give me strength! The utility company turns off my power tomorrow.    

I took a deep breath, opened my eyes and saw the truth in their faces.  I step toward Chrissy, “You are beautiful,” to kiss her as romantically and softly as I possibly can.  That kiss sets the stage for an authentic human connection.  Our sexual blending allows me to be the man they need, and they are the women they want to be for that moment. 

Chrissy opens an igloo, "Collin, would you like one for the road?"

“No, I’m good.  Ladies, take care of yourselves.”       

Standing in the parking lot, I hear my name.  Suddenly this large man behind me says, “We’ve been calling you!” He grabs me by the back of my neck, “You got Bootsie’s money?”


“You’re lucky to be alive.  You've been unconscious for two days," a man says. 

“How did I get here?  Who are you?”  

“My name is Tom Porter.  I am a bounty hunter.  I‘ve been tracking a woman named Amaya Livingston.  She jumped bail from Arizona for a felony crime,” reaching for his pad, “I was told you can help me.  Collin, how do you know Amaya?”  

Aching to sit up, “Amaya offered me a way to make some quick money.  I owe $25,000 to a man named Bootise for a gambling debt. I was desperate.”

“Do you know where I can find Amaya?”

“What did she do?”

The hospital door opens.  “Hi Collin, I brought you some flowers,” a familiar voice speaks.  We both turn and look to see Amaya standing in the doorway.