Date: Wed, 14 Jan 2004 11:44:34 +0000
From: Chris Angel <moonknuckle@hotmail.com>
Subject: Shannon, Chapter One

This story (Shannon) contains transgenderism and depicts sexual encounters
between men and transsexuals. If you have any ill will or resentment towards
that, do not read the story. Furthermore, this story is not intended for
anyone under the age of 18. Please make sure you are legal to read this. If
you aren't, then you are not allowed to read the story.

**********

Shannon

**********

Chapter One: Sweet Stuff

Manchester, England.

In a lot of places, you meet a lot of people that can really surprise you
with the things they do. They can be one thing one day, and be something
else the next day. The city was like the ever-changing wind. It was always
shifting, changing, and adapting to the climate of the world. And it just
happened to be Manchester that housed a certain phenomenon that you just
don't see every day.

That phenomenon was called `Shannon Hunter'.

Deep in the residential area of Greenhill, a suburb of Manchester, a young
`woman' strode through a downpour of rain, her dark blue umbrella shielding
her from the chipping wetness of the rain. As quickly as she could, Shannon
crossed the quiet road over to her building, a brick-boring type of place
you would expect a university student to attend. Shannon stepped over to the
front door of her building, past the gates, then thrust her hand into her
handbag to fish out her keys. After a struggle with lipstick, purses and a
mobile phone, Shannon managed to drag out her set of keys. A set of keys
that she dropped soon after.

"Damn." She mumbled.

The sweet platinum blonde bent over on sexy, feminine legs, and snatched her
set of keys back into her hand from the door mat, and quickly slotted them
into the door. As the door clicked open, Shannon stepped through the door
and shut it behind her, finally escaping the rain. The healthy, bouncing
teen shook her head feverishly to shake out droplets of rain, and did the
same with her umbrella. Whoever said that English rain was myth obviously
hadn't lived their very long. Still, Shannon had gotten used to it by now.

Shannon had moved to England with her mother when she was five. They were
both born, in actuality, within France, but due to the job opportunities and
the welfare system, her mother had felt it best to migrate. Of course, it
wasn't much of a move, France was more or less next door, she could re-visit
there anytime, but chances are, things wouldn't be the same. Not only had
Shannon developed a thick English accent over her previous French one,
Shannon had been male back then.

It seemed so simplistic to say that; `she had once been male'. But the truth
of the matter was that it was not a simple thing. Quite the opposite in
fact. A decision like that was not taken lightly, and Shannon was well aware
of the consequences. But consequences or not, Shannon loved the freedom she
felt with being a woman. To express her true self and embrace a happiness
that was denied to her everyday, that was the greatest reward someone could
hope for.

The young star shook her umbrella dry for a few minutes, then undid her
jacket, fastening it on the hook by her door. After she finished with that,
she walked over into her adjacent kitchen and started to rustle up something
hot to drink. While she did so, Shannon began to muse over her past. She
remembered the days when she was not known as Shannon Hunter, rather she was
a young boy called Nathan Hunter.

Shannon (or Nathan) had had an easy life up until his moving to England. At
first glance, he appeared to be no different than any other boy his age.
Playful, crazy about toys, fearful of girls, and ignorant of the world
around him. That was a standard life for a six-year-old boy. Then, when his
mother relocated to London, things began to change. Nathan found himself in
an environment that was similar, but different at the same time, like an
upside down world. The kids were rude and mean to anyone but their friends,
the food was so plain and boring, the weather was so unsettled. It all got
to Nathan, but he eventually got used to it and managed to get on with life.
Then when he hit is twelfth year, his little bout of peace ended.
Suddenly, all his peers had lost their fear of girls, and started their
childish conversations of `who's getting some pussy tonight, eh?'. Whereas,
Nathan, still wasn't very enthusiastic about women. In truth, his eyes
glanced towards the fellow schoolboys that he worked alongside.  Nathan was
particularly attracted to one, an 11-year-old boy called Charles.

Charles was just like most London East-End boys his age, arrogant, loud and
unashamedly homophobic, but there was something about him that Nathan just
couldn't quite resist. His silky black, wavy hair, pale blue eyes, they all
drew Nathan in, like a piece of metal, magnetized to another. It's easy to
guess that things didn't go well, because they didn't. Charles and Nathan
one day walked home together, right by an embankment. Charles declared that
he was `a little pooped out' in his cockney voice, and the two of them laid
down on the grassy clearing, one that was close to a railway line.

They talked, about computer games, music, what beer tasted like, and after a
while Charles nodded off to sleep. Nathan thought nothing of it at first,
but then he took a look at the sleeping boy. Nathan was drawn to him once
more, he felt his heart pound again, but this time he acted on it. Nathan,
ever so sweetly, placed a gentle kiss against, Charles' lips. Charles did
not wake up, but deepened the kiss in his sleep, thinking it mush have been
some beautiful girl. Their kiss lasted for a while, till Charles woke up.

It was then that he realized what he had done with Nathan, and his
temperament clearly presented his disgust. Screaming, `get the fuck off me'
Charles stood upwards, punched Nathan, and ran away, leaving a teary-eyed
Nathan behind. The next day, when the knowledge of this was passed around
the school, he heard nothing but `faggot' and `back-shotter' from all the
people he *thought* were his friends. Suddenly he was the outcast again, and
it felt much worse now. The taunting wasn't the real hurter, it was the fact
that Charles hated him so much. Was it really that bad to love him? It
didn't feel bad loving him. Well, whatever he wanted, Nathan spent the rest
of his four years at secondary school in agony. There was only one thing
that came close to cheering him up, that was when he would come home in the
afternoon, sneak up into the attic, and try on some of his mother's old
dresses.

Nathan felt... comfortable dressing as a girl. He really did. Nathan even
imagined that one day, Charles would come and see him like that and fall in
love with him. It never happened, but Nathan loved the idea. Eventually,
this little habit became a strong trend, until Nathan convinced himself that
he should have been born a girl. Later on in years, when Nathan reached 18,
he began to realize that his figure was not very masculine. His arms were
lacking in muscle, in fact they had no muscle. His legs were long and
shapely, his behind was firm and so well rounded. Not only that, but his
voice did not break during puberty, giving that sweet innocent sound to it.
At first, Nathan didn't really notice it until he dressed up in his mother's
clothes again and *really* looked at himself. His body was naturally
feminine and petite. After working up the courage, Nathan put on some
lipstick and took one of his mother's wigs. He brought himself to step out
his front door and walked to the outside, just to pick up some milk for
later on.

He was astounded by the horny stares and wolf-whistles he got as he stepped
out onto the street. It was a rush, an insane moment of impulsive action,
but for the first time in years, Nathan felt happy and comfortable with
himself. Which was why, when he moved to Manchester to attend University, he
decided to change his gender. Permanently. Instead of wearing a wig he grew
his hair longer, let his nails grow longer, and started fiddling with
make-up. On the 24th of August, of that year, Nathan Hunter became Shannon
Hunter, one of the most gorgeous `women' in Manchester.

It was easy to say that Shannon was good looking, anybody could be
considered good looking by a certain person's standards, but Shannon was
different. She really *was* insanely superb. Creamy skin, faultless legs,
dazzlingly bright blue eyes, long blonde hair. Though she was 19 years of
age currently, she looked as though she were 16. The only thing that rose
suspicion to Shannon's true gender was her flat chest. She was happy with
her body the way it was, though.

And so, Shannon had decided to live her life as a woman. It wasn't easy
living alone though, let alone as a woman, what's more, Shannon really
didn't have any skills that would be suitable for a job right now. She was
studying History to become a teacher, but that didn't help her now. The only
thing that Shannon could do for money (that was legal) was to work in a
`summer' job, like at a supermarket or at a fast food place. Now Shannon
wasn't fussy, but she wasn't happy with that kind of job. There was though,
*one* other `job' that she could do.
And that was to sell herself.

It was more comforting to regard prostitution as `selling her body' but
Shannon was not a fool. She realized how bad a move it was, and she didn't
like it one bit. But she really didn't have many options. People paid really
well for her services and it was something she was good at. Not only that,
but she only gave out for oral. Anything more than that was out of the
question.  Shannon knew that once she found a job she felt comfortable in,
she could drop that lifestyle for good, but for now, it was the easiest way
to make money.

The transgender youth finally pulled out a coffee jar from within one of her
numerous cupboards, then went to the fridge and pulled out a pint of milk.
After putting the kettle on the stove, she used a teaspoon to exchange some
coffee beans into a cup she had found. Four minutes later, the kettle was on
the boil, so rather than let it linger, Shannon poured the hot water into
the cup, shortly followed by the milk, to make a fresh cup of coffee. The
blonde sighed as she placed the cup at her lips and drank it, the warm
feeling to it was so soothing, especially after running around in the rain
like that. Coming back from University was never easy for Shannon though.
Being someone of her beauty and age, it was natural that she would attract a
lot of attention. This was, by no means, lost on the male populous of the
University of Manchester. It was one thing to be hit on, it was flattering,
but when it made her late for her classes, it became an annoyance that
Shannon could very well do without. That, unfortunately, was the case today,
and one of her lecturers literally chew her out for lateness in front of the
class. From the way he acted you would have believed that he was a secondary
school teacher. There was no need to be so strict when you work at a
university, right? Regardless, Shannon was forced to speak with him after
the session, and she was given the usual rabble. Don't be late, don't
interrupt someone's learning process by being late, etc. By now, Shannon had
kinda phased this talk out of her mind, letting it roll off her back. So
much the better, because she could do without the stress.

It was for this reason that she was late getting to her bus stop. And
expectedly, because she was late to her bus stop, she missed the latest bus
that could take her straight home. So Shannon had to walk the distance, a
forty minute walk, that took its toll on her feet and her nerves. The rain
started during the walk, but it was still something that made the day even
worse for her.

"Oh well." Shannon said. "I can't feel bad all day."

And she couldn't, really. She was on the game, and tonight was a regular
night. Today was Friday, a good day for business, most likely because it was
the start of the weekend. At present it was around 5.53, and Shannon had to
get to her `corner' at midnight, which left a lot of time for her to figure
out what she should wear tonight. There were regulars, people who paid for
Shannon again and again, and they liked to see Shannon in different outfits
that suited their tastes. Some of these men even paid extra for her to wear
something new for the next time she was available. She still didn't like
what she was doing, but Shannon did have to admit that she liked using the
extra money to buy new clothes. As soon as she downed the coffee, Shannon
placed the cup in her sink and walked out of the kitchen, and over to her
bedroom. She lived in a two-bedroom flat, it wasn't exactly cheap, but she
could afford it with the money she was pulling in. Shannon strolled past her
bed over to her wardrobe, and began searching for something to wear. Shannon
had an extensive wardrobe; some of the clothes were for personal use, like
her jeans shorts and dresses, others were for her `clients', like her
schoolgirl uniform and leotard. She wasn't going to wear anything special
today, mainly because no one had requested anything special in recent weeks.
All the better, because some of her wardrobe was less comfortable than the
rest, namely the things other people wanted her to wear.