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“Please no... not here.”
“Step out,” ignoring my plea, the tube bottom encircling my heels.
I am bottomless and begin to quiver... exposing myself in Tiffany’s!
“But the man!” I further protest in obeying her command.
“Yes, he’s a man... and therefore a lecher. On cue, you’ll utter your question... your six words... and I’ll conveniently step out to pay for your jewelry.”
The salesman returns, closing the door behind him, initially not noticing my nakedness, and the fact that Sergeant Kelly has her pocket knife at the ready.
“I only have one item that may be appropriate...” his words truncate as he notes I am sans covering from my tube top to my footwear. With my penis attached to my guiche piercing there can be no immediate determination of my sex, despite his intense stare.
The stunned salesman holds up what can only be described as a small wind chime... a clasp to be clipped to a collar and two hollow cylinders of gold hanging beneath. As he wordlessly hands it to Sergeant Kelly, the tubes clang together raucously... leaving no doubt as to kitty’s presence.
Sergeant Kelly smiles and nods then twirls her index finger. I know to turn about, displaying my finely shaped effeminate cheeks to the past middle aged salesman. I turn my head to look back over my shoulder. He gawks lustily. Lecher indeed.
“We’ll see if it fills the need. Bend and spread, Renee.”
I comply, knowing that the pose not only hints at my anal insertion but also causes the tip of my trapped penis and the small cable tie to pop into view. Sergeant Kelly cuts. I cannot gauge the man’s reaction, his enlightenment as to my former gender. But the silence is meaningful. There is no objection... not with an $11,000 sale at full price.
“For reasons that may be apparent to you, she prefers to keep this little thing tucked well out of the way... musses the front of her panties... when I allow her to wear such.”
I feel Sergeant Kelly’s finger gently brushing my penis tip as the clasp replaces the cable tip, reconnecting it to the guiche piercing and trapping my tiny organ between my thighs.
“Good girl... take a few steps.”
I do. My earrings sound... high pitched... barely noticeable. But below there is clamor... embarrassing... humiliating... the tubes hang a full two inches below the clasp which entraps.
“Excellent. Now, I will see the cashier about paying for the earrings. I’d like the chimes adjusted to hang an inch or two lower,” the man nodding with the request, “and Renee will pay for this,” her hand extending to flick my wind chimes. More clamor results.
With that Sergeant Kelly arises and takes her bag.
“What are you offering for it, Renee? Make the man an offer,” Sergeant Kelly chides as she opens the door.
I finally find the words, hearing Sergeant Kelly chuckle as the door closes behind her... “May I suck your penis, Sir?”
***
Part Four
Fortress Mansion of Pablo Escobar
Secluded Mountains of Colombia
“Make arrangements to visit New York, Eduardo. And we’ll need to bring some muscle. You did send that text message two months back.”
“Of course, leader. And it went through.”
Pablo Escobar, prompted to viewing the internet posting of the ‘skull fuck’, is concerned. He has advanced funds to the New York agent, received an initial reply and then nothing. Though the advancement is insignificant, he is not one to be taken advantage of... not again... and having received the IP address where the high definition video has been posted, the reminder of the distasteful shakedown irritates... bringing to mind the possibility of more extortion... from Ramona Cortez... from her bulldyke knife wielding companion... perhaps even his New York agent is plotting... having this Renee transsexual under wraps and squeezing him for details as to Escobar’s interest.
Can no one be trusted?
***
New York, New York
Renee/Robert Warren
