Chapter 3

Margaret and Claus have been away for 4 days, and should be back tomorrow.

Hilda and I have been busy; she’s been on her blog, skype, zoom, and even the news. Material is flooding into the big hall in town, several volunteers are sorting and boxing the next truckload of relief supplies.

My time has mostly been domestic chores around the house.

And fucking of course.

Yesterday Dimitra, a tall beautiful Ukrainian lady came to stay; technically a refugee, she arrived in a nice Porsche.

She was very blond, very white, with wideset pale blue eyes.

Hilda kissed her in a way that only lovers kiss. They spoke together in English as I made lunch. Dimitra had believed president Biden when he said the Russians were about to invade, she’d sold her club, withdrawn the proceeds in Euros, and managed to get out in her car as the war started.

“Did you have any trouble at the border?” Hilda asked,

“No, not at all.” Dimitra said. “They did notice I’m still legally Dimitry, so I showed them my breasts! Haha, luckily they didn’t ask to look between my legs.”

I looked at her face in surprise; she looked so feminine, it was hard to believe what I was hearing. Even her tone was high pitched like a woman. Her height was the only real clue, she was at least 6 feet tall.

Dimitra noticed my stare; “We have the best plastic surgeon, right darling?” She said.

I was disgusted; I couldn’t really fault her for what she’d done, yet it seemed wrong to get away with everything when so many lost it all because they were a week too late.

“How is Dr. Andre?” Hilda asked.

“He has no time for cosmetic work now.” Dimitra answered, the mirth gone from her voice.

“Don will help you move into the guest room.” Hilda said.

“Oh darling, I thought I would share your bed.” Dimitra pouted comically.

“Don is sharing with me.” Hilda informed her jovially.

“That’s obvious darling, he looks delicious. Is he trained?”

“Work in progress.” Hilda told her, even though I was standing right next to them. “How are you, darling?”

“I need a bath and a bed, I’m exhausted.” Dimitra said.

“Don, go fill the bath, make sure there are fresh towels. Coffee, darling?”

“Oh yes please.” Dimitra said.

“Claus and I have been in isolation together for two years, it’s been hell.” Hilda was saying to Dimitra as I came back into the kitchen. “Now he’s with young Margaret, She’s a nice girl but she has no dress sense at all, and can’t even cook.”

“And Don?” Dimitra asked.

“He can’t cook either but he’s learning.” Hilda told her. “He’s a good boy, would you like a massage? He has good hands.”

“That would be lovely, after the bath though.” Dimitra said, eyeing me up and down.

I didn’t like her, or the way she looked at me.

“I need to sell my car.” She added, “Maybe you know someone. The paperwork might be tricky but I need the cash fast.”

“Why? I thought you got away with the money from your club.” Hilda said.

“I did, but then I was at the receiving center in Romania for two weeks, I spent it all helping the refugees. Now what I want is a big tour bus. There are thousands of young women there, Hilda; children too. I can’t do much but I have to do what I can.”

My opinion of the tall trans woman rotated 180 degrees when I realized she’d given away everything she had.

“Wait, you have a passenger bus license?” Hilda asked as they went towards the bathroom.

“Yes, from when I was touring with my band.” Dimitra said as she undressed. “Want to see?” she asked me.

“Go on and look, Don.” Hilda told me. “Dimitra is an exhibitionist, she likes to be looked at.”

“Especially by hot teenaged Cis boys.” Dimitra agreed.

Dimitra’s skin was milky white, her limbs long and thin. Her breasts was large and stood just slightly too high, her waist was really narrow and her ass more fleshy than Hilda’s but thinner than Margaret’s.

Her cock hung free, dangling between her smooth shapely thighs as she stepped into the bath.

I had a bad feeling; fear.

“Oh god, that’s so good.” She sighed. She put her hand between her legs and gave herself a little pull, laughing at my horror as it got erect.

“I’m fully functional.” She informed me as I fled to the kitchen.

“Don,” Hilda told me a half hour later, “Come give Dimitra a massage.”

“I’m not really comfortable with that.” I said.

Hilda slapped me across the face angrily; I was totally shocked. “You little shit!” she hissed, “Uncomfortable! Dimitra is more man than you’ll ever be, and more woman that you’ll ever get! I told you, my house my rules. Now you get in there and get to work! Uncomfortable!”

Ok, she was right; I could give Dimitra a massage, that was reasonable. The long thin pale creature was lying on the massgage bench face down, waiting for me.

As I put oil on her fine flesh and laid my hands on her back, I felt slightly nauseous; I tried to ignore it, I knew it was just homophobia.

Hilda was on her laptop next to us.

“I have a reply from a friend; he knows a manager of a bus lease company.” She told us as my fingers pressed into Dimitra’s long spine. The muscles were tight and fibrous, sore and overused.

“Ah, that’s good.” Dimitra groaned.