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Chapter 1 +++++
I wake up horny. I always wake up horny. If my cock--or my clit, I suppose--weren't locked up in its pink plastic cage, I'd have a raging case of morning wood.
Alas.
I press my hips into the mattress once for the futile sensual pleasure it gives me. I sit on the edge of the mattress. In the mirrored closet doors, I see myself--five feet, six inches, 120 pounds, a mop of brown hair starting to drift down and cover my eyes--in a white satin chemise. Its spaghetti straps accentuate my lightly tanned and skinny arms. The chemise is long enough to cover my cotton panties--barely. These panties are the most comfortable underwear I've ever had. The fine elastic band tugs gently at my hip. The tiny hearts on the soft white fabric contrast with my smooth, softly tanned upper thighs.
My tan, well, it covers my whole body. My whole skinny, smooth body, except for thin strips of white around my hips, chest, and shoulder tops. All from a black string bikini that I literally had to tie onto myself. As I stepped out into the sun in the courtyard of my apartment building, I thought "is it legal for me to wear this?" I thought about whether anyone would see me. There were people all around me; hundreds, probably.
If a man saw me, what would he think? With my whole body waxed smooth and a long blond wig on top of my head, he wouldn't immediately know I was a man. Or used to be, anyway. My little clitty, locked away, wouldn't give me away. My outfit would give him one thought, whether he figured out what I was or not: "What a slut."
And he'd be right.
I must have been feeling particularly femme. Female empowerment or something? Can you get that from swallowing so much cum? I'd had an amazing night before. It was my first time locked in my cage. I blew two guys at the club. One of the guys was even someone I knew in high school. He had no idea it was a former acquaintance--a friend, even, someone he'd only known as a boy--working so hard to make his dick feel good. To give him the best blowjob he'd ever had. To make him cum.
He stayed and watched while the other guy pounded my face. Guy #2 must have been pretty horny because he didn't last long. Three or four minutes later he was shooting ropes of cum in my mouth and down my throat. Guy #2 took awhile to recover from his huge orgasm--it was like he was out of his head for a couple of minutes. I just watched him from my knees.
"See ya later, slut," said my old pal, Troy Macalester, as his friend slouched back to the bar.
When I woke up today, I myself had not gotten off in six days. How many guys had I pleasured in that time? On Tuesday, I'd been fucked by a slightly chubby, married, straight guy at my apartment. I had sucked off a young guy, maybe 20 or 21, twice back to back. Jesus Christ, the stamina! I didn't even stop sucking--I just slowed down for a minute. Then he was back to hard.
So counting Saturday night, I had taken in five loads of steaming hot cum from strangers. Five for them, none for me. And I loved it.
And I craved more.
So I decided to get a tan. The backside of the bikini covered about half of my ass. I thought about the thin shoulder strap. Anyone who saw it would know exactly how I earned that thin white line. Do I want to get caught?
Maybe I do.
I broke my morning mirror reverie. I have work to do. Let's tighten up this tight little body. First step? Workout clothes. I did NOT spend all of my disposable income on totally overpriced women's clothing not to wear it. Plus this outfit is so cute: lycra shorts that have the nerve to call themselves "shorts," they're so short--the bottom hem was basically at the level of my tiny caged cock. A black sports bra to match, exposing my midriff so I could, in theory, show all the boys my tight stomach, and make them dream of covering it in cum.
My workout was designed to feminize my body. Tons of work on the butt. Some toning for the legs. Nothing on top--I want to keep my arms thin. When I wear breast forms, my chest becomes the highlight of my whole body.
Real breasts. Would I get dare to get them one day? Could this whole thing get that out of hand? Like it wasn't out of hand already.
After my squats, leg lifts, and plank poses, I stretched. This is where the magic happens, I thought. I straddle-stretched my legs wide to the side. When I started just a few weeks ago, my legs could not straighten, and I could probably open my legs halfway. Now, not only were they straight, they were nearly in a line to each other. I'll literally be able to do the splits soon.
I leaned my head down. If I wanted to, I could probably suck my own dick now. My nose brushed against the lycra. Oh my god... I totally could. For most sissies, or faggots--or whatever the fuck I am--that would be the dream. Suck cock AND get yourself off, all while dressed as a total fairy.
But that is not what I want. I only want to create pleasure for men. Other men.
Real men.
I want to bend myself in half for them. Spread my legs and give them the deepest, tightest ass. When they push harder, further, I want to be able to take it, sighing in the pain and pleasure of having an eight-inch cock up your ass, your legs spread wide open above your head.
I bought myself a token to remind myself that this is the right position for me: a tiny, gold anklet. It's a chain so light that you can hardly believe it's metal. Whenever it dangles as a man pumps his cock into me, or when I feel his fist grip it around my smooth, skinny, tan ankle, I'm reminded: you chose this. This is where you want to be.
All this effort, just to get men off. I've never worked harder at anything in my life. If I worked this hard at my job, I would be rich. I'd be the boss.
Instead I'm on my back.
Why do I want to get men off? I don't know. All I know is that the bigger their orgasm, the happier I am. The longer they fuck me, the more sweat they drip from their brow while they plunge their cocks into me, the deeper their groans as they press inside my ass, the happier I become. I want to fold myself for them like an intricate piece of origami. I want to give them ever-better oral sex. However they want to fuck me, I have to be able to do it for them.
And then I want to make them cum.
Why?
I have no idea.
I had a girlfriend. She was fucking hot. We broke up a month ago. It was mutual. Man, did we have some fun. I'm 24, and she's 28, and she had a lot more experience. She had crazy ideas. I'd tie her up. She'd tie me up. I'd fuck her up the ass. She'd...... well, you know.
I got to know myself a lot better while we were together. We were together, what, two months? It was my idea to wear her panties. My idea to put on eyeliner and lip gloss. But it was her idea to bring a man over to see me wearing all that stuff: panties, and a bra, and makeup.
She'd asked me if I'd ever sucked cock. I lied and said no. Ninth grade doesn't count. Everyone sucks cock back back then. Right? I was sitting on the floor at her feet when her friend arrived. He was jacked--six feet, maybe six one, and 200 lbs. Reddish brown hair, cut short. Handsome, but in a rugged way. Super fit, but not in the way that gym bunnies are, more in the way that people who work with their bodies every day are. Maybe he was a carpenter or a fireman.
He dwarfed me and my 5' 6" self.
He gazed at me as I rested on the floor. "So this is your friend? She's pretty." I blushed--that was the first time anyone had ever used a female pronoun for me.
"Stand up." I did. "Turn around." I did a twist. "Come here." I stood in front of him. He squeezed my arms in his thick muscular hands. "Now. Are you going to make me happy?"
I nodded out of both confidence and fear. "Well, get started." My heart began to race. I knew what he wanted, but didn't know if I had the bravery to drop to my knees and give it to him.
I guess I paused long enough for him to put his hands on my shoulders. He didn't have to push. I dropped to my knees.
"Look up," he said. I stared up at him. "Always look me in the eye."
So I began to stare up at his masculine face. I reached for his belt, blindly. The leather felt gritty, so worn-in he must have worn it for ten years. I gently unhinged it, unbuttoned his jeans, and slid down his pants. His somewhat-swollen member popped free. No underwear--of course he free-balled. The smell of his masculinity wafted into my face. His musk--his ass, his piss, his ball sweat--it was more masculine than I had ever been or ever could be in my lifetime.
My dick throbbed in my panties.
"Do you need instructions?" His dick was only semi-hard, but it was already thicker than a sausage.
I worried I wouldn't be able to fit it.
"Give it a kiss," my girlfriend commanded.
I leaned forward. I kissed the head.
That was the first time in my adult life that I had kissed a man's dick. It would not be the last.
I pulled back and saw a thread of precum connecting my lips to his member. "I said look up." I corrected my mistake and moved in for another kiss, this time a French one. I tasted the underside of his cock--sweaty, firm, smooth--and his precum--salty, nutty. I stared into his eyes as I began to make love to his cock with my tongue. "Jesus... she's a quick learner."
Braver now, I leaned in and took as much as I could, all while sustaining eye contact. You think that's easy? Try it. Get on your knees and suck a huge cock, all while staring up as high as you possibly can.
(You can tell the slutty ones by how good they are at that. I'm both embarrassed and proud to tell you that I'm great at it... especially after all this practice.)
"Oh, fuck yeah," he managed. I couldn't reply with words, so I moaned around his dick. I forgot how good that feels for a man. His dick swelled to remind me.
How much more could this dick swell, anyway? Jesus. It was the most massive member I'd ever seen up close. Far bigger than the little teenage ones I'd sucked during puberty. Much bigger than my little 5" thing. I'd been a fraud of a man. This thing was eight inches, or more and as fat as a rolling pin.
How had my girlfriend survived with my little dick to service her? Well, I learned later on, way down the road of my feminization, that she hadn't. She'd been fucking this guy--the guy I was sucking. And she'd been fucking my friend Tom. AND she'd been fucking this guy who lived down the hall.
So THAT'S why that guy gives me that creep-ass smile whenever we pass, the one I now realize means, "I'm fucking your girlfriend."
This stud, once fully expanded, barely fit inside my mouth. As he fucked my face roughly, I grazed him with my front teeth--my second mistake. He slapped down on my cheek, hard. "Teeth!" he yelled. He was training me the same way you would a dog.
That made sense. I was his bitch.
I nodded as much as I could muster, a tear in my eye from the slap and the pain in my jaw of fitting him inside.
"Did you get that on camera?" he asked my girlfriend. I looked over, cock inside my mouth, to see her holding her phone.
"Oh yeah."
She was shooting video. Of my face. While I was sucking cock. In a bra and panties. Wearing makeup. And sucking a huge cock with passion.
I was embarrassed and angry, but the anger faded quickly. She captured me doing what I wanted to do.
Because, face it: I am a cocksucker. A cocksucker caught on tape, to live on as long as digital content survives. My great-great-grandchildren might witness the moment I surrendered to cock. Though at this point, I don't think I'll ever have to worry about having kids.
"Pass it to me. I wanna get a closeup," he told her. He took the phone and held it above my head. I smiled with my eyes as I thrust myself ever deeper onto his cock. This particular high-rez shot of my face would be seen a hundred times by me, at least, and twenty thousand other horndog men, at least according to the view count on xHamster. I just checked.
When he got ready to cum, the speed of his thrusts went up. I worked my head back and forth, but he was in control. I used my tongue, rolling it over the head, trying to make my mouth the most responsive pussy he's fucked. As I tongued the underside of the glans, he hit his mark. "Oh, I'm gonna fucking cum..."
His face made a pained expression of pleasure. He grasped the sides of my head and started fucking harder, deeper. "Look up, you fucking slut." We locked eyes just as he shot his load into my mouth. He kept fucking, shooting hot, salty, sweet, nutty cum throughout my entire mouth. After two or three thrusts, he pulled out and laid it on my face. His throbbing red cock covered my whole face. He took aim at my eyes, my nose. He must have had a three-day load in there. Or else just be a bigger, more masculine man than I have ever known. Whatever the case, he laid a thick load on my face, one that I will never forget.
The video of that moment... it's intense. Once he gets his wits about him--after shooting cum for 20 seconds--he exhales. Deeply. He looks down at me. I'm looking up, smiling. "Show me that cum in your mouth," he demands. I open up--there it is. "Swallow it."
I would never do anything else with it. Obediently, I close my mouth, and, still staring up at him, swallow his cum.
He laughs, gently. "Wow, baby. You've got a real live one on your hands."
Yes, he had woken up the slut inside me. I wondered what it would take me to stop. Or even slow down a little. Get a girlfriend. Set a wedding date.
But I didn't want that. I just wanted more men inside me.
I didn't know that tonight I'd be taking cock from a former friend of mine.
But that's for another chapter.
+++++
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