Two Mistakes a TG story

Two Mistakes By Pink Pantyboy

Note: The story is intended for adult readers only. The story line contains for an adult audience 18+, it is an intense odyssey into consensual sexual slavery, crossdressing, forced feminization, graphic sexual scenes that include bondage and discipline. It also includes rough, intense male/female, male/male oral, anal intercourse with domination, humiliation, and punishment part of the main theme. Underage reading of this material is strictly forbidden by the author, and by legal statutes.

CHAPTER ONE:

It's funny how one stupid thing, actually two stupid things can really change your life from the one you thought you were going to have, to one you never imagined you'd have. The first stupid thing I did was steal a pair of girl's panties from a local department store. I'd always been fascinated by girl's underwear and erotic lingerie even though as yet, I didn't know that word. I'm not queer, or anything like that, but I do get a funny feeling when I looked at them. I'd lay in bed at night, touching myself and thinking how it would feel to wear girl's panties, or see myself in the mirror wearing them, just for fun, of course. I'd never admit to anyone I'd like to do that, even though I did know a guy at school that wore them. Just the thought of the guys I knew calling me a queer or a faggot because I have a thing about girl's underwear made me shiver and feel a little ashamed. But in a way, even that felt good. I mean... well, don't normal straight; heterosexual guys have a thing about a pair of sexy panties? That didn't make them queer, did it? At least I didn't think so.

The trouble was, I was horny, well actually, I'd been horny all the way through high school, and so far, I hadn't gotten laid. I'm not a jock, and didn't go in for all that energetic stuff like football, basketball, and such where you have to jump and run around a lot, which is exactly what all the girls seemed to go for. In addition, from listening to the guys in the locker room, I knew they were getting pussy. It's not that I'm ugly or anything, and I think I'm a reasonably good looking, 5'-7", one hundred and fifty-five pounds, longish light brown hair, green eyes and a bit on the slim side. One girl I tried to date did say I looked cute, but she giggled for some reason when she said it so I didn't know if I should take her seriously. Either way, she wouldn't go out with me. The guys that have 'done it' with a girl all talked about certain girls that seem to walk around with a big sign around their necks that said 'Fuck Me!', but I've never found one, and boy oh boy did I look.

It all started one day when I was cruising through the local department store. Now nineteen, out of school, unemployed, un-laid and bored. One of the places I like to wander through was the lingerie department, just to see the sexy things girl's like to wear. I didn't have much money, so when I saw the price of the of one particular pair of panties, I knew I didn't have enough to buy them, even though they were on the marked down table with a bunch of other panties. I only knew I wanted them, so I had to figure out a way to steal them without getting caught. I wandered about the store for a while, every so often coming back to the table, giving them a sideways look as I slowly walked by. I didn't want anyone realizing that I was looking at them, especially not the sales girls tidying the racks.

A handsome older guy looking through the shirt rack did give me a funny look and smiled slightly, but I put that down to a normal reaction from people when they see a young guy hanging around the girl's underwear department too long. I quickly turned into the gap between the racks of men's pants, as I didn't want him thinking I was some sort of pervert. Boys aren't supposed to be fixated on girl's panties except maybe if they are on a girl. The only thing a guy wanted to do then is get her panties off as quick as possible. I kept looking at them as I strolled by, trying to imagine what a girl would look like wearing them, or dressed in panties, bra, stocking and garter belt. Except in a magazine, I'd never seen a girl in her underwear let alone naked, so I didn't have a clue what a girls pussy looked like, or her boobies either for that matter.

The panties I wanted were bright pink, in what was called 'boy's leg' or 'boys cut panties'. I'm not sure why they are called that, but 'boys cut panties' had such an erotic sound to it, and I felt my cock hardening in my pants as I thought about it. The name made is sound as if guys should be walking around in them instead of girls. Besides being bright pink in color, they semi transparent with delicate white lace around the leg and waist, and I wondered what a girl's pussy would look while she was wearing them. I had to stop thinking about that, as my hard on was getting obvious and just concentrate on ways to get the panties. As I supposedly looked through the rack for pants I thought about how to steal them without getting caught, rejecting one plan after the other before coming up with a workable one. The panty table was located in the wide aisle between the men's and woman's clothing section, with women's underwear and such on one side, and men's pants and things on the other, so I wandered back between the rows of clothing and made as if I was searching for a pair of jeans.

I found one pair of about my size, and taking them off the rack I wandered on down to the end and made like I was having difficulty looking for another pair just in case a hidden security camera was watching. My heart was pounding so loud, I though you could hear it three blocks away as I laid the first pair of pants over the table, making sure they covered the panties I wanted. Trembling like a leaf, I then went back to 'searching' for another pair of jeans, ready to walk away if someone so much as looked in my direction. Sorted through the rack near the table, I found another pair near my size, and putting them over my arm, I went back to the table to retrieve the other pair as coolly as I could. This was the point of no return, and after a quick look around the store, I casually grabbed the first pair of jeans off the table with the panties underneath and put them over my arm with the second pair. Still shaking and expecting to hear alarms go off any second, or beefy looking security men heading toward me, I casually walk back down the rack of pants as if searching for another pair. Nothing happened, no alarms, no one looking at me with an accusing eye, and no store security running toward me. Even so, I still felt very nervous, but a little smug at how successful my little plan was, and wandered through the rack again, distancing myself from the scene of my crime. Safely hidden between the racks of clothing, it wasn't hard to transfer the panties to my pocket, but I was surprised to find that I'd grabbed three pairs of panties instead of just the one I wanted. I couldn't very well put the others back without someone, or a hidden security camera seeing me, so I just stuffed them all into my pocket.

That done and making sure none of them were hanging out; I strolled over to the fitting room to 'try' on the pants I'd selected. Once inside, I checked the panties for security tags before stripping off my pants and underwear. A shiver of pure delight ran over my body as I looked at them, discovering that one panty were in fact a pair of black lace crotchless panties. That made my heat race so hard my hands were shaking, and I quickly put all three pairs on, the crotchless ones first, then the frilly white lacy ones, and lastly the bright pink ones. I couldn't believe the feeling it gave me to wear them, and for a moment all I wanted to do is jack off right there and then. I managed to calm myself down, and reluctantly put my boy's underwear on over them. I decided it was better if I did, just in case it was possible for some sharp-eyed sales clerk, or security dork to see an outline of the panties under my pants or something. Slipping my pants back on, I left, handing the jeans to the hard faced lady guardian of the changing room with a 'thank you' and a smile. I wandered around the store after that, just to see if anyone was watching me. Other than the older guy, I'd seen before at the sales counter, no one was, and I casually wandered out the store, my heart racing with the expectation as I passed through the detectors, but nothing happened, no alarms, and no security running after me, no beefy hand on my shoulder. I breathed a deep sigh of relief as I took a long cooling drink from the fountain, feeling my heart slow down to a somewhat normal pace. I'd actually done it, and gotten away with it

That brought up images of what would happen if they had caught me, like making me strip so they could see the panties I'd stolen. I felt myself go bright red in shame, thinking how humiliating and degrading that would be. No doubt, my Dad would spank me hard if that happened, even if I was 19. That made me even harder, thinking of him, or my Mother spanking me while wearing girl's panties. I desperately wanted to play with myself to relieve my cock, but I knew I'd have to wait until later, as being Saturday afternoon, I was supposed to meet my friend, Jerry and go to the movies with him.

From what I'd heard, it was a good one, and I really wanted to see this movie called the story of 'O'. It had been around before, but I was too young to get in then, but I could this time. I waited outside, one eye on the movie start time, the other on the gathering rain clouds. It was just my luck that it started raining, and I didn't have my raincoat with me. The start time arrived, and my friend still didn't show so in the end, I went in, finding the movie house dark and secluded. Looking around in the gloom, I saw there weren't many people here, and picking an empty row on the side where it was darkest, I slid into a seat in the center and scrunched down. Here I thought no one could see me if I started squeezing my cock through my pants, as I expected to do from what I'd heard, panties forgotten for the moment. The movie started, and I became engrossed in the movie so much so that for a moment I didn't take notice of the guy with the raincoat over his arm coming into my row. First, he started to sit down a few seats from me behind a tall guy, then changed his mind and moved to sit in the seat next to me, probably because he could see the screen better.

'Fuck!" I thought. Now I couldn't squeeze my cock as I'd planned, and felt cheated somehow. Why the hell did he have to pick the seat next to mine? Shit! The whole row was empty, but maybe he hadn't seen me scrunched down in the seat in the darkness.

The movie house had filled up a lot since I came in, I just hadn't noticed before, so maybe he couldn't find a seat or something. The man folded his raincoat and placed it over his lap, but at the time, I didn't think much of it. It became obvious a little later. I put my attention back on the movie, seeing 'O' and another woman naked for the first time in my life. I instantly got hard, seeing her get butt fucked by some nasty guy with a big cock. I couldn't help myself and soon had my hand inside my pants, semi jacking myself off slowly so the man next to me wouldn't see. It was hard, my cock and jacking off inside my pants, until I noticed that the man had pulled his raincoat up, and I could see his hand moving up and down under it. Every so often he'd take a small flat silver box out of his pocket and point it at the screen, and realized he was taking digital pictures of the screen and jacking off at the same time.

'Fuck!' I thought. The lucky guy had his cock out and jacking himself off under the raincoat and had nasty pictures to take home with him.

I wish I'd listened to my Mother and taken my raincoat with me, but being the obnoxious teenager, I was, of course I blew her off and went out without it. I stopped pretending I wasn't playing with myself and openly squeezed my cock outside my pants. God, I was so horny and just wanted to open my fly and jack off as hard as I could right then and there, seeing what was happening 'O' up on the screen. The man next to me must have seen what I was doing, and coughing slightly to get my attention, he looked around to make sure no one was looking as he lifted the bottom of his raincoat and laid it over my lap. For a moment, I didn't know what to do, tell him to fuck off, throw the coat off, leave it there or get up and move.

That's when I made my second mistake. A naked 'O' getting spanked changed my mind, and I left it there, but I didn't have the nerve to do what he was doing. I was so horny I couldn't sit still, and I kept wriggling around in my seat, panting with excitement. Then I felt his hand touch my thigh and begin stroking. I shivered, at first repelled he was touching me, wanting to jump up and run away, or push his hand away, then my cock jump as he squeezed my thigh. I gave him a sideways look, but he seemed intent on the screen and ignored me, except for his hand. It crept up to the top of my thigh, squeezing firmly and with a gentle pressure made me open my legs. After that, it didn't take long before his hand was on my crotch, squeezing my hard cock through my pants. I should have stopped him right there, but I didn't. It felt so good having someone else playing with my cock, I didn't want it to stop. He continued squeezing and rubbing my cock, and if anything making me harder. He stopped, and glancing down, I saw his hand and fingers searching for the zipper to my pants, and looking around I pulled the raincoat up higher. Fuck! He was going to get my cock out and play with it, I thought, feeling a shiver run through me. The thought was so erotic I couldn't stop him.

The zipper grated down, sounding loud enough that the guy sitting in front of me must have heard it, but of course, he didn't. It was just my hyperactive senses that made it seem so loud. His hand started to slip in the opening, and I realized my second stupid mistake. This one was a really, really stupid, dumb fuck mistake. I'd forgotten that I was wearing the panties I'd stolen. I felt myself go bright red, thankfully hidden in the darkness, desperately wondering what I should do. It was way too late to run, and in panic, I put my hand on top of his under the raincoat, but his fingers were already inside my fly, stroking my hard cock. Fuck! That felt so good that I was powerless to stop him putting his hand all the way inside. It didn't take him long to discover the panties, feeling his fingers tracing the lace around the leg under my 'Y' fronts. He starting to stroke my cock again and that felt so good with the panties wrapped around it. Reaching down, I undid my belt and top button so his hand was free to move inside my pants. He didn't hesitate at the invitation, and quickly found the waistband and slipped his hand under it. I shivered as his cold fingers touched my hot skin and sucked my stomach in as if he'd shocked me. His exploring fingers found the second and third pair of panties, and I blushed in the dark, thinking about what he was thinking about that. He must have liked the last pair. The crotchless ones, as he took time to finger the outline of the opening around my cock. That felt good as well, and I could imagine he seeing me dressed in them. Like a cheap slut, I lifted the waistband of the panties, almost inviting him to do whatever he wanted, and he started slowly jacking me off. He did that for several minutes before reaching over, taking my hand, pulling it under the raincoat, and placing it around his huge cock. I almost gasped in surprise at how big it was compared to mine.

The guys at school use to tease me about having a small cock, and when I was younger, I'd cried a few times when they did. That only made them do it even more, calling me a sissy and a queer for having such a small cock. Now I understood why. It was small, and his hand completely engulfed it. Mine on the other hand had difficulty wrapping my fingers around his shaft or so it seemed, and I wondered what it looked like. He must have been at least eight inches long, and sort of fat, with a foreskin like mine and a small cock head. Feeling embarrassed and a little ashamed, we sat there mutually jacking each other off. I desperately wanted to come, but each time I came close, he somehow knew, stopped, and squeeze my cock hard. I'd gasp, not so much from the pain, but how it made me stop coming, but no matter how much I jacked his cock, he didn't cum. This must have gone on for about a quarter of an hour, but it felt a lot longer to me, when he leaned over and whispered in my ear.

"Let's go to the toilet." He stopped playing with my cock and tucked it back inside my panties, quickly putting his away and zipped himself up.

I wasn't sure what to do, except that I wanted to cum so bad I couldn't think straight. I guess I really didn't think about it, supposing he just wanted to jack me off and see me cum, so when he stood up, I quickly did my pants up and followed him. To my surprise, he didn't head for the toilet out front, but headed toward an exit sign near the screen. I felt as if I was under a spotlight as I walked behind him, thinking that everyone in the theater could see us and know where we were going, and what we were going to do. A hot flush spread over my face and neck, but I did wonder where he was going. We passed through a curtain and the exit door into a dimly lit passageway, and I started getting nervous until I saw the toilet sign. This was one of those men and women's toilets there you went in and locked the door behind you, which he did once we were inside. It did have a urinal and a large handicapped toilet, and he guided me inside and closed the door. I started shaking, not knowing what to expect. I looked up at him, seeing a handsome older guy in a smart looking suit, but I couldn't look up at his face, or meet his eyes. He hung his raincoat on the back of the door and turned toward me. The toilet was reasonably clean with the usual graffiti on the partition and walls, inviting the occupant to call this number for the best blowjob, or fuck, and a crude drawing of girl's with their legs spread. I could smell the pee and chlorine mixed with other things, and if anything, that only turned me on more. It was so disgustingly erotic that I felt nervous, excitement, fear, anticipation, shame and humiliation all mixed up together to the point where I started to shiver.

"Show me your pretty panties boy." He said softly, as he set down on the toilet. I gulped, not sure what he wanted me to do.

"I... I..." I couldn't get the words out, any words, but then again, I didn't know what I wanted to say.

Smiling slightly, he reached over and gently pulled me toward him and unbuckled my belt. I just stood there, unable to move or stop him. He undid my pants and let them fall around my ankles, immediately caressing my shaking thighs as if to calm me, which was impossible at that moment, and slowly worked upward until he was caressing my hard cock, squeezing it through my underwear and panties.

"Ummm very nice. Let's get these boys underpants off and see your pretty panties." He murmured, lifting my legs, so he could take off my pants and boys underpants off. "Take off your jacket and unbutton your shirt." I sucked my breath in hearing that, feeling my face get hot.

Hesitantly, I shrugged off my jacket, and he took it and laid it over the back of the toilet, turning back as I slowly unbuttoned my shirt. Without a word, he took my arms, unbuttoned the shirt cuffs, and pushed it off my shoulders. I didn't understand until he took my shirt off and put it on top of the toilet. It was almost as if I didn't have a choice as he reached down and gently pulled my tee shirt up and over my head. Instinctively, I lifted my arm, shivering even harder as the cold air hit my hot skin. Now I was almost naked, and I thought that was all until he leaned down again and took my shoes and socks off. I felt the cold concrete under my feet, and for some reason, let out a soft sob.

"Umm, you look so nice dressed in those panties sissy boy." He said softly. "Put your hands on top of your head and close your eyes."

It felt as if he'd hit me in the stomach when he called my sissy boy, and I suck air into my lung, feeling my cock jump and get hard again. I'd heard other guys and my friend say that about someone, or call an obvious sissy fairy that name, but never to me. I felt like crying in shame, and putting my hands on top of my head, I closed my eyes, not sure what he was going to do. I hear several clicks, and opening them saw he was taking pictures of me like that. I gasped, and did start to cry. Now he had pictures of me dressed in girl's panties. I suddenly thought of the store security, and somehow they'd followed me and got me undressed, so they could take pictures as evidence. He leaned forward and started squeezing my cock, which was still hard, despite feeling ashamed. It felt so degrading standing there dressed in girl's panties with a man playing with my cock, but if anything that only made me harder. One by one, he peeled the panties down, taking pictures as he did, until I was standing there with two pairs around my thighs, and he was taking pictures of me dressed in the black nylon crotchless panties with my hard cock sticking through the opening. I shuddered as he nursed my little cock and caressed my balls, slipping one hand behind me, and stroking my back and bottom.

"Spread your legs sissy boy." He ordered.

"I'm not... really... I'm not a..." I started to say.

"Of course you are." He said, filling in the blanks of what I couldn't say. "Boys don't wear girl's panties like these, do they? Only prancing, sissy queer boys like you do things like that." I moaned, feeling my little cock stiffened.

"Ooooo no... please, don't say that." I pleaded.

"Why not? It's true, isn't it?" He stroked my cock faster, and I couldn't help myself.

"Yes." I groaned, almost seeing myself as he must see me, feeling my face burning with shame.

"That's better. You shouldn't lie. You get spanked for lying to me." Saying that, he started spanking my bottom. Not hard at first, just light pats. I started panting, unable to stop myself, my hips jerking back and forth as he jacked me off. The harder he spanked me, the hotter I got. Every so often he would stop and squeeze my cock and balls hard, stopping me climaxing as I cried in frustration and humiliation.

"Oh god! Spank me harder." I heard myself say, wanting to be punished. He slapped my bottom harder.

"Tell me what you are!" He snapped, landing a hard slap across my cheeks.

"I'm a dirty little panty wearing sissy queerboy." I chocked out. The slaps didn't even seem to hurt now, just a hotness spreading up my back and down my thighs.

"Yes, you are, and what do dirty little sissy queers do?"

"Wear girl panties and prance around like dirty little faggots." I cried, gasping for breath, desperate to say it.

"And what else do sissy queerboy faggot, do?" I knew what he wanted me to say, and knew what would happen if I did. I didn't want to say the words, frantically telling myself not to, feeling tears of shame running down my face, knowing I couldn't stop myself.

"They suck men's cocks." I sobbed at last. His hand slapped my bottom hard, but I didn't care. I should be punished. Punished for stealing the panties, punished for wearing them, punished for letting him play with my cock, and punished for saying what I did.

"That's right, dirty little panty wearing sissy queerboy faggots suck men's cock, and you are going to get on your knees and suck mine, NOW!" He ordered, and saying that he put his hand on my shoulder and slowly pushed me to the floor on my knees. I sobbed and cried, looking up at him as he unzipped his pants and took his huge cock out.

"Please sir. Don't make me put it in my mouth. I'm not..." He gently slapped me across the face, first with his hand, then with his hard cock as he pulled me between his open legs.

I felt humiliated and dirty, disgusted at what he wanted me to do. I wanted to say that I wasn't a sissy fag. I didn't... I'd never sucked a cock. Only a dirty little sissy perverts did that, but I had this overwhelming feeling that I was going to suck his cock, no matter how much I fought against it. Next he rubbed his cock over my lips leaving a trail of pre-cum behind it.

"I said to suck it, you nasty little faggot bitch!" Grabbing my hair, he pushed the head against my lips. I could smell it, feel it, all warm, silky skin pressing against my lips, wanting to put my tongue out and lick it, feel it slipping between my wet lips into my mouth.

"Please." I begged. "Don't make me suck..." Even as I tried to tell him I wasn't a cock sucking little fag, or beg him not to force me to do it, he pushed the head forcibly between my lips and into my mouth before I could finish speaking. The smooth, silky head slipped between my lips and into my mouth, filling it, monstrous and invading, forcing my mouth open wide, tasting of musk, salt, and maleness, overwhelming my senses. I squealed and tried to pull my head back, but he held it there. How many times I'd dreamed about doing this laying in bed and jacking off, and now I was. It felt ever more shameful than I ever imagined being forced to do it like this.

"Play with your pathetic little cock, sissy bitch. It will make it easier for a queer like you to cum." Sobbing, I did what he told me, finding I was still as hard as a rock. I started jacking myself off as he worked his cock head in and out of my mouth.

"That's a good little faggot, now jack yourself off, and kiss my cock with those pretty pouty lips." He said, pulling his cock out of me mouth. Crying in humiliation I did what he said, hearing the camera click. This couldn't be worse. He had pictures of me kissing and sucking his huge cock like a dirty little cock sucking faggot.

"Oh yes, very nice. Now lick my cock all over. I want your mouth filled with the taste of my cock." It was, musky, salty, and so disgusting that I sobbed louder.

"Oh I love hearing you cry, sissy. Now suck the head of my cock. I need to put a load of cum in that sweet girlyboy mouth of yours, but you are not to swallow." He ordered. "I know you want to, like any good sissy cunt, but I want to see it and take a photograph of you with your mouth full of cum." I could only sob in shame.

He slapped me on the back of the head, and like a good little queer, I started sucking and licking his cock, jacking myself off even faster. I couldn't believe how disgustingly erotic it felt to be verbally abused and humiliated like this and the feeling of a man's cock fucking my mouth, or so turned on by it. The man started pumping his cock in and out of my mouth in short strokes, holding my head tight between his strong hands as he did. He was fucking my mouth just like I'd heard the guys at school bragging about how they'd done it to a girl.

"Oh yes, now you're a good little cock sucking sissy faggot, aren't you?" I could only nod in response, knowing it was true, right now, I was. "That's good boy, and don't you ever forget it. You were born to suck cock and get your ass fucked like a sissy fag." He said, gasping for breath. At that point his cock got bigger and my mouth filled with his cum. A lot of it, so much so I thought I'd gag. Some of it leaked out of my mouth around his cock and dribbled down my chin. I still hadn't cum at this point, seeming to want to concentrate on him and making him cum more than my own cock. With a long sigh, he pulled his cock out of my mouth and sat back.

"Show me the cum in your mouth sissy cunt!" He ordered. With tears running down my face, sobbing my heart out in shame, I did what he told me, and opened my mouth. Leaning down, he quickly snapped some picture, my face with my mouth open, cum running down my chin, then closer showing the cum. "Put it on your tongue and stick it out so I can get a better shot." I did, and he laughed. "Now swallow it!"

I didn't want to. Wanting nothing more than to spit it out, hating the horrible, disgusting taste of his cum in my mouth. It felt so vile, degrading, and sensing that, he put his hand over my mouth, pinched my nose shut, and pulled my head back. I couldn't stop it. The slick cum flowed to the back of my throat, and I couldn't help but swallowed it all. With that, he let go and stood back.

"Ummm yes, now the little faggot had his first real taste of cum, and swallowed it." He laughed softly, making me feel even worse. "I take it that was the first cock you've sucked."

I nodded, dropping my head and looking at the dirty floor, shivering, the smell of the toilet filling my senses, the cold, hard concrete floor against my legs and knees. The shame felt even deeper knowing I'd let this happen, let him undress me, let him fuck my mouth and did nothing to stop it. What made it ever more shameful was that I'd enjoyed it. I saw him sit back on the toilet, and reaching out he stood me up and pulled me toward him. I didn't know what he was going to do, fuck me, I suppose, but he didn't. He took my little cock all the way into his mouth and started sucking me off. I gasped in shock, understanding how good it felt, and he quickly brought me to a shattering climax. Just as I started shooting my load, he took my cock out of his mouth, and with a few stoked had me shooting into his hand. It felt as if I shot a gallon of cum, shuddering in release. Before I'd finished, he lifted his hand to my mouth.

"Now suck up your own cum, bitchboy." Pulling my mouth open with on hand and forced my head back with the other, he let the cum run into my mouth.

He held his hand there until I'd swallow it all, fresh tears of shame running down my face as he made me lick his hand clean. I stood there feeling the afterglow washing through me, mixing in with a deep feeling of shame as he pulled up each of my panties up and settled them into place, but it was hard to stop crying.

"You know you'd look better wearing a lacy garter belt and stocking, don't you." I shook my head. "Yes you would, and maybe a nice padded girly bra and a dress." I swallowed again.

Even as sated as I was and feeling so ashamed of what I'd just done, the image of me dressed like that made my cock jump. He stood up and handed me my tee shirt and shirt. I started dressing, feeling the aftermath of the encounter, mostly shame and humiliation at what I'd done, or what he'd made me do, I'm not sure which. My feeling of satisfaction made the feeling of shame deeper. I turned to face him, and he held out my pants, but as he gave them to me he pulled out my wallet. I froze. There was no money in it, but that wasn't what he was after. He looked through it a moment, then pulled out my old student I.D. card I still carried to get into the movies cheap.

"Please?" I begged, not sure what I was begging for.

"Oh I just wanted your name and address so I could send you a copy of the pictures."

"Oh god! No..." I moaned, images of my parents opening a package and seeing me like that flashed through my mind.

"You do want a copy, don't you?" He looked puzzled, but laughing at me at the same time. "You do want to see how you looked, don't you? Or show them to your friend and family." He didn't try to hide the veiled threat in there. I simply shook my head. "Oh I see. Well then, you'd better come round to my place next weekend, and I can show them to you."

"Oh god!" I muttered.

"I'll call you during the week and let you know where and when I'll pick you up." He said, tucking my student card into his shirt pocket.

Saying that, he smiled at me and taking his raincoat unlocked the door and left. I just stood there in my pink sissy panties and cried, until I hear the door open again. I stopped crying, and quickly locking the door to the cubicle, frantically getting dressed. Someone came in, took a pee, and after washing their hands, left. I waited a few moments and left myself, going out the exit rather than back into the movie house. I couldn't bear to see the people looking at me when I came back in, or see the knowing expressions on their faces. Suddenly the story of 'O' wasn't as important to me any more, not after what had just happened. I had some idea what he would do to me next, and I frantically thought of way I could get out of it. In the end, I admitted to myself I couldn't while he had the pictures and knew where I lived.

I was trapped and running away didn't occur to me until later, a lot later, then it was too late and I couldn't if I wanted to. I went home, feeling dejected, the horrible taste of him cum in my mouth that I couldn't seem to get rid of. It was stuck at the back of my throat and no matter how much I coughed and spat it was still there. Later, I lay in bed thinking, seeing myself kneeling in those panties sucking on his cock, feeling ashamed again. I'd taken them off when I took a shower, hiding them in the back of a draw, but as I lay there, I had this irresistible urge to put them on again. I fought against it, telling myself what a dirty little cock-sucking queer I was for even thinking about putting them on again. It didn't work and taking a shuddering breath, I got out of bed and retrieved the panties.

I put the crotchless pair on first, then the sissy pink ones and started jacking off. It all came rushing back, the feeling, the smell, the shame, all tumbling over one another. The feeling started to build as I got closer and closer to coming and I let out a soft sob. I thought about what he'd said, about me being dressed in panties, stocking, garter belt, and bra. I wanted that, wanted to be dressed like a sissy fag, used like one, humiliated, and treated like a dirty little sissy faggot bitch. At that point I exploded all over my hand and belly. With another soft sob, I lifted my hand and lick all the cum off and swallowed it, sighing with relief. Covering myself up, I drifted off to sleep on a warm cloud of contentment.

The next morning I woke up feeling disgusted with myself, even more so when I saw myself in the mirror dressed in the bright pink panties with the cum stain on the front. I pulled the panties off, and threw them in the back of a draw and took a long hot shower, scrubbing my skin over and over again. I must have brush my teeth for half an hour, and used up a whole tube of toothpaste. Even so, I could still taste the cum in the back of my throat. I drank hot coffee and even sucked on a lemon, but it just wouldn't go away. I spend the next three days doing macho stuff and hanging with my friend. I even told a few homo jokes and made fun of any swishy looking guys at the Mall just to prove to myself that I wasn't a dirty cock-sucking faggot, or a prancing sissy fairy. The only trouble was I couldn't resist the pull of those panties. I'd lay there at night, telling myself I wasn't going to put them on, tossing and turning in frustration. I just couldn't get rid of the image of my dressed in them. Of course, in the end, I got up, took my PJ's off, and put the panties on in the dark and got back on the bed. I tried not to jack off, telling myself that I just wanted to put them on, and that in the dark they were no different from any other underpants I'd wore.

That didn't last for long before I was fingering the material, indulging myself in the soft sensual feeling. It didn't take long after that before I was squeezing my cock through the panties. I kept telling myself that they didn't turn me on, but in the end, I jacked off, thinking about what had happened and trying to resist the urge to lick up my own cum. Of course I did, feeling humiliated as the slick cum slid over my tongue and down my throat, even going so far as to lick my hand clean. I'd roll over after and tried to tell myself it didn't matter, that doing this didn't make me a faggot. I was just doing this for fun, but I felt tears rolling down my cheeks and cried myself to sleep. The next day I swore to myself I'd never do it again, but I did, over and over again. I'd thought about telling the man to fuck off when, and if he called, thinking up all sorts of nasty names to call him so he'd get the message that I wasn't a panty wearing sissy queer boy for him to use like some cheap ally whore.

Thursday came round and he still hadn't called, and I started biting my lower lips in frustration and prayed he wouldn't call, dreaded what he'd say if he did. By that afternoon, I was a nervous wreck. I couldn't concentrate on anything, couldn't eat, and wandered around the house like a lost dog. Why hadn't he called? He said he would, so why hadn't he? Not that I wanted him to call, I didn't. If I never heard from him again, that was all right with me. I could stop feeling guilty and forget the whole thing. I didn't really want to be dressed in girl's clothes and treated like somebody's dirty little crossdressing, cock sucking sissy fag anyway. I tried to watch TV, but there was nothing that interested me on the boob tube. I didn't want to read, or play a video game, and I loved playing them. Truthfully, I didn't know what I wanted. Then the phone rang, or I should say 'he' rang as all the other calls were for my Mother or Dad. My Mom called up to say someone was on the phone for me, and it felt as if my heart stopped. It had to be him, I thought, god I hope its him! I almost fell down the stair, stopping three feet from the phone, willing myself forward to pick it up, dreading what would happen when I did.

"Yeah, hi." I managed to get out through my constricted throat.

"Told you I'd call." He soft baritone voice whispered in my ear.

"Oh, yeah... um... I'm... I..." I couldn't get anything coherent out.

"Guess you'd like to see the pictures I took." My heart skipped a beat.

"I... I guess..."

"Good. I'll pick you up tonight at 7 pm at the Starbuck Coffee shop in the mini-Mall around the corner from you. Bring a change of clothes and of course your pretty panties." He laughed.

"But..."

"Tell your folks that you are going up to town to go to an early job interview, and that you'll be staying overnight at the 'Y' tonight."

"What! I can't..."

"Do what you are told, sissy bitch!" He snapped. I gulped, trying to suck some air into my lungs.

"Yes, sir." I muttered at last, all the nasty things I was going to say to him vanishing.

"Good. See you at seven, and don't be late, or else."

I wasn't sure what the 'or else' meant, but I could imagine. Suspecting I'd be punished in some way. That sent a wave of erotic pleasure running through me and I shivered. Fuck! Why was I feeling like this? The guy was going to make me dress in girl's underwear, use me, make me suck his big cock again, and then probably fuck me. So why the hell was I so excited that my cock was making the front of my pants stick out. I ran upstairs, ripped the draw open, and pulled out the pink panties before running into the toilet. Stripping off my pants and shorts and knelt in front of the toilet. I'd forgotten or deliberately hadn't flushed, and could spell the piss and it made me harder, and started jacking off with the panties wrapped around my cock. I bit my lower lips to stop myself moaning out loud and quickly brought myself to a climax, sighing in relief as I shot cum inside them. I looked at the sticky mess, wrinkling my nose as the sight. I needed to wash these, but I didn't want to use the washing machine in case my Mother found them before I could get down and put them in the dryer. I couldn't hand wash them, as that meant I had to leave them hanging in the bathroom to dry, so I hadn't. I hated to think what he'd say when he saw them, blushing bright red at the thought. Calmer now, I dressed and went back downstairs to tell my Mom and Dad the phone call was for a job interview early tomorrow morning, and I was going up to town this evening.

"About time." My Dad muttered from behind his newspaper. I could hear the silent 'fucking' as he said it, but not in front of my Mother.

"That's nice dear." She said, smiling at me.

"I might stay overnight Saturday..." I managed to get out. "I'll stay at the 'Y' tonight and tomorrow."

"You'll need some money for the bus fair, and for your stay. Here." She said, grabbing her purse and fishing out a fifty-dollar bill.

"Wow. Thanks Mom, you're the best." The fact I was staying overnight, and Saturday didn't seem strange to them, maybe because they were just glad to get me out of the house for a while, and the prospect of a job.

With that, I went upstairs to pack, throwing a pair of jean, two shirts, some socks, and underwear in an overnight bag, with one eye on the clock. Reaching into the back of the draw, I pulled out all three pairs of panties, tucking them in a sock to hide them, and tossed it into my bag. After that I dropped onto the bed and took several shuddering breaths. Without the pressure of a hard cock, I could think clearly, and looking up I saw myself in the wardrobe mirror. What the fuck was I doing? I asked myself. I'm not a sissy fag. I'm a normal heterosexual male. I want to fuck girls. Fuck them every way possible. I want to find a girl, fall in love, get married, and have kids. At least that's what I told myself, so why am I packing a bag, lying to my parents and going to meet a man who's going to do a lot of nasty, degrading things to me. I took another shuddering breath and thought about it. I tried telling myself I just wanted to experience it for fun. To find out what it was like, but I couldn't convince myself. It was something else, something deep inside that I didn't want to recognize. Why could he see it and not me? I fought with myself for an hour, thinking of the reasons I shouldn't, couldn't, wouldn't go, suddenly realizing that it was almost seven o'clock. Fuck! I was going to be late. I grabbed the bag, shouted 'Bye' to my parents, dashed out of the house, and ran all the way to Starbucks around the corner. I was late, by five minutes, and the man gave me a stern look as I came running up.

"Sorry... I tried not to be late..."

"I'm not interested in excuses. Let's go. I'll deal with your tardiness later." I gulped for breath, feeling a void in the pit of my stomach hearing that.

After all of my self-searching, I haven't even stopped to think when I realized what the time was, I just ran. What did that say about me and what I wanted? His car was a new Caddy, and climbing into the passenger seat I did the seat belt up before he had to tell me, and he drove away. Today, he was dressed in a windbreaker, polo shirt, white slacks, and tan shoes. I notice there was a touch of gray in his dark brown hair, but that made him look distinguished, and his strong masculine face was clean-shaven. I could just smell his aftershave, the same one he wore last Saturday, and for some reason I started to relax. We drove for about an hour on the freeway in light traffic, which meant we'd gone about sixty to seventy miles to where ever he lived. We didn't get there, wherever it was, instead pulling into the parking lots behind a row of commercial building and stopped the car. I started feeling nervous again.

"I have a treat for you."

"A treat?" I stammered.

"Yes. Have you ever been to a spar?"

"Um... you mean the place girls... ladies go to?" That didn't sound good. He smiled and shook his hansom head.

"And men go there. You get a sauna, massage, manicure, pedicure, hair cut, the whole works."

"Oh." Didn't know what to say. It sounded kind of nice, especially the massage part. I'd had that a couple of times when I pulled a muscle in my back, but I felt nervous and it showed. I hated the thought of going to one with all those women looking at me. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small bottle and shook a small white pill out into his hand.

"Here, put this under your tongue and let it dissolve."

"What is it?" I asked suspiciously, not liking the idea of taking drugs.

"Just a mild sedative to calm you down. Are you a little frightened sissy boy?" I gulped and dragged air into my lungs and shook my head.

"No." I managed to get out, trying to assert my manhood.

"Yes you are. That's another lie." He looked at me sternly, and I knew what that meant. He held the pill up to my lips. I let out the breath I was holding in, and with a soft sigh, I opened my mouth, and lifted my tongue. He popped the pill inside and I felt it start dissolving immediately. It tasted bitter and I was tempted to spit it out. Before I could, it had dissolved completely and I started to feel myself relaxing.

"That's better. Let's go in." I hadn't thought he meant now. Breathing heavily, I reached back for my bag, but he stopped me. You won't need that."

By the time we got to the front door, I was definitely relaxed, and feeling no pain as they say, even smiling at the hot looking chick at the front desk. She gave me the arched eyebrow treatment as if I were something she'd just stepped in, but I was feeling so good it didn't bother me.

"I have an appointment."

"Yes, Mr. Garrison. Go right in." So, his name was Garrison, which was something. I followed him into the spar, looking around as we walked. There were a few women getting their hair or nails done, all dressed in thick, fluffy, white terry towel robes. I smiled, wondering what they had on underneath. I found out when Mr. Garrison told me to strip and take a shower. When I came out my clothes were gone, and the only thing I had to wear was one of the white robes. By now, I was sort of out of it, floating on a cloud. The young, hansom guy that walked in with Mr. Garrison looked me up and down as if sizing up his next victim.

"I'd like the full treatment." Mr. Garrison said to the young man and he nodded. They sort of led me out to a one-person sauna and without even realizing it the guy took my robe off and sat me down on the hot wooden seat.

"Fifteen minutes should be enough."

"Yes. You can see he doesn't have much body hair. Remove any he had."

"Permanently?" The guy asked with a smile.

"Yes, permanently. You know the rest, hair, nails, massage, and facial."

"Yes, sir. I'll have Maggie take care of that, and the makeup." That was the last thing I heard before it drifted off completely, not that I understood much before that even, thinking they were talking about someone else, a girl maybe.

I dozed off and knew nothing about the next three hours, and only woke up when the cool breeze from the open car window blew across my face. My face for some reason felt sore, especially around the lips, bridge of my nose and my eyebrows. That wasn't the only place I felt sore. The area around my cock was sore and something felt tight and restricting down there. I wiped my hand over my face, wincing as I scratched my chin with my long fingernails. Wait! I don't have long fingernails. I looked at them, feeling my stomach drop. I did now, long pearly pink nails. I looked at the other hand to make sure, seeing all ten fingers and thumbs the same color. Then it dawned on me my clothes didn't feel right either. I started to feel a little panicky, and looking down saw stocking covered legs emerging from under the hem of a black mini dress. My heart started to pound as I looked higher, seeing the swell of a pair of nice boobies below the top of the dress. I moaned softly and shook my head in disbelief, my hair brushing against the side of my face, soft and caressing.

"How do you feel?" Mr. Garrison asked, glancing at me and smiling.

"Scared!" I admitted, panting for breath.

"Calm down. Nothing was done to you that can't be changed back." He laughed.

I took a few shaky breaths, feeling my senses clear. I now felt something in my butt, uncomfortable and intrusive, guessing it was a butt plug. I gulped and shivered thinking what that meant. A few other things were different and looking down, I wiggled my toe inside a pair of strappy black high-heeled shoes. These had a wide ankle strap with big silver buckles and small 'D' rings on the inside, and it didn't take much to guess what they were for. My throat felt tight, and reaching up I found something around it. Three rows of some kind of beads from the feel of it and a gentle throb in my ear lobes brought my hand up to feel the long dangly earrings in my pierced ears. I sat there, feeling numb again. I didn't have a choice if I wanted to be dressed as a girl. I was dressed as one, and I didn't have any chance to protest, or pretend I didn't want to be dressed that way.

"I brought you some new clothes. I hope you like them." Again, that soft laugh. I didn't know whether to scream, cry, or laugh. Screaming wouldn't do much good and jumping out of the car didn't seem like a good idea doing sixty-five on the freeway.

Strangely, I felt light headed, the drugs, maybe, but I wasn't as upset as I felt I should be. He hadn't given me any choice, so therefore it wasn't my fault, or so I reasoned. Secretly, I'd always wanted to dress up all the way in girl's clothes, now I had my wish. After a while, he pulled the car into the driveway of a large house, parked the car inside the garage, and switched off.

"Let's go." He murmured as he opened the door. Dejectedly, I reached into the back seat for my bag, but it was gone. "Oh, you won't be needing those things this weekend." He said, sticking his head back into the car. "I threw them away. Well, almost everything." He chuckled at some hidden joke.

Getting out, I slowly followed him into the spacious home through the side entrance, feeling odd. The high heels took a little getting used to, the same with the butt plug, but I can't honestly say that the dress and the underclothes under it didn't feel sensual. I could feel the garter belt, pulling gently at the stocking tops, and the feel of the stocking tops around my thighs, holding them tight, nylon whispering on nylon as I walked. Walking into the house, he led me to a large living room, tastefully furnished with expensive furniture. I was all right until he turned the lighting all the way up, and I saw myself in the floor to ceiling wall mirror. I stopped dead in my tracks, not believing what I was seeing. It was me, I knew that by the shocked expression on the face, but it wasn't me. It was a tall, willowy, slim hipped girl looking back, longish blond hair now cut and styled to emphasize her high cheekbones and full, pouting pink lips. The blue eye shadow and black eyeliner made her cornflower blue eye seem to come alive.

The long sleeve black mini dress came down to mid thigh, and the black stocking and strappy heels showed off her long shapely legs to perfection. The three rows of pearls around her throat made her look even more inviting, and I remember my Mother calling it a 'choker'. God, she was one hot bitch in need of fucking! I sucked air into my lungs, realizing I'd stopped breathing. The girl in the mirror who needed fucking was me. I didn't know whether to cry, or fain or do both. Whether I wanted to or not, I was a fully dressed, made up sissy bitchboy. I felt my cock starting to get hard. Then it got painful. I touched myself through the dress, feeling some sort of cock restraint, or chastity device and moaned. I wouldn't even have the pleasure of jacking off, betting it was locked in place. Mr. Garrison came up behind me and ran his hand over my tight bottom, making me shiver.

"If, and I say if you behave yourself, I might permit you to take the chastity device off, maybe once or twice a month and jack off for my pleasure." I bit my pouty lower lips hearing that, feeling another stab of pain as my cock tried to get hard.

The pain quickly defeated any such action. I whimpered again, feeling him turn me round. The next moment he was kissing me, his lips on mine, tongue probing between mine. I shivered and almost of their own accord, my lips parted, and I opened my mouth to receive his probing tongue. I grabbed his arms and held on tight, as pain stabbed through my cock. He knew what had happened, and pulling back, smiling at me.

"You will learn self control, sissy bitch. That's part of your training. No more playing with that sissy cock any more, unless I say so. Understand?" All I could do was nod. "Let me hear you say it."

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" I knew what he wanted me to say, and I let out a small sigh.

"Yes, sir."

"You can call me, Sir, Master, or Daddy if you prefer. Your choice." My eyes flicked up to meet his and I knew what I wanted to say. I hated myself for being so easy. I shouldn't be, I should be fighting, kicking, and screaming, but I couldn't. Why wasn't I outraged at what he'd done to me, or yelling for the police? I guess my mind knew what it wanted before I did, even if this did go beyond anything I'd even dreamed of.

"Yes, Sir." I murmured, my voice even sounding soft and girlish now.

"That's a good sissy bitch. Let me show you the rest of the house." He took me into a large bedroom and showed me around, but my eyes kept coming back to the individual item on the bed. He saw my look and smiled.

"Take your dress off and hang it up. Then put that on." He said nodding to the item on the bed.

He turned me around and unzipped the back of the dress, kissing my exposed shoulder and patting my bottom as he slipped the dress off my shoulders. A shiver ran through me, and I wanted it to be a shiver of revulsion, but I knew it wasn't. I let the dress slip down, hearing his soft footsteps as he moved over and opened a door to a walk in closet and started undressing himself. I picked up the dress and walked into the closet, just as he was pulling on a pair of white shorts. He wasn't wearing any underpants, and I had a quick glimpse of his big cock before it vanished inside the shorts. I dropped my eye, not wanting him to see me looking at it, much as I'd done in the shower with the other guys. Not wanting them to catch me looking and call me a faggot. I suppose it didn't matter now. I was one, no matter what I told myself. Walking back to the bed, I picked up the sheer pink gown and held it up. It was a toga, with an opening for the head and small gold chains holding the open sides together.

I slipped it over my head and let it slither down my body. My boobies were fake of course, being silicon pads inside my bra. For a moment, I wished I had real ones for him to play with, and then I caught myself. What on earth was I thinking? If I had real tits, I could never go back to being a guy. That was a scary thought; having to stay as a fake girl and having all my buddies and parents see me like this. There would be no way I could avoid being called a cock sucking faggot bitch then. The toga settled around my body, coming down to mid thigh, and the open sides letting in the air to cool my hot body. I looked at myself in the wall mirror and shivered, but it had nothing to do with the cool air. I was here, dressed like this for one purpose. To be used by Mr. Garrison as his sissy boy fag and nothing else. Unlike a real girl, there was no question of if I'd let him fuck me, or suck his cock, I didn't have a choice.

That wasn't the worst of it, as I was about to find out. 'Daddy' came back out of the closet and took a straight back wooden chair and set it in the center of the room in front of the giant mirror. I started shaking as I saw what he held in his hand. It was an eighteen-inch long, one-inch wide black leather strap. I didn't even see what he had in his other hand, as I couldn't drag my eyes away from the strap. I knew what was coming next and almost started crying right then and there. He sat on the bed and motioned me over. For a moment, I couldn't move until he reached out and grabbed my wrist. Pulling me close, be buckled and lock a black leather wrist cuff around each wrist and then hooked them together. That would stop me trying to put my hands back to prevent him spanking me. I felt my eye tear up, desperately wanting to say something, but couldn't think of anything to say. He'd warned me about being late, and about lying to him, and what would happen so I only had myself to blame. It was the last thing that took me over the edge and had me crying. It was the soiled pink panties.

"I see you have been indulging in that nasty habit of yours, haven't you?" I could only nod and hang my head in shame. "I am going to cure you of that starting this evening." He held up the dirty panties, so I could see them, especially the semi dried cum on the inside and the stains from before. They were also stained with other things as well, both yellow and brown. He turned them inside out so all the stained parts showed.

"Open your mouth." He snapped. "This will teach you not to be a dirty little sissy cunt in the future." Slowly, sobbing and crying, I opened my mouth, but it wasn't wide enough for him, and grabbing my chin, he pulled it open. Using one finger slowly and deliberately stuffed the dirty panties into my mouth until they were all in.

"You will keep them there until I have finished your punishment. If you spit them out you will sleep with them in your mouth, understand?" hiccupping and sobbing, I nodded, hating the taste and smell filling my nose and mouth.

After that, he pulled me over to the chair and sat down, whereupon he pulled me over his lap. I felt my dress pulled up, and my panties jerked down to expose my bottom, and for a split second, I remembered the erotic fantasy I'd had about being spanked by my Mom or Dad while wearing girl's panties. Now my 'Daddy' was going to do just that. The first stinging slap landed across my bottom, and there was nothing erotic in it. It hurt, and I squeal around the horrible cloying taste of the panties in my mouth, and yes, I heard myself squeal like a girl. God! He didn't stop, spanking me harder and harder until I thought I was going to faint with pain. I kicked my legs, pulled, and jerked, trying to escape the rapid succession of stinging slaps of the leather strap, but it was useless. He held me tight against him, his hard cock pushing into my side as he laid into my bottom. After what seemed like an eternity, he stopped and pushed me to the floor, and I lay there, sobbing my heart out. This couldn't be happening to me. I didn't want this, hadn't agreed to it and wanted to go home to my Mommy. He reached over and pulled the dirty panties out of my mouth, dropping them on the floor beside me where I could see them. They were also part of the reason he'd spanked me, for getting them dirty.

"Are you sorry for being late, sissy bitch?" I could only nod, sobbing too much to utter a word. "Good. Now you can show me how sorry you are." Saying that he stood and dropped his shorts and sat down again. "The way you are going to show me how sorry you are is by getting between my legs and taking my cock in your pretty pouty mouth and sucking me off, sissy cunt. It's either that or I spank you again, which is it?" I looked up at him with pleading eyes. I didn't want another spanking.

Reluctantly, I crawled between his open legs and leaned forward to kiss and lick his cock head. My butt was on fire with a deep burning pain like I'd never felt before, and the ring kept clutching at the butt plug. With a sob, I took the head of his huge cock into my mouth and started to lick and suck it, tasting his rich manhood again. It filled my mouth as I sucked pre-cum out of his cock, the taste overwhelming my senses. Taking my head between his hands, he started moving it back and forth, showing me what he wanted, and it wasn't long before I was doing it myself. I shouldn't have wanted to do it after the way he spanked me, but I did, working my head back and forth faster and faster. I was a cock sucking sissy bitch faggot now, and that's what dirty little perverts like me did. Suddenly his cock erupted in my mouth, and I almost choked as his hot cum flooded my mouth. I cried against, but for what, I couldn't say.

"Show me!" He snapped, and I obediently opened my mouth to show him the cum I was holding there. "Good bitch, now swallow it." I did, feeling it slide down my throat, gagging slightly at the taste. "Good, now go and stand in that corned, and stay there until I tell you to move." He pointed at a mirror corner. I stood on shaky legs, walked to the corner, and did what he said.

I felt miserable, degraded, and humiliated. No one had ever treated me this way, or spanked my like this. It hurt, and I dearly wanted to rub my bottom, but I couldn't. I stood there, seeing myself close up, crying to myself like some stupid girl. He left me standing there for half an hour before coming back up and unhooking the cuffs. He didn't take them off and knew I'd better get used to wearing them.

"Pull your panties up and follow me." Hurriedly I did, wincing as the material scraped over my sore bottom like sand paper over an open cut and following him into the hallway and downstairs again.

Entering the kitchen, he dried my eyes and gave me a kiss before showing me where everything was, and together we made a light supper, every so often stifling a sob. He didn't pretend he didn't want to fuck me, and took every opportunity to brush by me and rub my body or touch me softly in different places as he might a real female. He'd squeeze my thigh or arm, or slip his hand between the cheeks of my ass. At first, like any guy, I was a little embarrassed by it, even a little upset, or I should say pissed off. Guys aren't supposed to touch each other like that, only faggot and queers did that. Wait! I was dressed up like a girl, prancing around in stocking, garter belt and high heels, pouty lips coated in pink lipstick and wearing a padded bra. I blushed, I was a queer, and oddly, I wasn't as upset as I should be. While I made coffee the way he told me, I thought about that. I should be as mad as hell about what he'd done to me, not to mention the whipping he'd just given me, or my urge to call him 'Daddy' in a softy wimpy voice, damn it I was almost lisping it. I looked over at him from under my long dark eyelashes, and he blew me a kiss. I blushed and looked down, a little smile pulling at my pink lips. Oh, lord! I found I wanted to please him and see him smile at me. I brushed the thought away. I'm only doing this for... um... fun, to see what it's like, not to make a lift style change for heaven's sake, I told myself.

We had our supper, and he poured a glass of wine for me. I'd always thought of myself as a beer guy and not into wine. That was for homos and intellectual wimps and people like that. Real macho guys drank beer, not sit outside in the warm summer air, sipping wine. It was rather good, a Cab as he called it, full bodied and full of hidden surprises and taste, finding I not only enjoyed it, but wanted more of this, and I didn't mean just the wine. He yawned and my heart started pounding again. Yawning meant bed. Bed meant we'd be in it together. That meant... My heart pounded harder as he stood up and took the glasses into the kitchen to wash. I just sat there, thought racing through my brain like a little mouse in a maze looking for a way out. I jumped slightly as he came up behind me and stroked my hair.

"Time to go to bed, sissy bitch." He said, leaning down to whisper in my ear, kissing it after he spoke.

He drew me out of the chair and taking my hand led me upstairs again. The sound of my high heels loud on the tiled floor, clip-clop, clip-clip, clip-clop, each unsteady step taking me closer and closer to the bedroom. Breathing hard in panic, I couldn't stop my heart pounding, or my hands from shaking, and the light supper felt like a lead weight in the pit of my stomach as that final moment arrived.

"Get undressed and go take a shower." He ordered. I looked hesitantly at the bed, then the bathroom, suddenly having this overwhelming urge to pee, and something else.

"I... I need..." God, how stupid I sounded, I could even say I wanted to go for a... geez I couldn't even think it. He smiled at me and walked over. Standing close looking into my eyes and reaching down did something at my crotch, freeing my cock and balls.

"Turn around." I felt myself stiffen and slowly spun around on my heels. I felt his hand slide across my cheeks and do something, then a pulling sensation as he removed the butt plug. It didn't really hurt when he pulled it out, and I wondered why. I'm a virgin, and as my friend always said, a tight ass, but I wasn't now. He gave my ass a little slap to propel me toward the bathroom, and I quickly headed for the toilet. If I thought that was it, I was mistaken, as he followed me in just as I sat down.

"Sit up with your back straight, legs and feet open, and your hands on your thighs." I gulped seeing him standing there watching me, and for a moment I couldn't pee, as much as I wanted to.

It's hard when someone standing there watching you, but he must have known what I was thinking, as he walked over and ran the tap. I heard about that, and thought it nothing more than an old wives tail until suddenly I was peeing. I sighed in relief and let go, jerking myself upright as I felt myself start to slump. Damn it, I didn't want him to spank my sore ass again tonight for disobedience. Did that mean I wanted him to spank my ass tomorrow, a little devil in the back of my mind asked? I frowned and chased the thought away. Of course I didn't want him to spank me damn it! Wiping careful I stood up and flushed, then got undressed and ran the shower. Something was bothering me, well a lot of things were bothering me, my own sexuality for one, but this was something else. After the water got hot, I stepped in, wondering if the wrist cuffs were waterproof. I guess they were, or he'd have taken the off. The hot water felt great, and I just stood there a moment with my eyes closed and let it wash over me.

"Make sure you use the pink and yellow shampoo and conditioner, and here's some soap for you to use. I jumped, not even realizing he was there until he spoke.

"Yes, Daddy." I murmured as I took the soap, cringing inside hearing myself say `daddy' to him. Why on earth I picked that I don't know. I could have picked sir, or Master, but it was too late to change it now.

I shampooed and conditioned my hair, the heady fragrance filling the bathroom with the smell of perfume and flowers. The soap was just as strong, and I knew I'd smelled like a sissy fairy when I stepped out. Taking the sponge, I discovered that the soap fitted inside, and working up lather began soaping myself all over. It was when I reach my cock that I remembered what was bothering me. My balls were gone. I froze. I couldn't think. When? Where? How? All tumbling together. My back hit the shower wall as my legs gave way and I slid down the wall onto the floor, water cascading over my head, washing the tears away as they streamed down my face.

"What's wrong?" Mr. Garrison asked in alarm kneeling beside me. I looked up with pleading eyes, sobbing.

"My..." I couldn't even say it, just waved my hand toward my crotch.

"Oh, that." He said, standing, wiping his hands and arms with a towel. "Not to worry sissy bitch, your balls are still there, I didn't have you castrated, but it's a thought if you don't behave. They were small anyway, not real men's balls like they should be for a boy your age, so I had them tucked back in where they came from and had the pouch removed." He laughed seeing the show of relief on my face. "Apart from that pathetic little thing you call a cock..." He paused. "It's more like a large clitty than a real guy's cock and you now have a nice smooth crotch like a girl. It will be sore for a few days until the incision heals. Now finish showering and dry off." The last part had sternness to it, and I slowly got to my feet.

I still wasn't sure he was telling the absolute truth, but I couldn't do anything about it. I fingered the place where they should be very gentle, feeling the waterproof bandage and the small lumps where my balls were. He hadn't lied, they were there, just tucked up out of the way. Feeling dejected, I finished showering, got out, dried off, and blow-dried my hair. My clothes were gone except for the toga and my pair of black nylon crotchless panties. That's all he wanted me to wear tonight, with the obvious implications. I supposed I'd have to redo my makeup or something, but when I looked in the mirror, I discovered it was just as perfect as when I got into the shower. I gulped, and taking a tissue, I tried to remove the eye shadow, then the lipstick. They didn't come off. I felt a flash of panic, thinking I might have to go home like this, then remembered something my Mother told me one day about this new semi permanent makeup they had on the market now.

All I have to do was add a little lip-gloss he'd left sitting on the shelf, and I was ready. Well, not ready, ready, but ready enough to walk into the bedroom. He was waiting for me, dressed in a short blue robe and sitting at a desk writing in a book. He looked up as I walked over, biting my lower lip and shivering with... Something. Fear, anticipation, I wasn't sure what, only my cock started to get hard. He stood up and looked into my eyes and without saying a word, took my arm and led me to the foot of the bed and pushed me up against the padded end rail.

"Stand there and close your eyes, sissy bitch." My stomach sucked in hearing that and did what he said, starting to shake now.

I didn't know if I could go through with it no matter how horny I was. I heard and felt him clip something to my wrist after he lifted my arm away from my body, something that held it there. I pulled a little, but it didn't give. Before I could do anything, even if I'd wanted to, he did the same to the other arm. I gasped and started to pant, feeling myself shiver. Grasping my by the neck, he slowly and forcefully pushed me down over the padded rail, and with my arms secured like that I couldn't stop him, nor could I stand up again.

"Oh god! No... please..." I wanted to scream, but I couldn't breathe. I felt him put something around each ankle, guessing something similar to the wrist cuffs, and he forced my legs apart and did the same as my arms.

I wanted to fight, really I did. I wanted to scream, yell, and order him to stop. Free me so I could go home, back to the life I had before. Instead, I just sobbed into the bed cover as he forced my legs open wide and secured them that way. He left me there for a few moments, before grabbing me by the hair and forcing my head back. I opened my eye, seeing the dirty pink panties again, and I didn't need him to tell me they were going back in my mouth.

"Please, no... I started to say, but he grabbed my face and forced my mouth open and stuffed the wet, dirty panties inside.

The horrible cloying taste flooded my mouth, and to make it worse, he tied a ribbon or something around my head to hold them in place. I felt him flip the bottom of my toga up and run his hands all over my bottom and thighs, then between my legs. A moment later he was playing with my cock, and no matter how much I tried, I started getting hard. I felt so ashamed, I'd let a guy tie me down with the sole intention of fucking me, and I'd done nothing to stop him. As he jacked me off, I groaned as his thumb slipped into my ass. It was so easy that I felt like a slut, until I remembered the butt plug he'd made me wear. That's why his thumb slipped in so easy. He kept working my cock, and slipping his thumb in and out until I started panting. I felt a finger go in next, then two, then three, groaning a little as he worked them in and out. I felt disgusted with myself as my hips started to buck back and forth, not so much because of his fingers, but from the way he was working my cock. I almost climaxed, but he stopped before I did, and squeezed my cock hard, holding it like that until I'd calm down.

"Umm, I believe the little sissy faggot is ready to get his first butt fucking now." He made it sound so dirty and nasty I wanted to cry. "You have a nice tight sissy cunt bitch boy, and now it's all slippery and ready for my nice big cock." He laughed as he worked the head between the cheeks of my ass and into the ring.

I wanted to beg and scream, plead with him not to fuck me and let me suck him off instead, but he'd even taken that away from me, just as he was going to take my virginity. The butt plug and the lube had done their job, and the head slipped inside me. I sobbed, as that was the easy part. The head of his cock was smaller than the shaft as I knew from having it in my mouth. Reaching back, he spread the cheeks of my ass, and thrust his cock in, hard. I screamed, or tried to around the gag, but nothing came out. He wasn't kind or gentle, but thrust into me hard, slowly driving all eight inches of his huge, fat cock into me.

Guys fear getting raped just as much as girls do, and that's what he was doing, raping me. It was just as much against my will, even though I'd willingly put myself in the position, so he could. I didn't think about that said about me until later, as right then I felt his thighs hit my bottom. God it hurt and he held it there as I struggled against the retaining straps. This is what I'd been dreading since that first time in the movies, and somehow I knew I wasn't a real man any more. I was nothing but a crossdressing sissy fag and getting his first fucking. After a few moments, my ring started to relax to accommodate his huge cock, and I felt him take hold of my hips to hold in place just before he started fucking me.

"Now move your ass sissy cunt!" He growled, giving me a quick slap. Sobbing in shame, I started moving my hips, first back and forth, then side to side. "That's it, keep moving you little faggot. Show me what a fucking whore you are and how much you like my big dick." I did, trying to please him. He reached up and slipped the ribbon off my head, and pulled the gag out of my mouth. "Let me hear you squeal like a little girl, faggot." Saying that, he slammed his cock into me hard, and I did squeal.

"Oh god, it hurts!" I moaned.

"I don't care you stupid little faggot cunt. This is all you are really good for." He hissed between breathes. "I knew I was going to fuck you silly the first time I saw you in the department store. You looked even better in the pretty pink panties. You were such a nasty little cock sucker faggot kneeling there sucking my cock." It felt like he'd hit me hearing that.

Was it so obvious even then? I buried my made up face in the bed covers and cried. I'm not a sissy faggot, I kept telling myself, but the hard cock ramming in and out of my ass said different. What made it worse was, my cock was getting hard, and my hips were still bucking back against his cock. The overpowering feeling of shame and humiliation went even deeper when I realized. I was starting to enjoy being fucked like this. How stupid was that. I groaned and bucked harder, the feeling of shame and humiliation making me even hotter.

"That's better. Now the sissy fag likes it." I couldn't deny it, and spreading my legs open even further, I lifted my butt, so he could drive his big fat cock all the way in. I was lost, I was a dirty little faggot cunt, and I like it.

"That's a good little cunt milk Daddy's nice big cock with your sissy pussy. Show Daddy, how much you like being his bitch boy." He gasped. I did, wiggling and bucking my hips, squeezing the ring of my 'sissy cunt' around his big cock.

I felt myself coming about the same time he did, feeling his cock swell just before he shot his load into me. I whimpered like a girl as I shot my cum without even having to touch myself. For a while, he laid over my back, breathing heavily in my ear. I could smell his aftershave, and felt happy and contented as I drifted on a soft pink cloud. A little while later he started to move, first kissing me on my neck before he pulled his cock out. I groaned softly, not sure if I wanted it in or out. Taking a towel, he wiped me clean before releasing me and putting me to bed. I drifted, feeling him get into bed with me and draw me into his arms.

"Is Daddy's little faggot sissy bitch happy now?" He whispered in my ear.

"Yes, Daddy I am." Feeling warm and safe saying it now, and with that I drifted off to sleep.

The next morning when I came awake, I lay there, warm and safe. There was only a moment of disorientation about where I was. I lay there, half-awake, half asleep thinking over the events leading up to and including what happened last night. I found I wasn't as outraged as I thought I'd be, or supposed I should be. It was a bit hard to reconcile that fact that before last Saturday, I was walking around thinking of myself as a straight sort of macho kind of guy, looking to get his first lay and doing all the things that real straight guys do. If someone had told me that in less than a month, I'd be a dressed up, sweet smelling prancing sissy queer, sucking cock and getting fucked in the ass and liking it, I would have probably killed them. Yet here I was, and that's exactly what happened. More awake now, I thought about how I felt about it all, and to tell the truth, I didn't really have an answer. Was this what I wanted? Or did I want to go back to being that other guy. He seemed a bit of a senseless nerd now, who didn't know what day of the week it was most of the time. Nor did he know who he was, or where he was going. Yet did I? No answer, just a blank slate with a big question mark in the middle.

I carefully rolled over with some trepidation expecting to see the man who'd raped me lying beside me. I felt an acute sense of disappointment to discover his side of the bed empty. In the end, the demand to pee drove me out of bed and into the toilet, and out of habit, I started to pee standing up. I shook my head. That wouldn't do. If Daddy came in and caught me, I'd get spanked again, so I quickly sat down. Remembering what he'd said, I sat up straight, opened my legs, and put my hands on my thighs, just in case he came in on silent footsteps. After, I cleaned myself and flushed, I undressed and took a shower. It felt good, and I breathed in the soft, fragrant smell of the perfumed shampoo, conditioner, and soap. When I came out, I found my toga gone and in its place a black nylon and lace teddy, sheer, black nylon panties and a sheer floor length white robe and a pair of high-heeled slippers. It didn't take long to blow-dry my hair, adding a little lip-gloss and got dressed. Arriving downstairs, I found Daddy on the patio with a mug of coffee reading the newspaper. He looked up as I came in, and nodded toward a side table, where I found scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages, and toast in a warmer on a side table. I took a plateful as I was starving, not having eaten since lunch the day before. I almost chocked when a good-looking young lady walked in dressed in a short maid uniform. She came over and poured my coffee, smiling slightly when I said thank you, blushing to the roots of my hair. She asked Daddy if he wanted anything else, but he shook his head, and she went back into the house.

"We have to go into town today for a lunch meeting with a business client, so after breakfast you need to dress and get ready, Nora will help you." He looked at his watch for a moment. "I'll expect you dressed and ready to go in one hour." He smiled and stood up to leave, but not before coming around and kissing me on the top of my head. I smiled at that. He was so aggressive and cruel last night, and so thoughtful and considerate this morning.

Nora did help me get dressed, smiling as she held out a black lace, padded bra. Blushing furiously, I took off the robe and teddy, and held my arms out for her to slip the bra up my arms. She didn't say anything, and I was too tongue tied to say anything to her. Next, she took a lacy black garter belt out of a draw and placed it around my waist, hooking it together at the back. In a way, it felt exhilarated, having this done for me, no matter how much I blushed. I felt her tuck the garter strap at the back, gently pulling them through inside my panties. She did the same at the front, and I wondered why. Then it clicked. If the garter straps were on the outside, I couldn't pull the panties down to pee.

For a moment, I started to feel my cock swell under her touch, but only for a moment. Walking over to the desk, she pulled out the straight-backed chair, turning it around and asked me to sit. I did, not sure what to do with my hands. Kneeling down, she pulled on a pair of white silk gloves and removed the ankle cuffs before taking a lace topped black stocking out of the pocket of her dress. I wondered what she thought about the wrist and ankle cuff, yet the way she handled them, I had the feeling they weren't new to her. I watch in fascination as she carefully rolled the stocking up in her hands and pulled it open and asked me in a soft voice to lift my foot. I did, and she carefully worked the stocking over it, working the soft clinging fabric up my leg. She did the same to the other leg and asked me to stand. I did, and with a delicate touch attached the stocking to the garter straps. Now I felt myself get hard, impossible for her not to notice kneeling in front of me like that, but she didn't say a word, or acknowledge it in any way.

She lifted my arms and checked my now hairless armpits, spraying on a little perfume before letting me put the teddy back on. After that, she'd finished adjusting my stocking, garter belt, and panties to her satisfaction, and lastly held up a pile of bright colored material and gently placed it over my head. The soft, electric blue dress, slid down my body, seeming to mold itself to my figure as she zipped me up, emphasizing my small high breasts, or at least the padding where they should be, but I still felt naked. The hem was just above the knees, and I could feel the air moving underneath, it was a strange feeling, and I wondered how girls felt. I couldn't help notice the lace tops of my stocking brushed against each other as I walked, or the hot/cold feel of the nylons stocking. She took a pair of high heels out of the closet, and I held my foot out for to put them on when she asked. Her finger sent little electric shocks up my legs as she buckled the ankle straps, and like the ones I wore the day before, these had silver 'D' ring attached to the ankle straps. These had three in high heels, strappy things, with open toes so you could see my pink toenails through the stocking and straps. Thankfully, the long, loose sleeve of the dress helped to hide the wrist straps as long as I kept my arms down. The last item was the three-strand pearl choker, I'd worn the day before, and I thought how much it resembled a slave collar. I'd read about those in a horny sex slave story I'd read, and wondered if the similarity was intentional. For a moment, it felt tight and restricting around my throat, but after it warmed up, I hardly noticed it at all. Daddy inspected me when I came down, nodding in satisfaction at what he saw.

"You are a hot looking sissy bitch, aren't you?" He laughed as I blushed, and taking my arm, led me out to the car. I could feel the intensity of my blush hearing him say that, as I'd never been what you'd call good looking or really hansom as a guy. It seemed that I was better looking as a girl, or at least a girlyboy, than I ever was as a guy.

We drove into the city to one of the big expensive hotels, and for me it was nerve wracking to have to walk beside him through the hotel lobby with all the people looking at us, or at least to me, they were looking. I know I blushed a lot, and kept my eyes on the floor most of the time, but every so often I looked up, seeing some guys, old, and young eyeing me. They knew what I was for sure. They could tell I wasn't a real girl, but a swishy little sissy fairy in a dress. We sat in the lounge for a while, and thankfully it was a little darker in there, so I could breathe a little easier. Daddy ordered me a glass of white wine, and I sat there sipping it as he spoke on his cell phone. After about half an hour, this good-looking old gentleman came up to us, and Daddy stood and shook hands with him. He looked at me, his eyes traveling up and down my body in a very suggestive way, and I suddenly realized that this was exactly the way I'd looked at girls, but not so obvious.

Did girls feel as embarrassed as I was? It was a thought. I bit my lower lips when he shook hands with me, as he could see the black leather wrist cuff, and I knew he knew what they were, Girls don't usually wear bondage stuff as a fashion accessory. The guy was the client Daddy was meeting, and after finishing my wine, we went in and had lunch. I didn't talk much, except to say please or thank you to Daddy or the waiter. I felt a little mad at the waiter as he kept trying to look down the top of my dress, but a stern look from Daddy made me sit up and act sweet. Daddy insisted I have two more glasses of wine, and I felt the last one go to my head a little. The other guy kept looking at me and smiling for some reason, but I didn't take any notice of it after a while. Thankfully, after lunch, we went up to his suite where they talked about business for a while, and I thought I'd get an opportunity for a short nap. Daddy gave me a glass of water, and I sat there sipping it, until I felt the necessity to go to the toilet. I felt a little light headed when I came back, hearing Daddy say that he had to go out for a while to get some legal papers, and would Mr. someone or other take care of me while he was away. He suggested that I take a nap, whispering in my ear not to wrinkle the dress. He unzipped the back of the dress and pointed me toward the bedroom, giving my bottom a short, sharp slap to help me on my way, hearing him say I should behave myself, or else. I wasn't sure what that meant until later.

Entering the bedroom, I found the curtains draw, but enough sunlight leaked around the edges for me to see. If I was going to take a nap, a dark room was just the place. Reaching back, I lifted the hem of the dress, peeled it off, carefully folding it, and placing it on a chair, and taking a light blanket off the end of the bed, I laid down and quickly fell asleep. At one point, I dimly heard someone coming into the bedroom, and I think they lifted the blanket, but I couldn't be sure. Daddy came back, and soon after we left and went 'home', at least, I thought of it that way. Daddy used me hard that afternoon, spanking me with the strap again, tied down over the end of the bed until I was a trembling lump of jelly. He brutally 'raped' me, driving into me until I was whimpering. After, he simply pulled out and left me there, crying, wishing he was still inside me.

It was Nora that gently cleaned me and applied a soothing cream to my bottom, and after releasing me, gently wiped me down all over with a soft warm cloth before putting me to bed for a nap. Later she came back, dressed me in seductive lingerie and high heels, and took me down for supper, serving us a wonderful meal. I had several glasses of good wine and finally relaxed, sitting next to Daddy and watched a new movie on TV. He took me to bed and made slow, gentle love; I suppose you'd call it, entered me gentle. It didn't take long under his administering hands for me to have my legs locked around his waist, begging him to fuck me harder, and he did, bring me to a different kind of climax. I drifted off to sleep, feeling him beside me, breathing softly in my ear and was content.

On Monday morning, I got up and took a shower, but instead of my usual clothes, Nora had laid out an ordinary running suit and a pair of plain white boy's leg panties. I was sort of surprised and felt a sharp twinge of disappointment for some reason. The clothes were ordinary, in that they could be worn by a guy or a girl. Puzzled, I put them on and went down for breakfast, but even that was short and sweet. Just coffee and some toast. Daddy didn't say much, and soon after we were in his car off to somewhere. When we pulled into the parking lot, I immediately recognized the back of the spar, and gave him a puzzled look.

"Here, put this under your tongue." It was the same white pill he'd given me that first night.

I looked at it, then up to meet Daddy's eye, but his face was expressionless. I remembered what happened to me the first time, but other than a few 'major' alterations, I didn't think there was much else they could do to me. Taking a deep breath, I opened my mouth, and he popped the pill in and I tucked it under my tongue. As before, the pill started working almost immediately and by the time we reach the front door I was floating again. This time Daddy held onto my arm and walked straight in. We were met by the same guy, and he gave me a nice smile as he took my arm. If they spoke, I don't remember it, just laying down on the nice soft table and drifting off to sleep.

As before, I came awake, sitting in the passenger seat with the warm breeze from the open window blowing on my face. I woke up fast this time, feeling a sense of panic. My clothes didn't feel right, tight, and rough, nor did my body, and it took me a moment to realize what the difference was. Then I knew. I was dressed in my own clothes, guy clothes. My pink peal nails were gone, as were the earrings, and it was almost as if the weekend hadn't happened. Had I dreamed the whole thing? I reached up to feel my ear lobes, and I could feel the holes where the earrings had been, so I knew I hadn't dreamed the whole thing. My sneaker and socks didn't feel right either, and I knew without looking my toenails weren't painted any longer. I looked at Daddy, but he ignored me, and for some reason, I was afraid to say anything. We drove into another part of town, ending up at the bus station of all places where he drove into the parking lot and stopped the car in front of the station restaurant.

"I want you to go in and get a table for us. I'll be along shortly, understood?" His voice firm and commanding.

"Yes... um... yes sir." I murmured. I could use the other name he liked, but it just didn't feel right like this. I started to get out, and he touched my arm to get my attention, and handed me my own overnight bag.

"Don't forget this."

Now I was really scared. This didn't make sense to me, but I did what he said and got us a table. About ten minutes later, he came in and slid into the seat opposite, looking around the restaurant with obvious distaste. The place didn't have much going for it, sort of seamy and low class. He ordered coffee for us, and waved the menu away. We definitely weren't going to eat here, so why were we here.

"Okay, time to lay my cards on the table and tell you what this is all about." As he spoke, he took an envelope out of his inside jacket pocket and laid it on the scratched tabletop between us. "In here is a bus ticket back home. There is also $250 dollars for you." I gulped in surprise. No one had ever just given me $250 bucks before. I glanced up at him, meeting his eyes, but I couldn't tell anything from his face what this was all about.

"Um... why..." I started to say, but he held his hand up.

"Just listen." He gave me a little smile. "When we first met at the movies, I thought to just have a little fun. Dress you up for the weekend, and send you home with a little something extra." He paused a moment and looked around the coffee shop, but I don't think he was really seeing it. "What I didn't expect was that you'd look so damn good dressed." I blushed, as I didn't think I looked that good. But it was nice to hear him say it.

"From your reaction... well, let just say you didn't do what I expected, and let's leave it at that for now." I think I knew what he meant. Why hadn't I started screaming and carrying on, maybe attack him or something. I hadn't. I never occurred to me until now. "Anyway. I was going to send you home on Sunday morning, but you were so... enticing that I just had to have you another night." He smiled then, his hand lifting as if to touch my face. He pulled his arm back and wrapped his hand around his coffee cup instead.

"As you know, if you were listening, I do a lot of international business. I have clients from all over the world coming to see me. You met, one of them, and much to my surprise, he was very impressed with you." He hesitated a moment and looked around, but there was no one close to use. "He saw you in the bedroom, and expressed a desire to spend the evening with you."

"Oh!" Then I remembered. Someone had come into the bedroom and lifted the blanket, and I blushed. There was no doubt he knew what I was. "A lot of those clients like to relax after work." Mr. Garrison continued. "They sometimes want discreet encounters with someone um... let's say different, in a place where their business associated, family, and others would have no knowledge of the encounter." He looked at me to make sure I understood what he was saying. I did, feeling a little unsettled.

"What..." I coughed softly to clear the lump out of my throat. "What would I have to do?" I said at last.

"Nothing you haven't done already. You have shown you enjoy many of the aspects of that kind of... entertainment, including the use of a strap." I felt my butt get a little warm and understood what he was saying. "Understand this. I'm not your pimp, but your manager, shall we say. Any and all present or other financial rewards my clients might want to give you are yours. You can do with them whatever you want, or, under certain conditions profitably invest them in business deals I recommend." I looked at him, then down at the envelope and back up again.

"This has to be your choice, and it's strictly up to you. I want you to take that envelope and do one of two things." He stopped and looked at his watch. "I will stay here, drinking this horrible coffee for ten minutes after your bus leaves, which is in fifteen minutes from now. After that, I will walk out, get in my car, and drive away. You can either be on the bus or in my car, whichever you choose." My mouth made a big 'O' of surprise, and I just sat there blinking at him.

"If... if..." I stammered. "If I get in your car...?"

"If, and I say, if you get in my car, you will find some detailed instruction in the envelope. Follow them to the letter, or be on the bus, your choice. Now go." Saying that he pulled a book out of his pocket, began to read, and pointedly ignored me.

I didn't know what to say, if anything, nor what to do. I thought for a moment I'd done something wrong, but rejected that. If I had, I would have been over his lap getting punished with the strap. I must have sat there for five minutes, watching the clock tick away the seconds before standing up and grabbing the envelope. I walked out in a sort of daze, looking at the buses, the ticket, and back at Mr. Garrison, and back at the bus. I read the instructions and understood what I had to do if I got in his car. On the other hand, all I had to do was get on that bus and it would be over, and I'd be $250 bucks richer. I could go back to being Mr. Macho man, hanging around with the guys, drinking beer, and chasing the girls to get laid. Belching and farting my way through my ordinary humdrum life, and no one would ever know about this weekend except me, Mr. Garrison and Nora. On the other hand, I could get in Mr. Garrison's car and... Then what? I'd be a dressed up swishy sissy fairy and get used by Mr. Garrison's and his clients for their pleasure. I knew what that meant. Probably exactly what he did to me, and maybe a little more. I looked at the bus ticket again, back to the restaurant, then at the clock. I had less than five minutes to decide, one way or the other. I looked around the bus station, seeing graffiti and trash, smelling the diesel and fumes. Ordinary everyday people getting on and off the buses as they rolled in. People with ordinary everyday lives. Safe, secure and I suppose happy in their ordinariness.

On the other hand, what could I expect? Being turned into a dressed up, cock sucking, prancing sissy fag. Being beaten, raped, abused, and humiliated for another man's pleasure and entertainment. I'd never be able to just sit back in my jock underwear, watch the ball game, drink beer and pizza, belch, fart and scratch my balls, which I remembered I didn't really have any more, and generally act like an ordinary guy. Did I want to be like the people getting on and off the buses, safe and secure in their ordinary lives, or that other person, that was the question? I walked slowly around the station to where my bus was leaving and stood in the doorway. Just three steps and I'd be on board and my 'fun' weekend would be over, just three little steps. That was all I needed to take.

"You goner get on or not!" A loud voice behind me said.

"What?" I stammered in confusion.

"You fucking deaf! Get the fuck on the bus or get the fuck out of the way, faggot!" I turned and looked at the guy, bigger, stronger, unshaven and a moron.

My fist came around out of nowhere, and I decked the guy, thinking of all the times, some asshole in the locker room who'd call me that, and I'd done nothing about it. Now I did. The guy went down like a sack of shit, hitting the ground with a thud. He lay there looking shaken, holding his jaw.

"No one calls me a faggot, unless they mean it." I growled, fist clenched, ready to punch him again if he got up.

"Hey man, take it easy. I didn't mean nothing by it, honest." He waved his hand at me as I moved forward, assuming I was going to hit him again. I wasn't, I just walked over him and headed for Mr. Garrison's car.

The passenger side door was unlocked, and the light went on as I opened the door, seeing another bag in the well behind the seat and retrieved it. I eyed the dashboard clock, and knew I had to hurry. Taking the bag, I dashed to the toilet, emerging ten minutes later, walked out, head high and my eyes locked on the sliver Cadillac in the parking lot. I knew where I was going now. My high heels click-clacked across the pavement, and I felt the cool air caress my stocking covered legs and move under the hem of my electric blue dress. I only had time to put on a little makeup, blue eye shadow, bright pink lipstick and my long gold earrings. I heard guys whistling and calling me, but I ignored them. There was only one man I was interested in satisfying, and they weren't him. In passing, I dropped my old bag in the trash bin with everything I'd arrived in except my wallet. I wouldn't be needing them any longer. Those were guy's things, and I wasn't a real guy any more. I was a dressed up, a prancing little sissy fairy, faggot bitch, and I wanted to be treated that way.

Opening the door to the Caddy I got in and opened the glove compartment, taking out the last item I had to wear. Even so, I felt myself gasp for air as I bucked and locked the black leather slave collar around my throat, and hooked the chain leash to the 'D' ring in front and laid the other end over the steering wheel. The door finally opened and Daddy got in. He looked at me, then the chain as he closed the door. Without a word, he took it and gave a gentle tug. I obediently moved over as he pulled on the chain until I was sitting next to him. He leaned over, put his hand on the back of my head, and kissed me. My mouth opened to accept his probing tongue, and I willingly sucked it into my mouth as he ran his hand possessively over my body. His hand roughly pushed my legs apart, and I sighed into his mouth as he reached under my dress and stroked my cock. It stiffened under his touch, but he didn't do more than that before moving up to my breast. For a moment, he felt the soft mound, squeezing, and fondling them. After a moment, he stopped and pulled back with a sigh and started the car.

"I need to take you home and fuck you bitch!" He said as he carefully pulled out of the bus station parking lot and headed for the freeway. "You need to get some real titties for me to play with." He laughed, smiling at me. I sucked in my breath and looked shyly at the floor, blushing as I wondered what it would be like to feel his strong hands playing with my real tits.

"Yes, Daddy." I murmured tucking my legs up and cuddling up to him as he put his arm protectively around my shoulder.

He did take me home and fuck me after he'd gently spanked me, and I slept with his arms wrapped around me, feeling content and home. After we arrived, and before he did, he told me to call my parents and tell them that I got the job, but it meant that I would have to stay in town a lot. Mom asked a lot of silly questions which I answered, and that was that. She didn't seem upset or concerned that I would only be coming home about once a month.

You'd think a Mother would be more concerned about her little boy, but I guess I grew up. That was three months ago, and now I have budding little titties that just start to fill the little bra he brought. The rest of me is painted, powdered, perfumed, dressed, and in every way, I am a swishy, sissy queer boy, and my one purpose in life is to keep my Master, 'Daddy' happy anyway he wants. As I said, there are girls out there that seem to walk around with a sign around their neck that said 'Fuck Me!' I just didn't expect I'd be that one of those 'girls'.

THE END CHAPTER ONE