The T(h)rustful Voice

Notice: This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, events, etc., is coincidental. All characters who perform sexual activities in this story are eighteen years or older.

/ Foreword /

Yes, the 'H' in brackets was totally intended, EOT.

This is my first story published here at Literotica, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated. I hope you'll enjoy reading as much as it was enjoyable for me to write. If you happen like it, please vote & comment.

Just a few important things before you start to read:

The first thing, this story has two major themes, which are not that commonly found intertwining:

incest

among siblings and a relationship with a

transsexual

woman. I thought mixing these two would be interesting, but hey, you decide if that's your cup of tea.

The second thing, this story likes butts -- big or small -- and it cannot lie. There's a pretty big amount of

anal sex

and

ass worship

, together with some of loosely related fetishes like ass to mouth (later in the story) and others (to a lesser degree). You've been warned. ;)

The last thing, Part One is, in fact, an extended intro to the multi-part series -- 'extended' would be a good word, I think, because intros generally tend to be a little shorter. The next part will contain more sex and more action in general. I'm not saying it'll come fast, though (pun intended?).

So, no more talking and have a good read!

~ Heatseek3R

*****

- THE T(H)RUSTFUL VOICE -

PART ONE: "Broadening The Horizons"

Chapter 1

The room he had been led to was white and sterile to the point where it was a little frightening. A feminine hand pointed at the right door and he opened it absent-mindedly, then stepped inside. The door closed behind him almost instantly, just like in some B-grade horror movie. Ridiculously white surroundings almost got him blinded, and it took him a little time to notice a certain bench-like instrument in the middle of the room -- something in no doubt designed to lie down on it and suffer. At least that was what he had thought when he had first spotted it. It was his very first visit there and he still wasn't sure if going there were a right decision.

His aim was to get rid of redundant hair in certain places, both for comfort, self-confidence, and hygiene purposes. He believed that the beginning of summer was always the best time for experimentation, especially when it came to appearance.

During the past few summers he had changed a lot: when he was 16, he started to trim his pubic hair regularly; when he was 17, he let hair of his head to grow much longer for the first time. During the last summer holidays, he decided to grow facial hair -- a short goatee. A few weeks before, another, much smaller tuft of hair had become visible right under his lower lip -- he was growing a soul patch or something of a kind -- whether it was going to stay was yet for him to decide.

Now he was 20 years old; he felt the need to remove hair from his body, from quite a few places, including those you shouldn't mention during breakfast with your family. At the same time, he wanted his chest hair to stay; he didn't give a damn about fashion or anything, he liked it and that was what counted, hell, even one of his younger sisters (the one that didn't hate his guts) had said once that it looked cool.

He had never been to a beauty parlor before, and now -- in all honesty -- he was scared and then some. All the time spent in the parlor's waiting room had driven him even more anxious about this whole hair removal thing he wanted in the first place. He couldn't wait for it to start, but at the same time, it had made him so afraid of things to happen behind the closed door of the bright, white-tiled, sterile room.

He was exaggerating, of course, he had to admit it at last. Neither these white tiles were all that blinding nor the place was as creepy as he saw it. This place wasn't anything like those so-called 'massage parlors', and he had been trying to remind this to himself for a moment now. This place was better than that, it looked professional, and by the way, majority of customers were women if that could help to prove it. 'It can't be that bad,' he thought at last.

He spotted a woman who was there to tear hair off his body, and he couldn't help but smile with a corner of his lips. She was leaning against the high, neatly upholstered bench in the middle and waiting for the next client. Her petite body looked very attractive in a white uniform, even when its top part wasn't showing much of her cleavage. She was almost his height, with orange-red wavy hair that lay on her shoulders freely in a slightly chaotic manner. The red was contrasting with girl's fair skin tone.

"Hi. How are we doing?" she asked, smiling sympathetically. Her voice was quite amiable and sexy: soft and cheerful, but also with a little bit of hoarseness to it.

"Hi. I'm a little scared," he replied, being nothing but honest, and let himself smile.

The redheaded girl chuckled and that was the moment when Max realized how gorgeous she was. Her face was heart-shaped and her skin had a healthy look to it. Her pretty nose had mild freckles around it. Her lips were not exactly full, but also not thin; they were of natural, warm color. She looked Irish, he could say, or maybe part-Irish -- not that uncommon thing in Maine, where every sixth person was of that descent, statistically speaking. If he were to guess her age, he would say twenty-three.

The feature that got him the most were her eyes. Their not-so-common tint was balancing somewhere between the two rarest of natural colors, blurring the line between the green and blue. It was once said that the eyes were the mirror of one's soul, but this clearly wasn't the case here -- her eyes had some strange barrier behind them, which no gaze could penetrate with ease, forget his. He found himself staring a bit, their image being downright bewitching as he perceived it.

In desperation, he tried to look elsewhere, so his eyes went straight south of all possible directions.

"So, what's your name?" the girl asked just a second before he would have glanced at her breasts. She didn't want him to spot her already hardening nipples... just yet. She was genuinely shocked by her own line of thinking and reaction. Her nipples had never been this hard for a man before, not as far as she could remember. Her bra wouldn't help much here as its material was too thin to mask it; she was wearing it partly for comfort, and mainly because it was accentuating the feminine shape of her chest. There was also a requirement for all female workers wear these.

She thought it was because of his gaze, the way he had been looking in her eyes, that made them erect. He didn't even know her name, but he instantly adored her eyes -- she was quite sure of that. She had felt a surprising tingle between her legs too while he was looking in them. The redhead flushed a little as if asking someone's name were embarrassing.

"My name's Max," he answered, a simple smile drawing on his face.

"Alice. Nice to meet you." She copied the expression from his face. He reached out for a handshake and she happily reciprocated.

"Sit down, please," she pointed at the bench, a spot right next to her. He sat down in silence and felt a little uncomfortable; such a pretty, (probably) natural redhead, was a somewhat common motif in his fantasies.

"I'm gonna ask you a couple of questions," she announced.

He gave her a silent nod, now looking a little nervous as well. Alice studied him curiously, hoping she was showing a professional look on her face at this moment.

Max had to be in his (very) early twenties. At first glance, he seemed to be a really nice and friendly guy. He was something just below six feet in height if her eyes had measured him right. The young man looked pale and had a decent enough figure; his stomach was sticking out a little, but it was nothing to dislike, especially since it was compensated by the wide chest he had. He was brown-eyed, had thin lips and some facial hair -- namely a short goatee and a somewhat cute tuft of hair below his lower lip, the way she saw it.

Max smelled of sweat and some cheap male deodorant (which obviously did only half its job). It crossed her mind that she was enjoying his scent -- especially its natural, slightly irritating part for the most. The realization of this startled her and made her feel a bit like a weirdo.

She decided not to think about it and finally asked these few routine questions, e.g., if he were by any chance allergic to wax. He wasn't, from what he knew. Then she casually noted that wax allergy is a rare occurrence anyway, so he shouldn't be worried. Then was the question about hemophilia, just for the right amount of unsettlement. She was quite surprised it didn't bore him to death, being as boring as standard procedures could ever get.

After a couple more of such questions, she finally asked him if he were sure where from he wants hair to be removed, or if he needed some advice instead. He looked really nervous. He mindlessly took the third option and answered with a simple 'yes'.

"You meant you need an advice?" she asked in a polite tone.

"Uh, yeah... I don't want to look weird after that wax thingy," he smiled sheepishly and blushed a bit. It made her chuckle and smile wider. He noticed her reddening subtly again as well.

"Max," she said, "May I ask you why you decided to go to a beauty shop in the first place? An important date?" She looked at him with curious eyes and sweet, innocent smile. But was it really all that innocent?

"Wishful thinking," he replied almost instantly. With a slight grimace and a sigh, he pointed with his eyes at his belly or somewhere below. "I thought that by removing hair from... certain places would make me feel more... self-confident."

"Great choice. Strip down for me."

She facepalmed herself as soon as she heard the ridiculous words that escaped her mouth and the semi-erotic tone, in which she spoke them. Then she sighed and her hand slid down her forehead, covering the upper half of her face.

"Uh, don't get me all wrong, but... did you just hit on me?" he asked in a quiet, genuinely surprised voice.

"Uh uh?" she confirmed somewhat apologetically together with a nod, watching him through the space between her fingers with her right eye. "Sorry."

He laughed it off as soft as he could, then said, "I think I should, like um, return the favor?"

Alice uncovered her face and cast a short, equally inquisitive and surprised glance at him, and then blinked a few times. Then she looked down, thinking in silence and chewing her lip nervously. She touched his knee cautiously, and then the lower part of his thigh as she slid her hand about halfway up its height. She smiled, timidly at first. It was like the sun making its appearance after a violent thunderstorm, beams of bright sunlight piercing their way through dark clouds.

She cleared her throat, more likely because of a habit than of need.

"If you really wish to, um, 'return the favor', I

highly suggest

you hold me now," she said. A playful, prolonged, and impossible-to-miss wink made a guest appearance on her face. "Because you know, how could I

insist

you do any naughty things?" She gave him this infamous 'innocent little girl' look, complete with a small pout and her head leaning to the side and asked, "Hug me, Max? It's just a

polite question

, you know."

With sudden, hormones-induced bravery and a smirk on his face, he held her in the waist and pulled himself much closer, causing her to laugh a bit at his clumsiness. He laughed it off as well. Being just a few short inches from her, he blew a prolonged stream of cool air down on her lips and she started to shudder slightly, an equally shaky sigh escaping her mouth. He finally hugged her, but she pushed him back a little; she tried to kiss his lips, but they were out of her reach, always for a mere inch.

"Kiss me?" she asked, trying her best not to grin too wide. Her eyes became unclear as if she were dreaming; he couldn't take his eyes off her and neither could she off him. His chest was becoming a much, much warmer and louder place. "Pretty please," she added in a dreamy voice that matched her eyes perfectly.

In no time, he was avidly sucking her lips, his arms locked tight around her body, keeping her close. She couldn't believe how good it felt to be kissed by him, and after a short moment, to be able to finally kiss him back; her tongue, playful and with mind of its own, made some first, a little shy advances to probe his mouth, and was greeted with no resistance other than his tongue trying to flirt with hers a bit. The sensation of making out was so great that she wished to continue it for all eternity; it was just so damn cunning. Once they naturally broke the kiss, it felt like a perfect idea for them to simply look at each other, feeding their memory-hungry minds. She was the first one to speak.

"That was great... no, amazing," she whispered and playfully avoided his kiss. He saw her biting her lower lip impatiently. "Now show me that body. I mean it this time."

He wouldn't let this angel wait any longer.

She helped him to get naked real quick, watched him turn around and tie a towel around his waist, and then made sure he was lying on the bench both properly and comfortably. It was her job, after all. She couldn't have missed a clear outline of his erection in the front of the towel she had given him. It was suddenly quite attractive to her. She also checked if his clothes weren't all over the floor -- it would only draw suspicion.

The next few quarters of an hour were filled with opposing sensations: the touch of her cold fingers and slightly cooler palms -- great; hot wax poured onto his skin -- nice; the feeling of being skinned alive -- awfully painful, obviously. Then there were a few shaves with a top quality safety razor here and there, where waxing wasn't a good option.

In general, she was working as if he were just another customer; she was being polite, asking if he felt alright, helping him wrap up towel around his pubic area again when it hadn't been currently 'worked on', etc. This whole situation seemed weird, considering her request just minutes ago: "Strip down for me." Hot damn.

All this faked normality was arousing him more and more, to the point of a sudden pre-ejaculation. He was really embarrassed, but all she did was cast a surprised glance at him, and then, out of the blue, she licked the artificial amount of seed clean from his belly and basically sucked it off the tip of his still-erect penis; she swallowed it down her throat, moaning quietly and happily, kissed the tip and then returned to work as if nothing had ever happened. And that innocent smile on her face; 'Is there something wrong, sir?' it kept asking. 'Innocent my ass,' he thought. Alice was a sex-driven demon and he craved her like no girl before her, even if he knew her only for this short period of time.

Alice was acting like a professional beautician (cosmetician? hair removal lady? -- he didn't know the proper name). Max just knew that she had to be working in this job for at least a few years straight; her skills just explained it for her. She didn't let him suffer too much, just the required amount that everyone needed to go through to see the finish line and their brand new, hairless butt. Max chuckled uncontrollably at the thought. Alice smiled a little wider, planted a soft kiss on his now hairless butt cheek, and then went on with her work. It felt nice, the touch of her wet lips. Seducing. He was worried he would come at any moment, this time in full, all from pain, her faked innocence, and naughty little things she would do to him once in a while.

The worst pain was when she was removing hair from his crack, and lower, between his thighs. The pain was killing him, making him groan and swear under his breath (which made her giggle after a moment), but he knew he had to grin and bear it. There was no way around it; the only way led to hell and through, like in that old-school shooter game -- he forgot the title.

What he felt after Alice finished torturing his rear end, left him amazed and shocked at the same time. He was still on his knees and forearms, totally unsuspecting and utterly relieved that she had actually finished her daily bread-earning torture. Her palms began to meander all across the now smooth skin of his ass, and in the meanwhile, she planted a couple of soft kisses on its sweaty surface. He thought it was so hot, and his groin stirred approvingly. Still, it was but a beginning.

"Max? I know this is not a so-called 'massage parlor' -- and I swear, it really isn't -- but I wanna show you something very intimate and fun," she whispered into his ear as she stroked his backside. "It'll be just between the two of us, okay?" Her voice, even if quiet, was bursting with excitement. "Just say 'stop' if you want me to, well, stop," she added and instantly chuckled. Her little speech sounded better in her head, she noticed not for the first time that day. He had nodded timidly at everything she said, briefly wondering what was ahead of him.

At first, Max felt her hands parting the halves of his butt, then one short stream of hot air on his balls and something wet and warm -- her velvet tongue, running up the length of his crack. All of his muscles tensed and he twitched chaotically. It wasn't really happening, he had to be dreaming. Her pointed tongue stopped at his entrance and... she kissed it so affectionately, she did! Max was stunned, to put it mildly, and his moan had shown it fully.

He heard her blissful, soft laugh, which she tried to keep low.

"You're so tense, try to relax, sweetie," she said with care. "It'll be better this way."

"And what if anyone sees you like this? I mean, Alice, your job..."

"No one will come, trust me."

"How do you know?"

"They all think I'm a raging lesbian."

"Wait, what the—?!"

"Shh, kiddo. A lesbian. But I'm really bisex." She kissed his anus again and with passion. "Enough for a proof?"

He sighed and chuckled, his head bursting at the seams from new, shocking information and his brain's screams for further oral stimulation. He thought he might learn to like it, a lot.

"Just rim me," he managed to say.

The redhead giggled, unable to say a word.

As he was slowly becoming more and more relaxed (but also completely stiff in one particular spot), her greedy tongue kept on dancing wildly, exploring the new, virgin territory. It went down to the end of the crack, touching sensitive flesh right behind his sack, and went up again, to stop at her main point of interest -- his anus, which she licked once more, with a gasp full of lust.

She wrapped her arms around his butt, which he immediately stuck out at her hungry mouth. This time, she focused even more on licking on and around his pulsing, distinctively smelling rim. She was feeling delirious and horny as fuck and nothing short of, and so was he. It was incredible. Alice thought his ass would swore love to her tongue if it only could speak. She sensed him shaking and shivering clear as though she was experiencing it herself, and she heard his quiet, shaky gasps. She got that as a cue and started to kiss his tight hole at first, but it turned into a full-blown, relentless sucking in no time, the sweet sensation of suction that drove him mad for more. His gasps had become much louder for a moment.

Seeking for a well-deserved, short breath, she parted her sweet lips from his flesh and was rewarded with an unexpected fart. He heard her giggling hysterically and felt a non-violent, playful spank. She let the smell fill her lungs as if it were an expensive perfume and sighed in shameless pleasure.