The Greatest Liar, Date With The Devil

The Greatest Liar, Trans Erotica With A Purpose
© Alexandra Rios 2019

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction. All characters (including the narrator), firms, business entities, organizations, teams, products, medical providers, medicines, governments, government officials, celebrities, schools, religious figures and religions, courts, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual firms, business entities, organizations, teams, products, medical providers, medicines, governments, government officials, schools, religious figures and religions, courts, places, events and incidents is purely coincidental.
Or, as one of the characters might tweet, “I’m not saying that it happened, might have, maybe not, but you can’t rule it out, maybe we’ll find out some day, or not. We’ll see.”

The Greatest Liar Synopsis

The Greatest Liar recounts the male to female transition of Alex Rios, a smug but secretly transgendered high schoolboy-genius, into Alexandra Rivers, a multi-faceted and boldly successful woman, in the early 2000’s, when transsexuals struggled to gain social acceptance and legal recognition. Alexandra loses and gains family and friends while she pursues dangerous passages to reach her female destiny and restore her family’s legacy.
She finances her transition from the androgynous Alex to the alluring Alexandra by prostitution, pornography, and academic grants to study the lives, diseases and deaths of transgendered sex workers. Research and whoring take her from the frozen strolls of Detroit, to the steamy soi’s of Thailand, the luxury hotels of Italy and Las Vegas, the Red Light District of Amsterdam, and to the privileged heights, and desperate depths of Los Angeles. Alexandra survives dangerous encounters with transphobic killers, drug lords and gangbangers, overcomes corrupt corporations and cops and wins over skeptical scientists to claim her place as a woman both in her family and at the apogee of academia.

Author’s Note

This episode is an epilogue to The Greatest Liar, Trans Erotica With A Purpose”, and is set in 2016, about 8 years after the conclusion of TGL. Its centerpiece is a flashback which relates back to 2006, and in the context of TGL, occurs in the context of Chapter 17, between “Ribbons in Her Hair” and “Pro Bono.” In the time frame of the flashback, the protagonist, Alexandra Rios, has adopted Alexia Riviere as an alias because Alexandra has been labeled as a terrorist.

Date With The Devil

You can leave your homeland, but your homeland never leaves you. I’d wandered the world, and invented and inhabited the personas of an Italian courtesan, an Amsterdam window whore, a Belgian fugitive, and a Swiss scientist, but the psychological scars of my transsexual transition in America were as much a part of me as the “y” chromosomes hidden in every cell of my outwardly feminine body.
Ensconced abroad, I observed with hope the emergence of transgendered television characters, media personalities, politicians, beauty pageant contestants, and even in that most rigidly intolerant organization, the American military. But each triumph was offset by horrors ranging from bathroom bills targeting transsexuals to the ever increasing onslaught of trans-femicides whose brutality was exacerbated by their posthumous mis-gendering in police reports and by the press.
And the reluctant sponsor of the pageant that included the transwoman was now leading a political party based on a program of intolerance and hatred targeting many minorities, but especially transsexuals. What could I, an expatriate who’d renounced her US citizenship, do to stem this vile tide? My mind spooled back to a weekend I’d spent in Vegas, long ago.

Flying First

My sponsor JC needed arm candy for a client dinner in Sin City.
“Aren’t there plenty of girls in Vegas?”
“I don’t want to get tagged with hiring local talent.”
“Lucky me. I’ll ask my boss.”
I was a nanny, personal assistant and fuck toy for Ronaldo, a fading soccer legend. His wife Rafaela replied to my text.
“We’ll make do, but we need you the next four weekends, so don’t make any more plans without asking.”
She would probably use my absence to recruit my replacement.
I met JC at Burbank Airport to take the client’s private jet, a dark blue Boeing 727. The flight steward led us past 24 spacious seats, a formal dining room, a gourmet quality kitchen, several conference rooms, and several full sized lavatories, to a spacious, but over the top master bedroom.
“You can make yourselves comfortable here, the boss is already in Vegas. We’re just bringing him the plane for his ride back to New York.”
A bottle of champagne was on ice bedside. The attendant popped the cork and poured. JC clinked my glass.
“Better than first class, isn’t it?”
“Nice, but I’ve flown a Gulfstream VI, smaller but more chic than this. All of this gold paint is giving me a headache.”
“Me too, I know just the cure.”
He pointed to the bed.
“Ever hear of the thirty five thousand foot club?”
“I’m a long time member.”
“Should have known, but I need to check your credentials.”
“Shouldn’t we wait till we’re airborne?”
“It’s a short flight.”
“In that case, the in-flight entertainment starts now. Get comfortable while I freshen up.”
I rinsed my face in the gold plate pedestal sink, drizzled scented oil into the bidet, and let the warm stream cleanse and relax my made in Thailand pussy. I refreshed my makeup, and wrapped myself in a thick robe embroidered with a coat of arms decorated with eagles, a lion, and a Latin phrase. JC was reclined beneath a sheet tented by a seven inch erection.
“Showtime already?”
“Daddy’s little helper.”
I let my robe fall to the floor. The sheet rippled as his cock twitched.
“God, you’re stunning.”
I turned, spanked my butt, turned again and twirled my head, my hair floated like a cloud, and settled over my shoulders.
“I’m so in the mood for a flying fuck.”
I pulled back the sheet, knelt between his legs, and deep throated him, pumped my head a hundred times until my eyes blurred and my breath was ragged.
“Oh my god, Alexia, you’re incredible.”
The engines rumbled to life, the plane backed and taxied.
I gazed up at my sugar daddy.
“Do we need seat belts?”
He shook his head.
“If we crash, I’ll die happy.”
The plane accelerated, I sat astride JC in cowgirl, teasing his cock head between my labia as the engines revved. I bobbed above him, let his cockhead breach, then unsheathe, from my lower vagina, as the plane’s tires rumbled and bumped over the tarmac. When the plane’s nose lifted, I slammed my hips down, rocketing his cock deep in my pussy, powered inward as though propelled by the plane’s thrusting jets, my body canted parallel to the plane’s angle of attack.
JC whooped “Oh my god,” the plane bounced over the runway, half aloft, its nose tilting skyward. I slammed my mons downward on JC’s cock, my breasts bobbed like pendulums over JC’s ravenous lips, I bucked up and down, synchronized my pelvic pulsations to the jet’s jolting turbulent, thunderous ascent, and harmonized my moans with the roar of its engines, rode him like a Valkyrie until gravity gave up and we were aloft, and I slowed, rocking to the rhythms of the plane’s wings.
“Oh-oh, we forgot lift our seatbacks to the full upright position.”
“And you didn’t power down you device. OK to move around the cabin?”
He nodded, I dismounted, kissed my pussy juice from his cock, and spooned beside him and gazed out the plane’s window at the piney, rugged San Gabriel Mountains receding behind a gauzy veil of smog. He cupped his hand over my breast, fondled my mons, and fucked me from behind. We lolled and frolicked as the flight leveled, the smog receded, and we flew and fucked over a landscape of stark, stony cliffs and gorges.
“Am I blocking your view?”
“You are the view, Alexia.”
“Do me doggy, so you can see.”
He rolled me to my stomach, his cock corkscrewed inside me, and he looked over my shoulder as we overflew a city.
“Look at that godforsaken shithole, Barstow.”
“We’re so privileged, I feel like a princess.”
“Make a billion or so, and this plane could be yours.”
The plane’s nose tilted downward.
“After that takeoff, I can’t wait for the landing.”
“Can’t wait, need to shower. Fuck my brains out now.”
JC throbbed, my body shook, our flesh slapped, but he struggled, tired, softened and shrank.
“Sorry, I don’t know if-”
“Not to worry.”
I kissed his cock erect, lubed it, and nestled it between my breasts.
“Try these baby cakes.”
He squeezed my boobs around his penis and glided between them, I cupped my hands over his hips and pushed and pulled, gazing up at his face, red and sweaty with exertion. I kissed his cockhead when it grazed my lips, and licked a droplet of precum from the tip.
“Mmm, delicious, can I have the rest?”
“Yeah, wait.”
He seized and wanked his cock, I stroked his balls, and he grunted “Oh my god” as he erupted ropes of glistening cum over my breasts and collapsed atop me, his sweat and cum mingling on my skin.
“Better than first class.”
I pushed him off to the side and wiped myself with the bedding.
“Remind the steward to change the sheets.”
“No worries, his boss is a famous germ-a-phobe.”

NDA

JC had meetings with his client’s accountants and bankers, so I had the day to myself. Our suite was too conspicuous a perch to prostitute from, so I contented myself with displaying my T and A poolside, reading the latest issue of Nature. The cabana that came with the room was soon besieged with hot guys, and I turned down enough drinks to qualify as member of AA. The third Pellegrino that I ordered arrived with an envelope.
It contained a non-disclosure agreement, and a voucher for $5,000 of chips at the Bellagio casino. It called for a sexual encounter with an unnamed male in the evening, which I could disclose only to JC to get his consent. I texted JC.
“Someone sent me a legal document.”
“I prepared it.”
“You consent?”
“You’d be doing me a favor, client development.”
I was barely living on the skimpy salary Ronaldo’s team paid me and JC’s allowance. JC was essentially pimping me, which both repelled and thrilled me, so I signed it, put it on the tray and put the voucher in my purse. I wandered through the casino, got my chips, went to craps table, placed one bet and lost, returned to the cashier, cashed out, and stuffed $4,990 into the NDA envelope.
JC sent a car that shuttled me to Caesar’s for dinner in a private room. JC met me at the door and introduced me to the guest of honor, a multi-divorced, multi-bankrupted celebrity real estate tycoon, famous for firing people on TV.
“Now I see what JC’s been bragging about.”
“I’m honored to meet you.”
“JC, you’re overpriced and overrated, but this lady makes up for it.”
JC smiled and waved off the insult.
“Alexia brings special joy to every occasion.”
JC left to blather about real estate with the client’s underlings, leaving me alone with our host, who pointed me to a couch in a quiet corner. When I sat, I felt a small hand probing my pussy through the gossamer fabric of my Dolce & Gabbana gown. He smiled and stared, like a wolf eyeing prey.
“Am I in your way?”
“Depends, are you the guy from the NDA?”
“Smart girl.”
“Then help yourself.”
He stroked my labia, his childlike fingers traced the curves of my ass cheeks, circled my waist, grazed the bodice of my dress, he sniffed my neck, stroked his fingers through my hair. The circle of business guys ignored him, but their dates glared at us, eyes flashing envy.
“Don’t worry about them, they’re all on the payroll.”
“Me too?”
“Unless you’re fired.”
We both laughed, but his steely gaze showed he meant it. He handed me a room key for a penthouse suite, and I picked at five courses of dinner, exchanging furtive glances with my beady-eyed host, bracing myself for my moment in the boardroom. He and I were the only ones who joined the many jubilant toasts with Pellegrino instead of the free flowing wine that enlivened the party.

My Turn As Apprentice

The suite was nearly as large as my mom’s boyfriend’s Bel Air mansion, but garishly decorated with faux Roman statuary and mosaics. I showered, douched, and moisturized, retrieved a shimmering silk teddy from the bottom of my purse, and toured the suite, seven interconnected rooms. When I heard the door I retraced my steps to the bedroom and posed for my host. He entered without knocking and summoned me. He kissed me, forced his tongue into my mouth, I yielded. His mouth smelled of Tic-Tac mints. He breathed the air near my neck.
“Excellent hygiene.”
“Got to make a good first impression.”
“Passed the first test, very good. Like the room?”
“I dropped breadcrumbs to find my way around this place.”
“Good move. Show me more.”
I crawled across the bed, slid to the floor, and knelt at his feet.
“May I?”
“Very good, taking initiative, but seeking permission.”
I unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly, and nuzzled my nose into his groin. His cock twitched to life, and I kissed it until it protruded through his silk boxers, circumcised, of average length and girth. No one had invented cock Tic-Tacs, and while he wasn’t quite fat, he was close, so he was salty and dank from a long night at the dinner table.
“Let me help you get comfortable, don’t want to spoil your Brioni.”
“Another good call, you know your brands.”
“Branding is the key to success.”
“And mine is the finest brand in the land.”
“Synonymous with success.”
“I like the way you think.”
I untied his shoes, took off his clothes, and hung his suit and shirt on a butler’s chair. He was perfectly relaxed, as though having a beautiful and nearly naked girl as his valet was routine. He sat on the bed, I knelt between his legs, and tea bagged his balls, then cupped them while I blew him. His pubes were abundant and flecked with grey, unlike the oddly colored comb-over on top of his head. His cock was hooded, like a poisonous mushroom, and canted to the side, like a mushroom drawn by a child, or a cartoonist.
“Delicious, want to taste my lips?”
“Thanks for asking, but that’s for ladies only.”
I sucked him until his breath heaved and his groans became hoarse.
“Not yet, have to-“
“Fuck me, daddy.”
I pushed my thong to the side, climbed onto his lap, and forced my pussy over his cock, then rode him cowgirl, shrieking pleasure like a banshee, he looked startled by my audacity, but his eyes revealed appreciation of my performance. He sat almost still, his belly and man boobs, all ruddy and freckled, shivering from my exertions, until I feigned exhaustion and kissed his cheek.
“You’ve worn me out, let’s get into bed.
I curled on my side and patted the bed behind my butt.
“Does that work for you?”
“Only one way to find out.”
We spooned and he fondled my breasts and stroked my clit, I cooed pleasured.
“Tell me, ah-“
He forgot my name, and I almost forgot my latest alias.
“Alexia.”
“Tell me, am I the beast that the press portrays?”
“I think that successful people need public personas that match their ambitions.”
The man behind the caricature he created on his show possessed great charm and insight. Much like a successful escort’s GFE, his act was critical to his success, but he still possessed the ability to pull back the mask. He was human, likeable, and the coexistence of his natural charm with the media-made mask made for a potent, even dangerous combination. But from the vantage point of his bed, it became clear that his undeniable success was not entirely based on bullying and exploitation.
“You’re an actor, and the press distorts the facts so they fit your act.”
“You’re exactly right.”
“I take that as high praise coming from you.”
“It is.”
He kissed my ear and rolled me to my stomach.
“My favorite position.”
“Mine too.”
He barreled away at my backside, his flabby thighs pounded on mine, his breath ragged in my ear, and he orgasmed with a roar that made my ears ring. His chest heaved, his forehead was beaded with sweat.
“Can I get you a cool towel?”
“That would be great.”
I mopped his seed from my labia and resisted the temptation to recycle that towel for him. I lay the towel over his brow and he stared at the ceiling.
“You know, you look just like her.”
I knew he meant his daughter, but I repressed my revulsion.
“Thank you, I take that as a great compliment.”
“Right answer, and good news, you passed the test.”
He got up, peed, and dressed himself.
“The suite is yours for the weekend.”
“Thanks, but I have to leave tomorrow.”
“So soon? I’m playing in a celebrity golf tournament up in Tahoe, we could-”
“Got to get back to my nanny job.”
“I’m going to need a nanny pretty soon.”
“In LA?”
“I’ll keep you in mind.”
He blew me a kiss as he left.
The best escort experiences are those that leave you with something of the man besides his money and his load. Maybe I was star struck, but I felt like I’d gotten to know something of this man: that he, like I, lived as a great liar, concealing a human heart behind a fortress of falsity.

Blast from the Past

I wasn’t surprised when JC’s email hit my in box, requesting that I call.
My Las Vegas host was proving himself a greater liar than I ever had been. He’d been recorded bragging that he "can do anything" to women, including "just start kissing them ... I don't even wait" and "grab 'em by the pussy". He claimed he was joking, making locker room talk, but then a platoon of victims told their stories. “All lying,” he tweeted.
I recalled the press of his small hand against my pussy, and realized I was nothing special. Playing grab ass with pretty girls in public was his standard procedure.
“I just wanted to remind you about that NDA, so don’t get any-“
“Funny thing JC, I just looked at it.”
“Then you know it’s perpetual.”
“I also noticed that it’s under Nevada law, and here I am in Switzerland. Good luck with enforcing that here.”
“That’s why I’m asking for a new NDA, under Swiss Law. My Geneva office has already prepared it.”
“What else, JC?”
“A numbered account with 50,000 Euros. You get the number when you deliver your signature.”
“Email it to me, let me think about it, talk to my lawyer.”
“Please, if he finds out-“
“He’ll deny it, just like all the others.”
“No, that you’re transsexual, he’ll be furious, fire me.”
“Yeah, like you fired me as a pro bono client when I got outed. Revenge is a dish best served cold.”
I hung up before he could beg more.

Counsel

I sent both NDAs to my California lawyer Phil Lake, who couldn’t resist teasing me.
“Jason Crockett. Alexandra, of all of your revelations, that’s the most sordid.”
“There’s worse, he pimped me to one of his clients, guess who?”
“Right, that’s much worse.”
“Can I expiate my sins by outing him as a whore monger and tranny chaser?”
“He’ll lie, and could sue you too.”
“I’m in Switzerland, never coming back, especially if he’s elected.”
“If he’s elected, he’s the most powerful man in the world. Want to take your chances with that?”
“I could alter the course of history, prevent evil from ascending.”
“Or not, and be screwed for your trouble. Volunteers are losers.”
“Should I sign it?”
“Mark it up to reflect 150,000 euros. That’s more like the going rate.”
I didn’t need the money, but I promised myself I would donate it to trans-friendly charities to help ameliorate the harms that the candidate’s transphobic rhetoric was causing. Phil was right, my story would get lost in the tumult of real and fake news, and in such a world, it was better to stay under the radar.

Readers’ Comments

Comments to The Greatest Liar, Trans Erotica/Fiction With Purpose
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07FSQ3M3M
From Kindle Readers
“The Greatest Liar: Trans Erotica with a Purpose”, by Alexandra Rios is simply an amazing novel that reads like a memoir. Interspersed with tons of incredibly detailed eroticism, this coming of age tale depicts the transformation of a gender challenged male-born youth spinning and often careening her way into young adulthood as a female. The author demonstrates a wonderful writing talent, unfolding her eloquent story in a masterful manner, incorporating an in-depth knowledge of the gender transition process and the inherent speed bumps that those on this journey often need to negotiate.
In addition, author Rios weaves in a deep knowledge and understanding of our legal system, sex work and sexual assault, terrorism, illegal drugs, big business, scientific research, relationships and a whole lot more. If this sounds like quite a lot, it is, but the author allows it all to unfold in this long and wonderful book. This reviewer found it to be a very entertaining and riveting read.”
“Witty, even erudite, at times. Well-written woman/woman intimate scenes that I was able to put myself into. I also enjoyed the fantasies that the protagonist had during sex — a device to portray her detachment. It’s obvious that the author did their research around everything from paramilitary conflicts in Thailand to the medical resources available for trans students in the early aughts.”
From Literotica.com
To Chapter 1, My Awkward Phase
“Wow. Is there a way to rate this higher than 5 stars?”
To Chapter 2, Exposure, Disclosure
“This is without a doubt one of the best written stories on this site. You’re going to go far Alexandra Rios!”
“I am so glad I caught this story. Well written and extremely erotic. Now, waiting for the continuation. Looking forward to the transition and what it brings.”
From Lushstories.com
To Chapter 2, Exposure, Disclosure
“Any man would be lucky to have a woman like you in his life, Alexandra; you're beautiful - inside and out!!”
“Beautifully done. Excellent delivery of emotions. Great detail and so descriptive. Thanks for sharing. Till they meet again.”
“You captured every gurl’s dream and fears, her maturity outshines her years. A beautifully written descriptive story that leaves so much anticipation for her next adventure.”