BE FOREWARNED. The following story contains sexually explicit material not suited for those who have not yet achieved the age of maturity. If you should fall into this category, do not read further. Consult the laws of your community to clarify if you are eligible to read adult sexual material. The theme is transsexual. If this type of reading matter offends you, read no further. Go do something else. Standard disclaimer applies. Any association with real people, places, events, or entities is purely coincidental.

 

How It All Started               by: Virginia Kane            © 2001 All rights reserved.

 

Chapter One.

I was studying for a quiz when my roommate entered our dorm room. I greeted him nonchalantly as usual, which he returned with a grunt. I initially ignored his caustic reply, thinking he got a bad grade on a report, or worse yet: an exam.

His curtness persisted "You’re in a fine mood." I said. "Get shot down again?"

"Yeah, I did. I wasted weeks on Ann Flynn. Today, she told me she has a steady boyfriend back home and isn’t interested in me. No wonder no other guys ever got to first base with her. Joe, I’m hurting. You may be able to plod all the way through college without ever scoring, but me; I need female attention to survive the grind. Don’t you ever get horny?"

"Sure I do. However, spending time and money, getting nowhere by chasing girls who only use guys to bolster their egos and maintain social status isn’t my idea of fostering a relationship. Why waste time with flings with so much work facing us? It isn’t worth the effort. In a few years, we’ll graduate and be able to direct our attention to women who will be appreciate being pursued." Tom’s continual griping about bad luck with girls annoyed me. I took a deep breath and decided to tell him how I resolved my own lack of success at dating. I hope he wouldn’t get the wrong impression by my being candid about masturbating.

"Many coeds only date guys here in school only for amusement. Not too many consider their fellow students serious suitors. So, stop kidding yourself. If you must, take the matter into hand. Stop moping around frustrated all the time."

"Is that what you do? Whack off, like a high school kid? I always feel guilty doing that. I need feminine stimulus to get aroused. Wanking only makes me hornier."

"Then, stop griping and go to a local beer joint to find a girl who is out for having casual sex. Of course, you take a big chance bedding loose women. Meanwhile, if you really need female incentive and don’t want to risk getting a social disease, there is a safer alternative. Buy yourself a frilly pair of panties from one of many boutiques in the mall so good old ‘Madam Palm’ and her five eager daughters can show you a good hard time. It works for me."

"You’re kidding! Does masturbating really feel any better with using some silk?"

"Heck! If all you want to do is get your hand into someone’s panties, buy a pair. You’d be surprised how good it feels to wrap layers of silk onto the old bone to get off. Don’t take my word for it. Leastwise, you won’t waste time and money by wining and dining some girl, hoping to get a measly goodnight kiss at the end of a date. It’s a lot quicker and far more satisfying than walking around with blue balls and a sour attitude for weeks on end, like you’ve been doing. Try it out!

Now listen. I have a rough quiz tomorrow, so either take your problem elsewhere or take my advice and give the notion some thought. I need to study."

 

"C’mon, Joe You must be kidding! You’re putting me on, aren’t you?"

"What do I have to do? Prove it to you?" I reached down into the bottom drawer of my dresser and pulled out clean pair of silky black panties with lots of ruffles.

"What does this look like to you, a jock strap?" I tossed the panties to Tom.

"You wear these things?"

"No, you dolt! I only wrap it around my hand and imagine that a girl is helping me to relieve tension, like you wish they’d do for you. With these, I don’t ever have to worry about some girl yelling "rape", just because I didn’t want to become a frustrated lunatic like you. Wise up! Feeling guilty about flapping the old radish is senseless. It’s wiser to resort to self-indulgence than to take needless chances. I only bother to lend my free advice about panties because you mope around like a sick puppy and it shows. If you don’t want my advice, suit yourself. Continue wasting your time on girls who aren’t interested in helping assuage your libido."

"Thanks, but no thanks! I can see myself in a public store asking a total stranger to point out the ladies’ underwear department. I’d feel like crawling under a rock."

"Give me a break! They don’t know you from Adam, and they could care less. Do you seriously think only the girls buy panties like these?

Most stuff like this is sold to men who give them to women as hints to act sexier for them. I’ll bet that more men buy frilly things like these than girls do."

"You still won’t catch me out shopping for them. You don’t have the guts, either."

 

"Well I’ve shopped in stores for them and I have to admit, it can be embarrassing. I bought that particular pair through a mail-order catalog. It takes nerve of steel to check out frilly panties with ruffles like these at a retail store. That’s what you can do Tom: use a catalog, since you’re too chicken to go to a store."

"Yeah, that’s what I thought. You expect me to make a complete ass of myself in public, jerk. I’ll bet some hot chick gave you these panties as a trophy, and now you’re using them to set me up. You expect me to fall for it and go into a store to buy panties while you watch from a distance, laughing your ass off!"

I buried my head in my hands. "Somebody, help me!" Tom was either dense or he was naïve, or he was baiting me into doing his shopping for him. Either way, he wasn’t going to leave me alone so I could study. I decided to call his bluff.

 

"Look, Tom. I have to study tonight. Tell you what I’ll do. Tomorrow, after classes, I’ll have some free time. I’ll go to the mall and buy a pair for you and another pair for myself, just to show you that there’s little to fear by going into a retail store to buy girls’ panties. How does that sound? Fair enough? I can’t guarantee that I’ll find a pair as nice as these, but I’ll get you what I can. Are you satisfied now? My finances, at this point, can’t allow charity, so you’ll pay for both pair. Is it a deal?"

Tom turned around and left me be. I suppose he knew that he was getting on my nerves. We both spent the remainder of the evening studying. He didn’t bring up the subject again until we were both in our beds, trying to get some sleep.

"Joe."

"Yeah, Tom?"

"You were serious, right?"

"About buying you the panties?"

"Yeah. --- Okay."

"Okay, what?"

"I’ll give your solution a try. Get me a pair tomorrow."

"Sure, Tom. No problem." What a buddy won’t do for a friend. I thought.

 

 

Chapter Two

After class, I went straight to the closest mall. Luckily, one of the boutiques had a big sale going. Three pair for ten dollars, all in a variety of pastel colors. I bought three pairs for Tom and three more pairs for myself. He could have his pick of any three. He didn’t need to know that the colors didn’t mean much in the dark.

"Why’d you buy so many?"

"I didn’t know your favorite color. I’ve paid as much for the one pair I showed you for what three of these cost me. They were on sale. Pick any three pair you like."

"I only said I would try your idea, once. What happens if someone discovers that I keep panties hidden in my dresser? I don’t want them. I only need one lousy pair. You keep the other five. Add them to your collection."

"Whoa! We made a deal. You agreed. One good pair is worth ten bucks."

"You spent twenty fricking dollars. I expected they’d cost much less. What the hell! Men’s briefs or boxers are much bigger and cheaper. It’s a rip-off."

"Where do you do your shopping, in the Salvation Army thrift shop? These are quality goods. I was lucky to find such nice ones on sale. Look, they even have lace around the edges. Think about how nice they’ll feel when you use them."

"I changed my mind. I don’t think I will use them. You keep them all."

"What do you expect I do with so many? I won’t get to use them all between now and the end of the term. I plan to toss mine out, when I go home for the summer, Tom. I won’t take a chance that my mom will find them among my other clothes. You might as well take the three pair I bought for you. A deal’s a deal."

"Well, I suppose. I’ll take the white and the blue pair. You keep the rest. I’ll give you ten bucks. You didn’t have to buy a half-dozen. Three pair would have been plenty. You’ll get twice as much fun as me for the same price. You said you like getting off by using them. I’m not even sure that I will. Look, I wasn’t aware that this was going to cost twenty dollars. I’m short of cash this month too, Joe. Look at it from my side. Schmoozing Ann Flynn set me back plenty already."

I picked up the remaining four pair, stuffed them into the bottom drawer with my others, and left the room without responding. I hoped Tom would take advantage of my absence to use one pair; then reconsider paying me the other ten bucks.

I spent the evening sitting around at the local Burrito House, mindlessly drinking a bottomless cola to permit Tom sufficient time to try my advice to whack away his obvious frustrations. In my case, the benefit of a pair of lacy panties was all I ever needed. Seeing as how Tom didn’t seem thrilled about using girls’ panties to whack off, I felt it best to give him the entire evening to work up to it.

When I arrived at our dorm room, Tom was already in bed. I headed straight out for the community john on our floor to drain my overtaxed kidneys. When I got back, a powder blue pair of panties was neatly folded on top of my bed. I picked them up and stashed them away. I’m not stupid. I didn’t need to be told that using the incentive of a pair of panties didn’t work for Tom. Oh, well.

Neither of us broached the subject of panties again. Tom was unusually quiet for the next few weeks. Then, one day, I had the urge. The new blue pair that he had placed back on my bed would be perfect. However, when I went to retrieve them out of my bottom drawer, they were gone. I smiled, assuming that Tom decided to give my masturbatory technique a second chance. I used a pink pair, instead.

When Tom returned from his regularly scheduled workout at the gym, I didn’t say anything other than a casual "Hi". He merely dropped a ten-dollar bill on my bunk and went over to his own desk to study. I smiled, assuming that he overcame his reluctance to use panties. His previous rudeness toward me diminished too. I shifted my attention back to my studies and didn’t give it any more thought.

 

A week later, he asked me for another pair of his panties, the ones that I didn’t let him pick out that night I returned from the mall. "There’s only three pair to choose from now, Tom." We both broke out in wild laughter. It was obvious to him why.

"I told you it would work as well for you as it does for me." I said.

"Oh yeah? Well, you were wrong, Joe, but I thought of something that might work better. You should give wearing panties a try. I put on the blue pair one morning and got stiff as a poker walking around the campus in them as the day wore on. By the time I got out of my last class, I had to rush back here before you’d burst into the room to catch me. All I thought of was how my member was surrounded by soft silk all day, just like a girl’s privates."

"No kidding! Maybe I will try that. Trouble is: what do you do at the gym? You can’t change and expose those underwear there. Someone will catch you."

"That’s exactly what makes it so exciting. No one knows. I feel like I’m getting away with something ultra kinky in broad daylight. You ought to try that, too."

"You wore panties into the locker room at the gym and dropped your pants in full view of the other guys that were there? That took some balls, my man!"

"Not at all. All I had to do is remember to pull down the panties along with my sweat pants. No one was the wiser. It was like pulling a fast one on the guys. They’d shit if they knew what kind of skivvies I had on under my pants!"

"You’re joking!"

"Check it out!" Tom dropped his pants and, sure enough, he had on the pair of my expensive panties that I had first shown him from my bottom dresser drawer.

My first thought was disgust. "Hey, those are mine!" The outline of his aroused state showed clearly through the lace panel in front. He stole my frilliest pair!

"You want ‘em. Come and take ‘em off of me."

"No way Tom. Thanks all the same. I guess they’re yours now. Enjoy."

Instead of pulling his sweats back up, Tom shook them off of his legs, went to the door and set the privacy catch, then turned around. My eyes were riveted to his groin. His growing arousal was evident, and he didn’t try to hide it. "I can’t believe how great they feel! I wish my paws were small like yours, Joe. Then, I could spend the night squeezing my wand, dreaming a cute girl was doing it for me."

He came over to where I was sitting and stood right in front of me. I sat frozen in my chair, not knowing how to gracefully avoid staring at the outline of his cock.

"I tried your advice and wrapped my big paw in the white pair you bought for me. It didn’t excite me much. My hands are too large. I’ll bet that your little hands feel just like a girl’s, Joe. That explains why wrapping them in panties work so well for you. You’re lucky. You’ve got soft, dainty little fingers, just like a girl’s.

Then, I got this crazy idea about massaging my rod without using my hands, if I put the panties on," he whispered. "It works. All I have to do is walk around. You ought to wear them, too. The texture brushes across the underside of my pole making it get hard as a rock. It’s almost enough to get me off, but not quite."

I still sat frozen to my chair. I knew where this was going, and I wasn’t interested in pulling tom’s pud for him. Yet, I didn’t bolt for the door like I should have done. I couldn’t. There was no doubt about it. His wearing silky panties made him hard as steel. I could clearly see the outline of his huge crown mere inches from my face. I couldn’t believe what was happening. His panty-clad manhood, not more than a foot away, fascinated me. I feared making the slightest move.

A defensive outburst on my part might be heard in the hall, causing someone to barge in to check things out. How could I explain Tom standing over me, wearing panties that he could say rightfully belonged to me! After all, they were mine!

Tom reached down and gently took my limp hand into his. He placed it over the rigid underside of his manhood, and surrounding my smaller hand in his own, he stroked up and down. "That’s more like it. Dainty little fingers are all I need to get worked up and get off. You started this Joe, so you might as well finish it." With his head tilted back, he continued to control my hand’s stroking movement.

I wished I could break away, but, like a moth to a flame, I was trapped by my own curiosity, perilously closing in. Sweat dripped from every pore in my face. I felt flushed, dizzy, as if on fire. I stroked him unconsciously, without his guidance. Instinctively, his hand fell away, leaving mine to continue caressing his firm staff.

His hand reached down to one of my nipples. It grew firm at his touch, in spite of my not intending to encourage him in any way. His fingers continued to twist my swollen nips. Without any conscious intention, I drew the black cloth down a bit as I stroked him in order to compare the size of his crown to my own, and so as not stain the delicate silky cloth, knowing a sudden eruption would ruin them. The thought of my wearing them afterwards gave my manhood a surge.

When his crown appeared, he put his hands on the back of my head and pulled me forward to his naked flesh. "This is really why you wanted to buy panties for me, isn’t it? So long as someone wears panties, anything goes. " My trembling lips brushed against his fiery flesh, and I swooned. The unexpected pungency of his raw meat under my nose overpowered me. He pulled the cloth down more to let my fingers feel the velvet texture of his pulsing meat directly, flesh on flesh. Without thinking, I wrapped my shaking fingers around it. With tears in my eyes, unable to resist the compelling attraction, my lips suddenly touched the tip again.

Lightening didn’t strike me dead! Instead, I realized that I had a lightening rod of my own. Being coerced to perform the unspeakable act on my trusted friend’s manhood had aroused me. He hummed softly as my lips moved slowly down to take more inside. I had no more than an inch in my mouth, when he began to steadily rock back and forth. "Just make believe it’s a nice big clit, and suck it."

Leaving one hand on the back of my head to keep me from retracting, he used his other to take my free hand and place it over his silk-encased testicles. They felt so soft and fragile, nestled in a cushion of thick hair, covered in thin, smooth silk. My one hand stroked his cock, and the other cradled his huge gonads. His hands returned to my chest and massaged my hard nipples again. I suddenly understood how girls must react when boyfriends insist on being orally satisfied.

He continued to rock, advancing slowly, so his raging monster gradually filled my mouth. Tears flowed down my cheeks from closed eyes out of utter shame. I let a man, my roommate trick me into becoming an almost willing cocksucker, without offering resistance. I let him plunge that big thing of his deep inside my mouth, not even trying to defend myself, as I should have done.

How did he instinctively know I wouldn’t resist? Why didn’t I? Was I so weak that I’m easily controllable? Was it obvious to Tom that I wouldn’t resist? How would I ever be able to look directly into his face again without feeling immense remorse for my cowardly depravity? Surely, a burly guy like Tom would never be forced into performing fellatio so easily. He must think of me as a real wimp.

With both hands firmly on my head to hold it motionless, he let his meat slowly descend all the way down into my throat and held it there. My nipples felt funny now that he stopped playing with them. I could still feel tingling sensations from his mauling. I couldn’t breathe! Panic struck! I tried to rise. He held me still. My gag reflex forced me to open my mouth wide for some air. When I unsuccessfully tried to push him away, he seemed to enjoy my resistance.

I hardly realized that my hand was no longer wrapped around his shaft. Instead my mouth was filled with all of it. I scavenged for some badly needed oxygen, in fear of blacking out. I pushed against the front of his hairy thighs. He pulled my head up with a quick jerk. Air rushed into my nose, filling my lungs. As quickly as his shaft left my throat, it returned again to continue ravaging me. His fingers stroked my ears and cheeks, as he urged me to take all of him back inside.

On the fifth or sixth repetition of plunging into my throat, Tom held my head down in place momentarily, then, slowly withdrew halfway, rapidly filling my mouth with hot fluid. I didn’t realize it happened at first. All I felt was a warm sensation that flooded my mouth. I had salivated so much, that the additional fluid was nearly unnoticed until my taste buds advised me that a previously unknown flavor was dominating them. Oh, what shame. I even let Tom come in my mouth!

I slid from the chair where I was sitting and collapsed into a heap, heaving sobs of denial, spitting it out, as if that would somehow undo the deed. . I wished that I could refuse to acknowledge what just happened, but I could not. I had sucked a cock like a cheap slut. Surely, Tom would now treat me like dirt for what I just did. How could I be so stupid, to let matters get so far out of control?

"Wow! Now, that’s what I call proper relief from my frustration! Whew! I sure owe you one for your advice. Whenever you’re ready, simply say the word."

I didn’t respond. What was I to say? Was I supposed to agree? Sure, a pair of willing lips, a vibrant tongue and an eager throat is the easiest way one person can help another to get off, but it’s supposed to be done by a girl, not by another guy. If I responded to his bold assertion, would I confirm reciprocation would make what I had done for him acceptable from my point of view?

I lay in a heap on the floor, like a sack of potatoes, not noticing Tom’s departure. I remained huddled there far into the night, steeped in a shame that completely overwhelmed me. I never did anything queer before in my life.

My mind wrestled with what was in store for the future and whether his attitude toward me would change. We still had to room together until the end of the term. I surely couldn’t claim innocence over what transpired. I initiated the issue in the first place. Didn’t I? He could easily claim I started it all by suggesting panties as a way to vent his unsatisfied libido. Question was: would he expect the same of me again? How would I respond, if he did? Then, would he ever stop using me?

 

 

Chapter Three

My fretful dream was filled with countless repetitions of what had occurred. Tom’s huge penis continually waved in my face as I envisioned several versions of him chasing me around the dorm room with him dressed only in frilly panties, seeking another blowjob, and me giving in and providing it to him. Finally, I dreamt that he kept his word and reciprocated. The feel of his lips surrounding my swollen shaft was so vivid that I erupted, soiling my frilly underwear. Frilly underwear? I felt as if I was now wearing the same pair he had worn while I serviced him, earlier. It was no dream! Tom’s head remained busy at my groin, while I slowly softened.

I faked continued asleep, not knowing what else to do. He moved up and knelt before my head, and slowly positioned me onto my side at the edge of my bunk, facing him. First, he rubbed his cock head over my lips, which I refused to open.

He put his fingers over my nostrils. I had to open my mouth to breathe. As soon as I did, he slipped in his cock and uncovered my nostrils. I did nothing. I just lied there and let him take me. As he rocked slowly in and out, he began to massage my nipples. Strangely, his hot fingers felt pleasant. I involuntarily moaned softly, as if I was first waking up. He increased the pressure, evoking additional nipple swelling. Then he squeezed them hard. My eyes flew open to see his broad smile in the half-light of our unlit dorm room. He knew that I was fully awake! If I wanted to hasten the culmination of this ravaging, I would have to cooperate. He squeezed my nipples again, harder.

I moved suddenly.

"Shhh. Don’t get up, Joanne. Just let me finish. It won’t take long. You don’t have to do a thing. I’ll get your motor running too if you’d like, so we’ll both enjoy equal satisfaction. You were right about one thing. Chasing after girls for a lousy kiss goodnight isn’t worth the bother, not with you around for this.

You were also right about salesclerks in retail stores. One at the department store didn’t bat an eyelash when I asked her to show me some nicer stuff a guy can get for his fiancée. She was eager to help. From the way she squirmed, I got the distinct impression she was lubricating and was jealous as hell, the old bat"

He then leaned way over, placed his massive knees on either side of my head, rolling me with him and swiftly went down on me. I could not escape his control. He straddled me, and continued. It was then that I realized that he was wearing nylon stockings, crotchless panties and a silken top. Tom wore what a young woman would be expected to wear to bed to seduce her lover.

He was heavy! My hands pushed up against his waist, discovering that he wore a tight restriction. By brail roaming, I tried to discern just what he was wearing, as he lifted his weight off of me. I couldn’t tell exactly, but the vertical boning felt like something that I had seen girls wear in porn movies. Tom had gone all out and was wearing kinky an ultra-feminine corsetry.

I hopelessly tried to disengage him, feeling abused and mistreated. He had no right to force me to accept this nightmarish onslaught. Resentfully, I used my teeth to let him know in no uncertain terms that his actions weren’t tolerable and that he had best cease immediately. Expecting him to stop, I squirmed and pushed hard as I could, to no avail. His response was to bite me as I had done.

My choice of action was not a wise move. I screamed in pain, and stopped biting him, before he broke skin on my member. Whatever else might happen, I wasn’t willing to play "Bobbit" for anyone. Tom was more muscular than I, and I wanted to survive intact. He also stopped biting down, and resumed sucking my member more devotedly. I tried to remain motionless, afraid that he’d repeat the painful use of his teeth if I resisted. He continued to hump my face, so I did what I felt would result in his stopping. He had already had two orgasms I was aware of, so it was unlikely to be a swift finish, but I tried hard to hasten it along. My advice was not turning out the way I planned. How could I know his reaction to my suggestion would prompt him to assault me?

I must admit, that the sensations provided improved gradually as we continued, once I accepted the fact that this escapade was unstoppable. There was no way to evade it, short of his total sexual exhaustion, so I chose to cooperate, to avert another round of provoking his ire.

Renewed revulsion for being such a wimp didn’t make it very desirable, but I was convinced that he would continue until he had an orgasm, so I did my best to accommodate him. It took a great deal of concentration, but, in the end, I let out a low moan followed by my own hefty release. I was panting hard when he finally got off and crawled behind me in the bunk, surrounding my body with his larger frame from behind, with his member implanted between my thighs.

I tried to get away, but he held me tightly against himself. "You suck cock just like a girl. Do you know that? I haven’t had such good sex since we started college two years ago," he whispered.

I was hardly in a position to say something I might regret later. I thought hard. I didn’t want a fight; I only wanted to tell him how used he made me feel.

"What happened isn’t what I had in mind when I suggested that you use panties, Tom. Let’s go somewhere to talk this out. I feel outrageously molested and degraded. My parents raised me to be aware of some guys’ sexual preferences, especially the unconventional, and to not participate in anything merely for the pleasure or to accommodate a friend. I resent you taking advantage of me.

I never had in a homosexual inclination in my life. You incorrectly assumed that my use of panties was meant to advise you that I’m gay, which I definitely am not. It’s my fault. I’m sorry if you misunderstood my motive. You took advantage of me against my will, not once, but twice now. Sure, you’re much stronger and can pound lumps on me whenever you’d feel like it. I know that I can’t really prevent it. That’s part of being smaller. But we can’t continue to share a dorm room if you think I’ll let you use me for your sex toy. I won’t. I can’t."

"Are you trying to say you weren’t luring me into seducing you? The way you swung those ruffled panties around before you tossed them at me sure seemed swishy! I was positive you were leading me on, because that’s precisely how someone introduced me to mutual masturbation and gay sex, years ago.

An older guy in the ‘hood’ said he’d teach me how to pitch woo to girls. When we got to his house, he tossed a pair of panties to me and told me to put them on. Said they were his sister’s. I was young, naive and curious and wasn’t anxious to get my head bashed, so I did as I was told. He then taught me the finer aspects of mutual masturbation, which later led to mutual oral sex, Joe.

It was common practice where I grew up. Don’t tell me you learned about sex from hygiene classes in high school. In my neighborhood, we learned about oral sex from older guys. Some of us met in small groups after school at someone’s house when no adults were around and experimented with things that we learned with one another. Didn’t you?"

"Certainly not! What kind of neighborhood did you live in?"

"An average one, I guess. That’s how everyone there learned about sex: from other guys. We’d whisper about girls, but never forced sex on them because we afraid to. A girl’s brother might break our arms and legs. It happened once. A neighbor’s sister got raped, and the culprit did hard time for it, once he got out of the hospital. You didn’t mess around like that where I come from.

 

That’s what makes college girls great prospects. They don’t have family around to watch over them. They’re out on their own. If they want sex, the snap of a finger will provide many volunteers. Let’s face it. You know there are girls here that are easy, none I know personally, but they’re here if you look hard enough."

"So, you were only after sex with Amy Flynn, not seeing her because you were fond of her. It’s no wonder she brushed you off, Tom. She figured you out. She doesn’t have a boyfriend back home. She comes from my hometown. I know her whole family. You were barking up the wrong tree. She isn’t the sort that would be willing to have casual sex for fun. She’s a right decent girl.

I know the rules for guys are different. No one pays notice if guys are sexually promiscuous. That’s part of life. But, did it make you feel good knowing that you used me for sex against my will? I was afraid you might become violent, if I didn’t let you. How could you have thought I was interested in what happened."

 

"You didn’t seem unwilling to me, Joe. When I first dropped my pants, your eyes locked in on my schwantz, and you couldn’t pry them away for a second. Admit it. Seeing me in a pair of panties made you drool. Had you pulled your hand away when I first placed it on my rod, I might have thought otherwise, but you wanted to suck it from the moment you saw the big bulge wearing your panties made."

I blushed profusely and he took notice. Tom’s recollection wasn’t very far from the truth. "I was shocked speechless. I never saw a guy wearing panties before."

"Bullshit! You were the one who introduced the use of panties into our friendship. Don’t tell me that you never looked at yourself in a mirror while sporting your own ‘woodie’. Your suggestion to use panties didn’t materialize out of thin air. Which raises another issue. How did you first discover masturbation and using panties to do it in the first place? Don’t give me that old malarkey about finding a pair of your sister’s in the hamper. Some buddy of yours taught you how to wank-off back when you were still shooting blanks, just like someone taught me!"

By this time we were both up and out of bed, facing each other. Tom’s ridiculous attire slowly became apparent, once my eyes became adjusted to the darkness. I had to laugh. "You look like a refugee from a porn flick."

He looked down, sheepishly, then back at me, red-faced. "I suppose that I do." He stood up and did a pirouette. "What do you think? Am I a Betty Boop look-alike?" He assumed a pose mimicking the cartoon character, realizing that the outfit he was wearing was totally asinine on his hirsute frame.

"Don’t quit your day job." We both had to stifle our laughter so adjacent neighbors wouldn’t start to pound on the walls. He really did look silly in a corset that looked as if it was cutting him in half. "How can you mange wearing that thing. Looks as if it will explode if you bend over." That caused another round of guffaws.

"Cut it out. It hurts to laugh." That sent us into an all-out tirade that neither could hold in. Sure enough, someone’s shoe started hitting a wall. We swiftly tossed on sweats, socks and gym shoes and left before we had the entire dorm up in arms.

We found an all-night eatery on the outskirts of town, near the freeway. We’d use it to study at times, when the rest of the campus was frolicking and we needed to cram because we got behind in our studies. If we had our own apartment, off the campus, instead of using public housing, we wouldn’t need to escape the ire of our neighbors. We were afraid that others who heard us laughing might barge in.

By the time we got there, we both settled down, but the trip was a series of gags that had us in stitches. My anger and the memory of his manhood lodged deep in my throat had vanished. I accepted his lame explanation that he misunderstood my interest in his raging hormones. I believed Tom was too good of a friend to have intentionally taken advantage of my small size, weakness and vulnerability. Rather, he inadvertently thought my initial advice was an intentional homosexual overture. One of us was way off base. It must have been me.

We took a booth far away from the counter, where other patrons were unlikely to overhear our conversation. We needed to talk this out in absolute privacy.

 

"I’m truly sorry that I misread your motives, Joe. I think you led a very sheltered childhood. I swear. I honestly thought you were coming on to me. You should have seen the look on your face when you tossed me the panties you’re now wearing. You had pure lust written all over it. After the nearly two years of living together, I should have known you better. I’m really sorry."

Tom paused for quite a while. He was formulating what to say next. I wasn’t eager to help. He knew that I expected an apology. I merely nodded to accept it. There was no way that I was going to admit my being at fault to him.

"Well, I can’t honestly say I’m totally sorry about what happened, Joe. I’m not one to be content with whipping the wand like I did when I was a teenager. In a way, using panties did enable me to vent my frustration, after all. Getting you involved might have been a mistake, but it can’t be undone. Why didn’t you stop me at the beginning? I’d have backed off at the first sign of your reluctance."

"I dunno, Tom. I can’t explain it. I felt like I was frozen in a trance, totally unable to resist. Part of me was afraid you’d become violent and do it anyhow, and part of me wouldn’t let me tell you to stop. I was drawn to what happened like a deer caught in a set of headlights. Seeing you in panties was --- was --- exciting!"

"Likewise. I felt that way too. What I’m wearing under these sweats still has me aroused. This damn corset set me back well over a hundred dollars, and I didn’t even want it. That woman in the store sweet-talked me into getting it, telling me how fascinating my girlfriend would look in it. I figured to get you to wear it. When I got back to the dorm, I found you thrashing on your bunk deep in frustration. It was all I could do to put panties on you, so I decided to put the thing on myself, do your laundry first, and then have you wear it for a second round.

I wrongfully assumed you were equally hot to trot, and was right until you bit me. Then, I realized that I screwed up and didn’t know where to go from there, so I bit you back, but nowhere near as hard as you bit me. It hurt like hell! You have to believe me, Joe. For some reason I figured you all wrong, so help me."

"Keep your voice down, Tom. The waitress is looking over this way and must think we’re going to start fighting. I have to admit that you had me scared out of my wits, but what should I have done? What would you have done in my place?

Does it still hurt, Tom?"

"Not now, but at the time, it did. I first thought you were into pain, and I’m not, so the only way to let you know I wasn’t was to bite you back. You then stopped." Tom paused. "You know, we must be more alike than we realize. Think about what we’re quietly discussing like the evening news. Here we are, sitting in a snack shop talking about how sorry we are that we ----"

"I know. It’s crazy. Consider this. Up until recently, I was open-minded about sex, but chose to remain a virgin, saving sex for a wife someday, you schmuck. Think about how I feel about what you forced me to do for you. How would you feel?"

"I know how it feels. It happened to me, too. Remember?"

"Oh, right. You mentioned that that’s how you already knew of men using panties to get off, but you were initiated differently and were inquisitive enough to try it. You said many guys in your neighborhood did, too. Guys don’t where I live."

"It wasn’t really differently Joe, only it happened earlier in life. I suppose I felt like a deer caught in a pair of headlights, too, back then. In my case, it just happened to me when I was younger, that’s all. You’ll survive. Still a virgin, huh?"

"Yes, not that it matters much anymore, thanks to you."

"Could have been worse. I heard stories about guys being doped and gang raped after innocently joining the wrong kind of club, one that required a rough initiation. Think about how it must feel to wake up with your virgin bottom on fire from being buggered by a bunch of randy men all night long. At least you lost your virginity with someone who was considerate enough not to hurt you in the process."

"I’m sorry, Tom, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say what you did was considerate!"

"Okay, okay. I said that I was sorry. What’s done is done. Besides, I did my best to give as well as I got. Don’t tell me you didn’t like feeling my lips lapping away on your equipment. Seems that I can remember your geyser spewing a fairly heavy stream of man-juice from getting a blowjob from me. Can you deny that?"

"Of course not. Once you got on top of me, I was helpless to defend myself. What was I supposed to do? I figured that I had to let you have your way."

"That was the second time. What about the first time that I blew you, when you faked being asleep? I suppose you couldn’t fight me off then, too, huh? Did you know that you snore when you sleep? I knew you were wide-awake. That’s why I expected reciprocation afterwards. I also know that a guy often needs some time to recover from an orgasm before continuing, so I had to urge you to not stop and blow me by holding your nostrils closed. It wasn’t difficult to persuade you, so you can’t say it was as terrible as you now claim. If you really didn’t want to blow me, you could have easily pushed me away. I’d have taken the hint.

Once I put on the kinky stuff I’m wearing under this jogging outfit, I got very eager to show my appreciation for your advice. You’d be surprised how sexy this stuff makes a person feel. I could go for another round without any trouble, and I’d be willing to do all the work. How’s that? I’ll bet that you’d feel just as horny if you wear something like I have on. If it gives you any consolation Joe, I never had oral sex as good as what I had with you tonight, giving or getting."

"No thanks, Tom. I made that sufficiently clear earlier, didn’t I? Let’s drop it."

"Not until you agree to take my advice and try wearing some sexy lingerie. Listen, I followed your advice, didn’t I? Why not do likewise? Try it. If it doesn’t inspire you, I’ll drop the subject once and for all. However, I doubt that receiving oral sex, while you’re wearing lingerie, will appall you. You won’t be sorry, either."

"Oh, why not, if you’re that insistent on proving a point. I’m open-minded. Since I’ve already lost my virginity, so to speak, another bout won’t matter. From what you say, it has to be worth trying. I doubt that I’ll get horny, like you did, but the only way to stop you from badgering me is to give it a shot. Maybe then you’ll realize that I’m not that interested in engaging in that kind of sex."

"That’s the spirit. I’ll show you the store I bought these in tomorrow after class. I’ll even go there with you. The woman there was most helpful. I wonder if she knew that I wasn’t buying this stuff for a girlfriend? When she sees us arriving together, she’ll figure out that I wasn’t for sure."

"What does it matter? All she wanted to do was make a sale."

"I got the impression she knew I wasn’t after shopping for a gift to give to a girl at all, but wanted to wear some sexy stuff myself, but wasn’t saying so."

"I doubt it. What makes you think so?"

"Well, when I first walked into the store, kind of sheepishly, she encouraged me to come to the rear of the store and started taking my measurements, and didn’t stop, even after I said I was interested in buying something risqué as a gift for a girl. She merely asked me if the girl in mind was similar in height and size to me. I got the distinct impression that she assumed I was there to get something for myself. She proceeded to show me the sexiest stuff I ever saw."

"All expensive stuff, I presume."

"No, not all of it. She started showing me some elegant panties first; similar to the ones that you’re wearing now. I guess she wanted to gauge my reactions. When I asked to see more, she showed me pictures of some slips, some sleepwear and then, a corset, which I wanted at first sight. Then, she asked if my "girlfriend" ever had tried on a Victorian corset, one that could maximize her girlish figure.

She threw me for a moment when she said it would have to be fitted. Then she said that she would try one on me for size. If my girlfriend wore the same size, it would fit her, too. I know girls’ proportions are different from men’s, so she must have known I was shopping for myself. Once she laced me into it, and it pulled my waist in and pushed my chest out, I could swear I had the figure of a girl, and it gave me butterflies inside. I couldn’t say no. I bought it on the spot."

"You, with all that ugly hair all over your body, look like a girl? Never in a million years! Wait a minute! Did you somehow think I would be more receptive to you if you tried to look more feminine? I could have saved you the money Tom, besides the time and trouble. There is no way that you could get me interested in you by your wearing sexy unmentionables. What in the world gave you that idea?"

"The way you froze when you saw me the first time, wearing your sexy panties with the ruffles, the same pair that you have on, now. You knew darn well what was hidden inside of those panties at the time, and you couldn’t take you eyes off of the bulge. Convince me it didn’t look appealing to you. You will even look more appealing in a festooned corset of your very own. Think of the thrill you’ll get from wearing a corset if jacking off in a fistful of silk panties lights your fire."

"That’s way too risky. What if someone else in our building should walk in?"

"Oh, I almost forgot about something important I’ve been meaning to tell you. I heard of a guy who is graduating and moving out west to get a master’s degree in Geology. He bought a motor to use for fieldwork this summer. His apartment is available now, before the end of the term. He assured me we could move right in and not have to shuttle stuff home for the summer and back again in the fall. All we need do is pay his half the remaining rent until fall. The apartment is furnished and reasonably priced. His former roommate dropped out of school, already paid his half and the other already moved his gear into his motor home. We can have the place cheap. You have to see it!

The only reason that we remained in the dorm building this year was that Algebra class I failed and had to make up last fall. I was so relieved when you agreed to bunk with me another year. I was planning to ask if you want to stay with me next year, too. At first, I thought getting involved with you would cinch it, but I guess what happened backfired. For the record, I’m bi, Joe, not gay. If you’d prefer not to room with me come this fall, we’ll both have to find someone else. I’m sorry if I messed up, but I still think you should give my suggestion about corsets a try."

"You have it all figured out, don’t you?"

"Forget it. I’m sorry. I had you pegged all wrong. I’ll find someone else."

"Tom, I was banking on rooming together in the fall. I can’t afford an apartment single-handed. I have to think it over. I don’t relish searching for someone new."

"Tell you what. Why don’t we just use the available apartment until the end of this term and not make any hasty decisions. We can always turn the landlord down in the fall if we find that we’d rather part company. What do you say?"

"I say we not make any hasty judgments in the middle of the night. I’m going to have a hard time getting up for class as it is. I’ll let you know after I’ve slept on it. I doubt that I’ll be thrilled by seeing you prance around an apartment dressed in female underwear, but, as you pointed out, until I grasp what your fascination is myself, I should hold off on passing judgment on you or criticizing any of your weird sexual notions. Needless to say, I wasn’t planning on rooming with a poof."

"Hey, look who’s talking! You started it with your frilly panties. I was content with chasing girls until you reintroduced me to feminine finery. I had almost forgotten how good it feels to have someone put a lip lock on my love muscle while it was adorned with dainty silk. Don’t play so innocent with me, because you’re not."

"Be quiet, Tom. The waitress heard that remark and is on her way here. Let’s boogie, before she throws the two of us out of here on our cans."

 

 

Chapter Four.

"Yes, ma’am. A good friend recommended your store. He said that you carry an excellent selection of fine lingerie. He hinted that you’d help me find something exotic for an elegant gift. He claims you stock them in all sizes."

"Please step to the rear of the store. I’m sure we’ll find something you’ll like."

She wasted no time in measuring my waist. "Something to control the tummy, and emphasize the bust, I presume. Step behind this curtain and remove your shirt. I have just the thing to mold your ‘girlfriend’. She’ll love the way it will lure many inches into all the right places. I assume she’s about the same size as you. Am I correct? May I use you for a trial fitting?"

"Okay. We share jogging outfits all the time, so we’re roughly the same size."

"I thought so. If what I show you fits well on you, think of how nice she’ll look in it. Oh, you have no hair on your chest. How nice. Do you shave or use a cream?"

"Oh, chest hair doesn’t run in our family on either side. Neither my dad, nor my mom’s brothers seem to have any. I never gave it much thought."

"Well, that’s convenient. You will be able to better appreciate how fine silk feels like your ‘girlfriend’ without interference from body hair. While I’m selecting some things I’m sure will look stunning, why don’t you rub this cocoa butter lotion onto your chest to soften the texture of your skin? When you are finished, slip this on. It’s called a chemise. What I have in mind will look much better if worn over it, I promise. We don’t want to soil the lining of the Basque."

"What’s a Basque?"

"I’ll show you in a minute." When she returned with a silken confection that would give a dead man a hard-on, I gulped. Instead of covering the bust, the area was cut out and underwired. She had it around me before I could say "no". The top of it was sheer, but from the waist on down, it was made of satin with a heavy lining. As she tugged and pulled it together in the rear, my waistline shrunk and forced some loose flesh upward and the rest of it down. Padding at the hips made my rump stand out in back like a dance hall girl’s in a western movie.

"I can hardly breathe."

"It will relax in a minute. Here, let me adjust the front somewhat." She reached below the under wiring and pulled flesh up into the area where breasts would stand out on a woman. When I looked down and leaned slightly forward, I had small breasts beneath the chemise like a pre-teen girl. "There. With some help, Mother Nature can be assisted in making the illusion more realistic. Have you considered using hormones to enhance your bust line, darling?"

"Hormones? No. I’ve never worn anything so feminine like this before. It feels too confining. Is it supposed to? I don’t think it’s supposed to feel so tight. I won’t be able to bend over or sit down while wearing it."

"In due time you will. Meanwhile, it will do wonders to improve your posture. Your friend who referred you here will love to see you like this. That’s more important."

She toyed with a nipple that was already hard and pointy. "This tells me that you like the way it fits you. You have a very strong feminine inclination, my dear. You should express it freely and often. Now, don’t be so shy. I truly admire men who are capable of getting in touch with their feminine side. Darling, you are quite a fortunate lad. Few men can appear feminine whenever they want to. Don’t waste your intrinsic talent. Optimize it. Enjoy what life offers to the fullest."

"Do you think so? I mean, do you think I can look genuinely feminine?"

"You do now! With a bit of my help, such as showing you ways to wear your hair longer and advising you how to take the proper vitamins and essential herbs, by getting lessons in deportment and the use of make-up, you soon could parade down any street in broad daylight without being detected by using the right frills."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Why to please your friend, the one who sent you here. I’ll bet that he’ll be willing to pay for all of your niceties, once he sees you wearing this Basque. Trust me.

Certain men get all worked up over an adept female impersonator. You can soon have him eating out of your hand or wherever else you’re inclined to demand, if you agree to accept my skillful guidance. Men love to escort visions of loveliness out on the town. It gives them a chance to gloat; like ‘Look what I have, guys! Eat your hearts out!’ In your case, I won’t have any difficulty in teaching you how to look very lovely for him. You’ll soon have him groveling at your feet."

Hmm. To place Tom at my mercy would make fitting reprisal for his presumptive, rudeness. Maybe my ability to look feminine would tilt the scale of justice in my favor. Her confidence in me was intriguing. I could feel a chill run down my spine. "You seem sure that I could learn to make Tom squirm. Are you sure you could make me look real enough to others, too? With my rotten luck, I’d b sure to get arrested for causing a disturbance in public, by wearing women’s clothes."

"Now, what makes you think I’d ever let that happen? Many of my ‘girls’ pass in public without any problems. You’ll do no different, once you practice comporting yourself femininely. Until then, I’ll give you a list of places you can frequent that won’t mind seeing you in dresses so that you can practice and gradually lose the jitters. Even if you lose interest in it someday, think of the fun and excitement of having men drool over you, until then. I’m sure all the other ‘girls’ will be envious when they see you." She left me standing in the cubicle, gazing into the mirrors on its three walls, assessing my figure, and conjuring a plan.

The almost silent swish of the doorway curtain moving swiftly as she suddenly returned caused me to cower in fear, using my hands and a raised leg to cover my exposed condition. What would happen if someone else had looked in?

"This dress will compliment your figure well. It will easily hide your obvious lack of pulchritude in back and hide any errant improper bulges. The skirt billows out at the waistline, accentuating your trimness. Many of my ‘special’ customers need more than tight lacing to achieve the demure waistline you have. You’re lucky"

She assisted me getting into the dress, explaining how to step into it gracefully without letting it touch the floor. "Of course, you’ll need to wear nylons along with something this elegant and a garter belt to keep them up. Or, if you prefer, I can attach fancy, matching garters to the hem of the Basque, instead.

"That’s quite alright. I think we’ve gone far enough. I don’t believe that I’ll be interested in being seen wearing dresses in public." As she zipped the back, I realized that she wasn’t about to stop until I knew how I would look fully dressed.

I had to admit, if I was wearing my hair differently, I could easily pass for a boyish girl. "Now don’t worry! With my expert help, no one will detect what you are. See how easy it is to be undetectable? Take a good look at yourself in the mirror. You look absolutely darling, without my guidance. Think of how well you will do, once I teach you how to mince properly and move gracefully."

"No, no. We have to stop. I’ve let you go too far. All I wanted to do is convince a friend of mine that it would be senseless for me to get a corset like his. This isn’t what I wanted to accomplish at all. I shouldn’t have come here. I’m putting you through a lot of effort to no avail. He challenged me to try on a corset like one he bought from you to see if it evoked similar reactions in me. It does, and it scares me. No dresses, please. I’ll take the corset, but nothing else."

"So, all you wanted to do is disprove what your wise friend expected to happen? Well, now that you know how nice wearing a fancy corset feels, why deny that you look marvelous wearing it under a dress, as well? With a dress over it, your image is complete. Think of how good you can look for your friend’s admiration if you also had some high-heeled shoes and a purse to match the dress."

No, no, no. You are only interested in making a sale. IF he sees me like this, he’ll want me to get dressed up this way for him more often. This dress is too great a temptation to put before him. I don’t want to encourage him. I’d rather stop."

"Be honest with me, young man. You really don’t want to stop, do you? Now that you know how lovely you can look, you will never stop. I must say. You are the most delightfully charming young man I ever helped acknowledge a suppressed need to look pretty. Don’t run off and hide from what you discovered. Deep down in your heart, you know that you’ll return for this dress. In fact, if you insist on not taking it now, I’ll hold it aside for you. You may pick it up when you are ready."

"That won’t be necessary. Please show me how to remove it without damaging it. I must be on my way. This is gone too far. I’m sorry to have put you to so much effort. Just wrap up the corset and the chemise. "

"As you wish. Don’t you want to wear your corset and chemise home?"

"Yes, no, please. I’d like to, but it might show. Can you put them into a plain bag? I live in a dorm building. I don’t want to be seen carrying a bag bearing the label of a boutique. What would the other guys think?"

 

 

Chapter Five.

"This is cool, Joe. Grabbing up this roomy apartment when we got the chance was a smart move. It beats the cramped dorm we stayed in by a mile. We don’t have to trip over each other at every turn anymore. Having separate bedrooms enables us to study when the other has company without being disturbed."

"Who did you have in mind, Tom? You haven’t courted any girls ever since that night you accosted me in my bed. Since then, all you want is me in my undies."

"Now, stop acting petulant. If it weren’t for our getting this apartment, you’d have never admitted your deep fascination with girl’s clothes. Think about it. Could you take the corset that you bought home with you on summer break? No way! You couldn’t risk having your mom find it. Having this pad enables you to walk around in your corset whenever you feel the urge. Gives me a thrill to see you wearing it, too. Why don’t you go put it on for me now? I’m in the mood again. "

"Already? But, it’s only Thursday. I just wore it for you on Monday, and you didn’t even wear yours for me at the time, as I recall. So, it’s your turn to be corseted."

"I don’t look anywhere near as good as you do when I wear mine. All the hair on my body shows, and I’m not into shaving it off, either, so don’t ask me again. If you put your corset on for me, I’ll feast on your clitty. How’s that."

That’s what he said on Monday but, instead, he had me do him again. For some reason, it’s difficult for me to think manly thoughts when I’m wearing my corset, and Tom knows it. He doesn’t have any trouble luring me down on my knees to satisfy him, once I put my sexy corset on. I slip into a feminine frame of mind and imagine myself being a real girl, receptive to doing what easy girls do to please their men. I have to admit: giving Tom head has been more exciting ever since we moved into the apartment. For some reason, I’ve stopped being reluctant.

Lately he’s shown less interest in wearing frocks, himself. He rightfully claims that he looks horrid in ‘drag’, and not at all feminine. I must agree, but seeing him with a pair of panties bulging out is enough to entice me to do his bidding, willingly.

Since the day we moved out of the dorm building and into the apartment, Tom only reciprocated one time. It felt grand, but only because he frequently stroked deep into the rear crease of my panties with his extended tongue while doing me. At the time, I tried to imagine what having a vagina must be like, having him use his tongue as a probe to penetrate it. The way it felt to have him wiggle his taster in between my nether cheeks made me erupt before I realized it.

I recall the day I bought a corset of my own. I stopped pleading innocence from then on. From the moment I arrived at the dorm, I wanted Tom to see me wear it and treat me as if I were a girl. He did, by kissing me and telling me how pretty he imagined I would look in it, and could hardly wait to see me in it. That was a new twist. He was acting like my guardian, my protector. He told me he’d leave for a while, so I could prepare to show him everything I bought at the boutique.

When he returned, I orally serviced him while on my knees with him in a chair, massaging my nipples with his hands and stroking my hard on with a bare ankle. I ejaculated long before he did; surprised that all that was necessary to evoke my orgasm was ministrations from his hairy foreleg. Wearing my corset, I behaved more like a demure girl than I was willing to admit to him or even to myself.

Since that day, he begged me to wear corsets beneath my clothes whenever it was possible, to help train my figure. He soon bought me a second corset and let me wear his often, too. He only wore his once after that, when I insisted upon it. He continued to claim reluctance because I looked so much better in one.

I began to agree. Tom looked silly wearing a corset, whereas I didn’t and enjoyed its firm embrace. Whenever we were alone in our apartment together, he’d often creep up behind me and stroke my backside whispering nasty things, saying how plump my rump felt, and it would feel nicer if I added more padding to my tush. I loved the attention he was paying me and slowly admitted to myself that I was willingly and deeply getting involved in a homosexual relationship with Tom.

He pampered me, too. He moved our heavy items from the dorm, and arranged the apartment’s provided furniture like I wanted it. He began to do more than half of the chores, so long as I agreed to cook and do the laundry. He’d have wrecked our delicate things if he did the laundry, and his idea of cooking was to boil some water and drop a package of frozen food into it. He’s such an oaf.

As the term’s end drew near, we had less homework assigned and wisely used the extra time to cram for our finals. We noticed that with separate bedrooms, we were easily able to accomplish more in uninterrupted privacy. Fewer distractions broke our trains of thought and the two of us respected our "space".

It also afforded us more leisure time, which we chose to spend in the apartment together, relaxing in air-conditioned comfort. The dorm room didn’t provide that luxury. Daily, I’d prepare the meals, so we did less cavorting around campus in search of different restaurants for variety. It was cheaper, healthier, tastier, and gave us more time alone together; time for me to appraise what a good-looking stud Tom was. Unlike me, he was tall, dark and swayed when he walked. That made him appear to be "cool". We decided not to rush home for summer.

Where Tom picked up the used television set, I don’t know. It was a small one, but it was equipped with a built-in VCR and came with boxes full of homemade videos. Tom said the owner feared his parents might discover what the pirated videos were about so he asked Tom to store it for him. His loss was our gain.

The very first tape Tom shoved into the slot showed many guys that were taking a shower together. A recorder must have been hidden in the health club’s locker room before the men got there. Apparently, none of the muscular guys knew that they were being taped. The hollow tones of the sound track, muted by the hissing spray from showers made it difficult to hear what was being said.

One guy grabbed a short, lanky guy by the hair and forced him to his knees. With one hand, he held the guy’s nostrils. I looked at Tom guiltily. I knew how that felt from our initial night in bed together. When the smaller guy finally parted his lips, the big one slipped him the meat. The shot zoomed in on the hot action and I had to adjust my panties. It didn’t dawn on me at the time that zooming in a camera required an operator, until the big guy looked up and smiled at the camera.

Another guy pulled the lanky one away from the big one’s tool and stuffed his into the open maw. Water flowing freely over the three made the expressions on their faces less clear, but it was obvious that the ones in control enjoyed the action.

The bigger guy grabbed one hand of the one on his knees and placed it over his iron-hard staff. Another body entered the scene. The second moved aside for the third and had the small guy pull on his rod with his other hand. You couldn’t see the faces of the big guys at this point, only the one on his knees. Their hairy, muscular bodies flexed in stark contrast to the small guy’s soft hairless skin.

I picked up the tape’s outer jacket from the end table and read the title. "Varsity Therapy After Practice." I imagined that the entire team would receive therapy before the tape would end. "Let’s see what else is in the box, Tom. I think I have a good idea of what the rest of this tape is all about."

"Sure." Tom got up and rummaged through the box. "Here’s one: Drama Class One-O-One." He switched tapes. As he sat down, his outstretched arm guided me to lean into the comfort of its hollow.

The opening scene showed a girl with wrists bound by rope. A close up disclosed that the girl was really a guy dressed in an anti-bellum gown. A soldier in a Union officer’s uniform yanked the top of the gown away and threatened to mar the fake girl with a red-hot poker.

With her bound wrists held across her face in mock horror, she shied away. "Do as I command, or I’ll brand your breasts with the letter ‘A’, you adulteress!"

"I’m innocent! Captain, please believe me! I had to let those men court me."

"A decent woman would rather die than be dishonored."

"I had to preserve my life somehow in order to bring word of the enemy’s plans. The eastern campaign depends on what I learned. Your army is in jeopardy. After the formal Ball at the mansion tomorrow, they plan to attack."

"You bitch! Since the enemy invaded this city, your assignment was only to spy on them, not give yourself freely to those randy men who have been away from their homes too long. How can I trust what you say? How do I know you didn’t like what they demanded of you and are setting a trap for our army?"

"Send an emissary from your own ranks with me to the ball tomorrow. Surely plans of the attack will be mentioned for him to hear with his own ears."

"Are you mad? Do you expect me to dispatch one of my trustworthy soldiers to be taken hostage by the enemy and tortured until he reveals weaknesses in our defenses? If he isn’t shot on sight, he’ll suffer cruelly at the hands of the enemy."

"Not if he does what I did and hoists them on their own petard."

"And, what might that be."

"Release my bonds, and I’ll explain."

As soon as the soldier cut her bonds, she removed the gown to reveal a corset and pantaloons that reached far below her knees. "This is no time for passion, woman. Explain the purpose of your ribald display!"

"Display this, you moron!" She reached into the folds of her pantaloons, withdrew a revolver, and a decent sized cock. "Take your pick. Suck on the one you think will save your hide. They both shoot with remarkable force. If you choose the right weapon, and survive the ravages of its hair trigger, I’ll explain how your emissary can pass undetected tomorrow. That is, if you haven’t figured it out yet."

 

The video was shorter, but after two more bouts of fake girls getting their laundry done by soldiers with guns held to their temples, I told Tom I was getting bored.

I have to admit; watching the fairer sex besting the braver sex was pleasant for a change. Since we had moved, I found myself acting more and more like the fairer sex and less and less like the man I was supposed to be. Tom inserted a third tape into the VCR without my asking and returned to the corner of the couch. This time he plopped down, and pulled me up on his lap and hugged me.

The girl appearing in this tape was all over her lover. She wore a corset similar to the one I wore, except hers had huge black bows on the garters, and her nylons were jet black, not taupe. "Wow, that outfit looks hot!"

Tom put his arms around me when I said that. "You like?"

"Hmm. I guess." Watching her adroitly paw her companion kept me distracted. In my mind, I could hear a distant voice: "Suck him, suck him, suck him, suck him."

I slipped from Tom’s lap and discovered that his fly was open. He was ready. "Close your eyes and suck him. Suck him. Suck him. Close your eyes and suck him. Suck him. Suck him." The refrain repeated over and over in my mind. Why would a melodious phrase like that pop up out of nowhere and repeat itself over and over again? On impulse, I wanted to do what the voice pleaded.

"Take it into your mouth now. Suck it. Suck it. Suck it. That will drive him crazy. Suck it. Suck it. Suck it. Suck it. Take it all. Suck it. Suck it. Suck it. Take control. Suck it. Suck it. Suck it. Keep your eyes closed. Suck it. Suck it. Suck it."

I felt sleepy, warm and sleepy. All I could hear was the whispers of the girl in the flick repeating her tempting pleas. "Take it all. Take it deep. Take it all. Do it. Do it. Do it. You love to suck cock. Take it. You love to suck cock. Take it all, now. Stop whatever you are doing, and suck his cock now. You love to suck cock."

I reached across Tom to set my bottle of beer down on the end table. Rotating, I sank to my knees in front of him and devoured his cock in one long, slow pull. It was hard in seconds and effortlessly slid into my throat.

"Suck him. Suck him. Suck it all down. Suck him. Suck him. Take it all inside and suck hard. Suck hard. Suck hard. Harder. Harder. Harder. Faster. Faster. Suck it. Suck it. Harder. Faster. Faster. Faster. Now! Now! Now! You’re in control. He’s yours now. Yours now. You are in control. You have him. He’s yours."

Just as he started coming, numbness overcame me. I held my eyes shut tightly as a wonderful flush spread out from his ejaculate as it entered into my throat, which gave me immeasurable pleasure as it quickly radiated through my body.

"Keep it up. Suck him. Suck him. Suck him. Wear him out. Suck him. Suck him. Suck him. You’re in control. Suck him. Suck him. Suck him."

I continued to lap on his softening cock until it revived. With the entire shaft deeply imbedded in my throat, I let my tongue lash out to drive him wild.

"Keep him hard. Suck him. Suck him. Suck him. As he ejaculated a second time, warmth and pleasure resumed, as if his sperm caused it. It started in back of my neck where his cock was pointing, and flooded my throat. My own rod was still as hard as a rock and I didn’t ejaculate. I didn’t want to. If I did, the warmth and the fulfilling sleepiness would end and it would be over. I didn’t want it to be over yet. I wanted more. "Keep sucking. Suck it. Suck it. Suck it. You’re in control. Suck it. Suck it. Suck it. Now, suck just the head. Suck it. Suck it. Suck it. The harder you suck, the better it will get. Suck it. Suck it. Suck it. Suck it. Take it all. He’s yours. He won’t have enough strength left for anyone else. He’s all yours. Slowly suck in the entire shaft again now. Suck it all. Suck it."

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!" I went over the top as his sperm shot down into me for the third time. I could feel massive release in the pulses of my own orgasm, but instead of the pulses stemming from my cock, they came from my throat. I had an orgasm inside of my throat. My pleasure waned but continued to radiate in a gentle rhythm long after Tom got soft and slipped out of my mouth.

"What was that all about, Tom?"

"I think there are subliminal messages on the tape."

"Subliminal? I could hear the girl in the video repeatedly telling me to service you orally, Tom. She told me to close my eyes and to concentrate. If the messages are subliminal, how did I continue to perceive them with my eyes closed?"

"Hidden in the sound track, I guess."

"They weren’t hidden. I could hear her. Did you hear her?"

Oh, she rambled on the whole time, telling one guy to suck off another, while she watched them. It was a hot scene, but you were much hotter. I would have done anything you wanted me to do if you had asked. The pleasure from your sucking radiated through my whole body, the whole time. It was as if your saliva made my cock grow harder and wonderfully erotic, much nicer than ever."

"Hmm. Did you feel kind of sleepy the whole time?"

"Yeah, I did. Did you too?"

"Yeah, me too. I think the tape hypnotized me somehow and freed my mind up to be more receptive to enjoying those fabulous orgasms you had. It must use the power of intense suggestion. What does the cover say about the tape?"

"It just says: "Advanced Submersion. Going down" That wasn’t the word I’d have used for it. You had me going crazy. I thought I was drowning in your love."

"I thought I was drowning in your sperm. You dumped three loads into me, and I still want more. I’m as horny as when we first started. Do you think you could go for another round? This time, I’ll take my sweet time to crank your motor is up to high speed. I need to experience the thunderous orgasm that seems to come out of the tip of your cock again."

I started to massage Tom’s cock with my small hand, while the tape rewound. He usually likes that. When the tape resumed playing, we watched it, waiting for the sound of her voice to begin repeating her instructions to me. Nothing happened. Not a word, other than the forced mews she emitted when her boyfriend sucked off another guy and followed her directions, doing as he was told. But it was not a captivating voice like the one I heard in the first playing. We quietly sat through much of the tape, waiting for the voice, but Tom remained soft the whole time.

"We must have missed some key instruction, or something."

"Did you do everything the same way as during the first viewing."

"I think so, except, I had a slug of beer just before she started telling me to suck you off. Oh yes, and then she told me to keep my eyes closed. Other than that, it seems, I did everything the same way. Yet, I don’t feel a compulsion to get down on my knees and suck you off like I did the first time. I still want to feel the great sensations that I felt when your sperm entered my throat, but I don’t feel inspired to do anything. The last time, I felt a driving need to satisfy you."

"Let’s try again from the beginning. Think hard. Was there anything else you did?"

"No, I just took a slug of beer, then closed my eyes. I started to feel very dreamy, in a funny sort of way, like one time someone spiked my drink at a frat party."

"Did you find out what the spike was?"

"No. It was nowhere near as powerful, anyway. This time I felt really motivated. I can still feel a tingling sensation from your sperm running down my throat. This is the first time I enjoyed you coming inside my mouth, Tom. You know that I hated the taste of spunk and always spat it out immediately afterwards. Well, this time, it wasn’t like that. Each pulse was better. I couldn’t suck enough of it. That’s why I still want more. No such luck, hey?"

"I don’t know. I might be able to, if we do everything in exactly the same way. Let me get you a fresh beer. What’s left of yours is as warm as…"

"You needn’t get vulgar, Tom." I broke in. While he fetched my beer, like a good boy, I went to the powder room to freshen my makeup. Marge’s weekly lessons in how to be a woman included the proper use of cosmetics, which I’ve grown to love. Once she showed me that I could pass easily, with subtle make-up to bring out a glow in my cheeks, and sparkle in my eyes, I was hooked. I wanted to know how to do it by myself. After all, I couldn’t impose on her time after time. After one week of coaching, I had confidence in doing it on my own, but Marge assured me that I still had a lot to learn, so I continue to see her.

Two hours, every Monday afternoon for the past five weeks, I’ve gone to Marge’s store for my beauty lessons. At first, it was to please Tom. He said he wished he could do what I could. Fat chance. He could never look as good as I can. I can walk down the streets at any time in ‘drag’, and no one would guess I’m a man. Leastwise, that’s what the other "girls" at the local swish bars said.

We started to pass some time away in the evenings at bars that cottoned to guys who dress like girls. Not many looked good, some were fair, but the majority of them are just awful. By the time Tom bought me a second corset to let my first one "rest", the boys were sure I was the best looking crossdresser they’d seen in ages. Lots of them wanted me to go out on dates with them. That was a scary notion. Tom told them I was his girl and for them to back off thank goodness.

 

Tom returned with my fresh beer and rummaged through the box of tapes while I took my first swig of beer. "Hey, I was wondering what this was." He extracted a rubber hood from the box of videotapes with closed feminine eyes painted on it. "This thing must be meant to assist someone who has trouble with keeping her eyes closed. Let’s see if it helps you, Joanne."

I looked dreamily at Tom and nodded. "Sure. Just in case."

"Don’t talk. Just slide over on the couch." He adjusted the flesh colored elastic hood over my eyes and nose. It looked like an old fashioned bathing cap with the top and back cut away. "Can you see anything?"

"Nope. "But I hear the cat-lady in the video now, load and clear."

"Shhh. Be quiet, now. I can hear her too. Let’s get back into position and see if it works. If I have to get up for any reason, like to take a pee, I’ll let you know first. Otherwise, we’ll do everything the same as we did it the first time. Agreed? "

"Sure thing." Just knowing his hard shaft would soon be filling my mouth and bring back those fantastic surges of pleasure had me agreeing to anything he’d say. Once he was settled on the couch, I got back on my knees

The drone of the voice on the tape began just like the first time. I could hear Tom leaning forward and his legs encompassing my shoulders. He pulled me forward into position between his knees with his ankles, holding my butt in place. I leaned forward, put my arms on his thighs, and took the object of my pleasure into hand, to direct it to where the girl on the tape instructed.

Tom’s brief absence to fetch my beer during my trip to the bathroom must have renewed his vigor, or the voice on the tape affected him, too. His flesh was hot and hard as it penetrated my lips. It must have been the tape, because poor Tom erupted in less than a minute. Just the same, his offering was copious and filled me with the same wonderful, pulsing tremors that originated at the tip of his meat and filled me with soothing pleasure.

I was about to remove the hood and get up. Tom said that something on the tape caused him to go off prematurely. He asked me to continue. Wow! If he could go again, it would be the fifth time. Each time seemed to get progressively better for me than the one before! The droning voice insisted that I continue to lave him. I didn’t want to stop, not as long as Tom could keep getting off.

"The more you suck, the better it will get. Suck harder. Harder. Force him to drop his load again and again. You are in control of his sexual emissions. As long as he watches this tape, he will be under your control and become totally dependent on you for a growing need for continuous sexual release. He’ll orgasm again and again until he finally passes out from sheer exhaustion. In the meantime, you will be able to receive magnificent pleasure, experiencing total body orgasms. The power of his releases will radiate throughout your nervous system. All you must do is concentrate on my voice, keep your eyes closed and suck him off."

I continued to pump on his flesh, varying the depth of my penetration. When I did, the successive deep plunges filled my mouth with increasing reward. The girl’s voice kept repeating the same messages over and over in an endless cycle to the person that was with her in the video, but her voice affected me in the same captivating way.

Tom exploded in my throat, releasing what I needed to send me into hyper-drive.

"That’s it. I have to stop, Joanne. I’m done, all worn out."

"Nooooo. I need you. Let’s take a break, and try to go one more time."

"Okay, but let me up to get something to drink first. Stay where you are and rest. I’ll only be a minute. I’ll let the tape rewind to start at the beginning when I return. Sit back and relax. Here, have another sip of beer while I’m gone."

He put the cold bottle into my hand as he rose from the couch. I could hear him fumbling in the kitchenette, idly mumbling something or other. It didn’t take him very long to return and sit back down with a fresh beer of his own.

He roughly pulled my head toward his groin and pushed his rigid meat between my lips. Amazing! The brief pause enabled him to get harder and bigger than he normally was! He guided my strokes with his hand on the back of my head, while the voice from the video began canting her instructions again. With his hands on my ears, he stuffed his rampant meat deeper into my throat, deeper than he ever reached previously. The thickness of his meat filled my mouth, and the depth of his forceful plunges caused me to gag. He chuckled deviously and held my head down as a sudden flow of his hot seed filled me.

He was being unnecessarily rough and I needed to take a breather. We arranged a signal for him to release me at such a time, but he refused to let me up. Finally, I felt his hands pull away, reluctantly. I was supposed to be in control, according to the voice on the videotape. I sucked in huge amounts of air, which broke my chain of concentration. This ejaculation wasn’t pleasant to me, so I told him so.

"Oh, Joanne, baby. I’m so sorry. I got carried away. I promise not to do it again."

"You spoiled it for me and broke the mood, Tom. Shut off the tape."

"Sure. Stay there. Just relax and don’t move for a second. I heard him moving around as soon as he got up, but the sounds came from two different directions.

"Tom! Is there someone else with us?"

"Someone else? What makes you say that?"

"Because you can’t make sounds from moving around in two different parts of the room at the same time."

"Oh, a magazine fell off of the end table just now. You must have heard that."

"Oh. Sorry. I guess not being able to see gives me the jitters. Have you ever tried to test what blindness would be like by keeping your eyes closed? It isn’t easy to do. Without this blindfold, I would be looking to check out what makes every sound in the room. You’d be surprised what you can hear when you can’t see."

"Really? Like what?"

"Like the sounds of three people breathing instead of two." I swiftly removed the hood to see if someone was with us. Unfortunately, the only other person in the room was Tom. I got up and walked to a window and moved the closed curtain. A group of men were nearby, but they were walking toward our building, not away.

Still, I suspected something sinister was going on. "That last round sure didn’t seem like you at all, Tom. Are you sure that this TV and video wasn’t meant to set me up to give other guys blowjobs?" Tom had guilt written all over his face. "Out with it! You had better come clean, Tom or we’re through and I’m out of here for good. What’s going on, and where in hell did you get this fricking setup? "

"Nothing’s going on. The tapes are meant to help girls to enjoy giving head more, that’s all. You always spit out my load right afterwards and make a big deal out of gagging. Your gargling afterwards turns me off, too. That makes me want to barf. I was hoping you’d be more willing to swallow my spunk, so we could continue to party. Hey, don’t I swallow yours all the time?

"You haven’t swallowed mine in weeks, Tom. In fact, I can only recall your doing me twice or three times. However, at the moment, I’m more surprised at what’s happened to me, I can’t believe how easily you were able to talk me into moving to this apartment, wearing corsets for you, providing you with all the free oral sex you want, and to top it off, I’m beginning to enjoy doing it all."

"So, you do enjoy doing it, huh? You don’t want to stop now. Do you?"

"Well. Let me put it to you this way. Sucking one cock, one time is all that it takes to become a cocksucker. So, that makes us both a couple of cocksuckers, Tom. I was very upset with myself for allowing you to coerce me into sucking you off in the first place, but I had to admit that I was equally responsible. It wasn’t entirely your fault. Neither you nor I have control over my stature. I’m a small guy.

I guess the way that I look and can look with the proper clothes on doesn’t help matters either. Add two more things. I enjoy the feel of silks against my skin and get a kick out of being able to pass for being a female. I suppose that behaving like one and enjoying attention from men is only natural, as well.

Sucking you off wasn’t as bad as I imagined it would be. Doing what is supposed to be a degrading act should have made me feel terrible, and it did, but I soon got over it. We men are homophobic. Did you know that? Lots of girls find out early in life that sucking cock won’t kill you unless the suckee has a disease. More horny men should wise up and give mutual fellatio a whirl. It feels almost identical to French kissing someone, but the flesh within your lips is firmer, goes deeper than a tongue and hearing a partners’ moans from getting head feels exhilarating.

Sit down, Tom. You make me nervous, standing over me. As long as I’m able to act and look like a woman, why shouldn’t I enjoy preventing you from committing rape, like a woman who wants to keep her hymen intact does and still have men excite her on occasion. Who says men can hoard all the fun, anyway? When I’m in drag, I feel different, just as if I were a woman. I want to do my best to mimic one, why shouldn’t I want to try to perform sexually like one, too?"

"You really mean that? Would you get a sex change?"

"No, stupid, I mean in ways that I can, like by giving oral pleasure to you."

"Are you willing to try something else?"

"No, thank you, macho man. I can imagine what you mean, and I’m not about to let you stuff your pork back there. This is as far as we go. Comprende?"

"Look at who isn’t such a smart guy, after all. You don’t get it. Do you?"

"Get what?"

"Girls give guys head. What do girls want the guys to do for them in return?"

"Eat pussy. I don’t have one, and I’m not about to get one, so what’s your point? When you are in the mood, I’m sure you’ll come around to eating what you’ll find in place of a fur burger in my panties. Which hasn’t happened in some time, jerk. I’ll be glad to let you gnaw on my bone, when you’re ready. I’ve given yours more than its fair share of attention lately. "

"What I’d rather do is lick you out."

"Oh, gross. Tom, you’re sick. You want to stick your tongue there?"

"I can’t say that I know why, for sure. I never tried it, but I’m willing. If you take a bubble bath and let me help you to make it squeaky clean, I’ll bet you that my tongue can help you to learn how women feel when being penetrated by a men’s tongues. It’s supposed to feel better than one guy giving another a blowjob."

"What makes you so sure that I’ll like it? You seem to know too much about it."

"I read about it on a water sports website."

" I heard about water sports. Is that what you want, to give me an enema?"

"No, no, not me, Joanne. I want you to give yourself one. Afterwards, I’ll show you something called rimming."

"No way. Look, I just got used to sperm. Now you want me to do that?"

"Of course not. I will. I want to reward you and show my appreciation.

"Why not reciprocate? That’s how you introduced oral sex to me."

"You said you enjoy being treated like a woman. Well, women get head by being penetrated by a man’s tongue. I want to try it."

"What’s wrong with merely using our tongues when we kiss?"

"Nothing, nothing a all. This will seem more like doing sixty-nine with a girl. Afraid that you’ll prefer it to getting your cock sucked?"

I thought back to the time he put his tongue into the crease of my panties. His hot breath felt so good back then, better than his reluctant attention to my manhood. In retrospect, Tom isn’t a good cocksucker at all. Maybe, in this manner, he can put his tongue to better use, if he can imagine my ass is a girl’s pussy. Besides, I’ll get to know what being penetrated feels like. I don’t savor being split in two by six inches or more of heaving maniac who is too excited to control himself.

"I suppose you already have what we’ll need. It’s probably silly of me to ask." He nodded in affirmation. "Go get everything ready, and pick out a bubble bath that you like. As long as we’re at it, you are going to get dressed up like a maid and bathe me. Pick out a soap you like, one that turns you on. How’s that?"

He responded instantaneously. I went to my bedroom closet to select a negligee for myself and a simple white blouse and short skirt for Tom to wear while he attends me. When I got to the bathroom door, he was naked, and on his knees, with his head bowed. The water was still filling the tub with fragrant foam.

I had already doffed my corset in my room, and came to the bathroom in a short feminine robe. I stepped into the tub of foam, using his shoulder to lean on, and carefully lowered myself into the steaming water. His lips covered my nipples taking tiny nips, which felt too good to deny. I lay back and relaxed, while Tom cleansed my body. This wasn’t so bad. I could get used to being pampered.

I ran my fingers through Tom’s hair. "Say, let’s pretend. I’ll be the millionaire heiress, and you can be my chauffer. Do a good job, and you get to sleep with the boss, tonight. Fair enough deal?"

"Yes, madam. Relax. Allow me the privilege of doing my job well."

"When I’m through, you may use the same water to bathe in, Thomas. That will be your reward, if your work meets my standards. Otherwise, I shall send you to off your meager quarters with handcuffs on, behind your back, so you won’t be able to use your hands to play with yourself all night. You’ll have to hump the mattress as best you can without them."

"Yes, mum."

As I relaxed in the tub, I saw the contraption hanging over the curtain rod. I knew its purpose, but visualized the insertion bulb to be smaller. This one was shaped like a miniature cock, with a bulging bulb at the end of a six-inch rigid tube.

"Where did you buy that thing, Tom?"

"On an adult website, mum. This one is the smallest one they had. I knew you would refuse anything larger."

"I don’t want to use anything that even remotely resembles a male’s appendage. Take that horrid thing away. Don’t such things normally come equipped with a nozzle that is more ---shall we say, conventional?"

"Yes mum. It’s in the package. I’ll change the nozzle while you finish your bath."

"Never mind that. I’ll attend to it, myself. Now leave me be. I want to relax."

When he was gone, I rested till the water grew colder, then wanked off into the water, pleased in knowing he would soon sit in a tubful of water that was tainted with my spunk. The process of cleansing my insides is a rather personal matter, which I don’t care to share, dear reader.

I found Tom kneeling outside of the bathroom. One look at the brass filial around the doorknob, and it was obvious that his eye was glued to the keyhole. He had been watching me ever since he left the room.

I patted his head, opened my robe, brushed my stiff cock back and forth against his eager lips and told him to follow me--- on his knees. He did.

Not until I was ready to climb in the furnished double bed, did I grant Tom leave. He hurried back to the bathroom. I was confident the bath water was less than tepid, as I added sufficient cold water to make his bath a chilling experience, and also instructed him not to add hot water. He had not been gone long enough to add any, which I would have heard, if he had failed to follow my instructions.

 

He approached my bed and begged to join me. I told him to fetch the pillows from his bed. I did not wish him to soil mine. He brought all three. Two were used on top of my pillows to support my head and back while the third made a nifty tuffet to support my rump. Of course, I had Tom arrange the pillows beneath me, giving him as much difficulty as I dared. This was his fantasy, so I expected him to do all the work.

When I was comfortable, I bade him to join me, between my legs, which quickly were placed over his back for control. "Bring me off, first, unless you want me to come all over your hair and make a slimy mess for you to wash out. I think you want to please me, so you’d better do as I say."

He sucked me dry, drinking down every drop I had to offer. Then, as I grew soft, he nuzzled my drained acorns and continued his pursuit, down until he arrived at the other body portal, the one normally used only as an exit. He was shaking like a leaf as his tongue slid across the tight knot, teasing me. He was correct. His tongue felt divine as it slowly encroached upon its target and he applied a gentle vacuum which sent yet another series of sensations through me. With a sudden thrust, his tongue was inside and felt gigantic. Again, he proved that he knew more than me about ways a body could receive ultimate pleasure. I gasped from feeling his thick taster pass the tight circular muscle, traveling in the wrong direction. I loved the feeling of his squirming tongue and held his head fast.

I thrashed on the bed from being thoroughly invaded. This felt wonderful to me. His tongue was hot, thick, coarse and vibrant. It created sensations I never knew could be possible. I let him continue to have his way, delighting in all the gentle nuances his efforts produced. He was correct in his assessment. His mild thrusts made me feel more feminine, as he plunged his tongue into the delicate tissue of my nether lips, my own sweet pussy to provide as means to satisfy a man’s lust.

I felt utterly weak and helpless to prevent him from continuing his task.

"Oh yes, Tom. Thank you. Thank you. It feels marvelous. Yes, like that. Please keep doing me like that. Oh, yes. Can you reach deeper?"

I felt his tongue lengthen and descend deeper into my body. It grew in girth as it proceeded. It seemed impossible for his tongue to stretch so far. It receded and resumed its onslaught, twice as thick as it was during the initial violation.

"Oh, yes. Yes! Yes! Like that." It seemed that he could wiggle his tongue. "Do that more! Oh! Oh! Yes!" I ejaculated from the feel of his tongue inside of me.

"I’m coming, Tom. I’m coming again! Stop now or your pillows will be soiled."

But, Tom didn’t stop. He continued to ravage my bum, but my mind must have misjudged what I could feel. His mouth covered my penis and his tongue was still deeply imbedded in my posterior. I gazed downward through glazed eyes to see Tom’s head bobbing up and down on my stiff "mister". His tongue could not have been still inside of my sweet little "miss". He held his head down and took all of me deep into his throat, and wiggled something inside against the base of the shaft. It must have been his massive fingers, as they wiggled furiously until I had to come for the fourth time in the span of than an hour and a half.

Tom deftly rose up beside me from my flaccid cock, which still spewed gobs of semen forth, or what seemed to as if it did and brought a mouth full of my own spunk to my lips forcing it inside my mouth. Two fingers were still buried inside of me working furiously as his tongue entered my mouth, thrusting. I sucked on his hot tongue like it was his huge cock, as he fed me my spunk.

I set the full weight of my hips firmly onto his hand, feeling his fingers continue their erratic gyrations. "You love being the woman, don’t you? You’ve been dying to know what it’s like to get your big ass laid ever since you first put on a corset. Well? How does it feel? Like it? Ready for a real fucking? Well, that’s too bad.

You shouldn’t have been so greedy during the last video. You drained me dry. In the future, you’ll have to learn to be less greedy. A woman can engage in sex endlessly, but a man can only give so much. You’ll have to settle for a finger fuck until I eat some oysters or a dozen raw eggs, Joanne. You’d better get used to your new name, because I don’t think you’ll ever want to be treated like a man again. All you’ll want is to feel a cock inside from now own. Say it! Admit it."

"Yes! Yes. I want a cock inside of me. I can’t help it. Fuck me. Keep fucking me with your hand. I need it. I can’t believe how good it feels. Trust me, Tom. This is far better than male sex. I love it. I love it."

Tom continued to ravage my backside with his oscillating fingers, bringing me to the edge of consciousness several times. I finally did pass out, but not for some time, not until I begged him to stop and leave me be. My body was wracked with the pain of exhaustion; sweet, utterly wonderfully fulfilling exhaustion.

 

 

Chapter Six.

In the span of one day I was hooked on being treated as Tom’s personal sex toy. I started out each morning by giving him head, taking a shower and douche, and letting him use his tongue to excite my bum. Then, he would insert a trainer into my backside, which he claimed was very necessary to enable my womanhood to flower into maturity. I didn’t know what he was talking about and didn’t care, as long as he’d continue to suck on my "rosette" as he called it.

My bum was somewhat sore for the first few days, days Tom and I spent mostly in bed together, as the term had ended and we would soon be going home.

Tom was more polite to me since he tricked me into letting him fill my rump with his wiggling fingers, which I enjoyed tremendously. I couldn’t understand how he got off by using his fingers. He said he could feel my prostate gland pulsing in my butt. It drove him wild, knowing he could make me ejaculate without my penis being touched. Why should I care, as long as he enjoyed himself and provided me with continuous pleasure for hours?

We watched the tape with the buried messages several more times before we got bored with the one I liked: the one with the girl giving fellatio lessons.

There were several tapes to choose from, so we picked out another and watched that one several times. Again, the feminine voice in the video suggested girls use a hood to prevent distractions and improve concentration. This same voice on this tape suggested that girls need more than one source of the essential protein that was in semen. Their active libidos could be satisfied without impairing their lover. A man only had so much to give, the tape claimed, just like Tom told me.

We were more careful about my draining Tommy. We made sure he rested well between blowjobs, not for long but at least for fifteen minutes each time. We both agreed that beer contained plenty of yeast for his stamina, and a bottle of beer for each of us heightened the pleasures we derived from our oral sex sessions.

Tom claimed the beer and rest periods improved the quality of his ejaculations as well as his stamina, which I can verify. In a matter of a more few days, he could orgasm up to six times per evening. I must say that he wasn’t always up to par, and he often surprised me by smelling odd, coming too soon, even on the third, fourth or fifth session. Imagine that. The final round always wore Tom out.

I was surprised that I wasn’t fatigued by all the sex we were having. Other than a sore neck at times, I felt energetic. Maybe it was due to my new vitamins. Marge ordered them through a supply house or broker, which she then provided to me at a substantial discount. She claimed they were formulated with new technology and were intended to pump up winsome guys like me to be full of energy. I was eager to try out anything, as I often felt weary and sure needed some filling out.

Tom and I parted ways, returning to our homes for the summer break two weeks later than we did the prior year. We enjoyed days and days of steamy sex without being interrupted by class schedules. We were inseparable since our move to the apartment and seldom socialized with any one else. I became addicted to tasting his juices and feeling the tactile pleasure from sex with him and missed his close attention soon after he left for home. His promise to return to the campus as early as he could prompted me to wish that we could have spent the entire summer together. I would have much preferred his company to wrapping my hand in silk, as I anticipated I would be doing until we did get back together.

When I arrived home, my folks announced that dad’s employer promoted him to a great new job. One catch: it’s at another plant. I was happy for dad. He’s one heck of hard-working guy. He deserved the promotion. Our house was a total mess when I arrived. My folks were packing for the impending move planned for the middle of the following month. That left five weeks to spend with them.

Mom said Dad’s raise was a godsend and would cover most of my annual tuition, but the promotion included responsibilities that will require him to devote time to learning the new job. The gist of what they meant was that, unless I was willing to stow all my stuff and join them, my being home for the summer messed up their plans for an extended vacation before he had to report to his new assignment.

 

Without any advance word to me, they sold the house that I grew up in, and were pulling up roots. Chances are, I’d probably not get to visit with my friends in town, once we moved away, so I was reluctant to suddenly drop everything and join my folks for an extended vacation trip. I planned to spend time in the summer with my friends that attended high school with me. Besides, my parents devoted over twenty years to raising my sister and me, planning their vacations for us kids, not them. They deserved a break. I’d feel like I’d be intruding if I went along.

The buyers were not due to take possession of the house until the folks returned from their vacation. The situation was clear to me. I’d stay behind to pack up stuff that I didn’t want to lug to school with me in the fall, and help pack the balance of their things so they could direct their attention to "seeing the country". I’d head back to the campus when my dad was to report to his new position. I had already notified them about the apartment. Thankfully, they consented to my solution, as long as I threw no parties. I’d have the house to myself for the next five weeks.

They didn’t have to know that I’d be too busy looking at new clothing styles to be interested in parties. I knew that Mr. Shelton was holding a summer job for me at dad’s plant in town. Besides being able to generate enough to survive on for the summer, I’d be able to expand my growing wardrobe. All I had to do was use my mom’s car to transport my purchases back to the apartment before they returned from their vacation. As long as I covered my tracks, they’d not be the wiser.

One evening later in the week, I called Tom to bring him up to date on hometown scuttlebutt. It seems that a rumor about Ann Flynn had everyone in town buzzing. She was in a ruckus at our local hangout. Someone there wouldn’t take no for an answer, and she stuck a fork into the back of the guy’s hand. OUCH! I also clued Tom in on the likelihood of my early return to the campus, and why.

He wanted to know if he could stop by and see me one weekend. I explained that I promised my folks that I wouldn’t entertain while they were away. He whispered that he missed me and asked me to say that we needed to go over schedules or something to get them to permit me to have him visit me.

Three weeks later my folks were well out of state when Tom came to play for a whole weekend. I had almost forgotten how good he smelled and tasted. Funny, he only lasted two rounds a day. I was suspicious that he was dating someone where he lived. I felt like he might be two-timing me. I could hardly wait until we got back to school, where I was in control. Also, having sex with Tom didn’t have the same zing, like it did within the apartment and with our sexy videotapes.

By the time I returned to the campus, my skin was softer from taking the vitamins that Marge got me. I wore girl’s clothes almost daily except for working hours for the entire five weeks that my parents were away, and all the time on weekends as well. I even took short drives in the evening in drag.

Wearing girls’ under-things too much must cause guys to have reactions. My nips began to itch like crazy about the third week that I was at home. I scratched and pulled at them babies for hours on end because I loved the way it felt. That only made them sore and swell up more, and I loved the way the centers got bigger and darker from pulling on them so hard, so much. I had to be careful. If I wasn’t and got my t-shirt wet from a sudden shower, people would be able to see how much the nipples protruded. They weren’t boobs, but they felt as if their presence wasn’t imaginary, either.

The weekend before my parents were to return, I regretfully packed up my new clothes and delivered several boxes to the apartment, where Tom was waiting for me as planned. After carrying everything in, He asked me to do a fashion show of all the things he hadn’t seen me wear yet. I couldn’t possibly show him them all. It’s amazing how many nice things I found in my size at thrift stores for a few pennies on the dollar.

It felt good to hear the soft female voice on the videos prompting me to suck Tom off. He was considerate and stocked the fridge with cold beer and the cupboard with snacks for the weekend before I arrived. After providing his requested, sexy fashion show, I was happily on my knees pumping on his manhood, swirling my tongue to reap the sudden rush I got from putting my greedy lips around its thick swollen helmet. It didn’t take me long. Something about giving Tom head in our apartment made doing it feel and taste better than in the house, or in our dorm.

As I was about to have an orgasm in my throat, Tom’s hand caught the edge of my blindfold and it snapped. The strap had broken. As my eyes got accustomed to the light, I saw Tom moving a small bottle of fluid behind the bottle of beer that was on the end table next to the couch, our usual spot to have sex.

"What’s in the little bottle Honey?"

"Oh, nothing." He blushed and I knew he was searching for a way to explain the small vial he tried to move behind the lamp. "I use it on my lips when they’re dry. It’s a hand-blended lip balm I got from the druggist. Yeah, that’s it." I knew he was lying. "I’m trying to ward off a cold sore. It works fast every time. Ask your pharmacist to mix some for you. I’d let you use mine, but it might spread germs."

"That’s bull! We were French kissing and now I’m giving you head, and you worry about giving me your germs? Don’t be ridiculous, Tom! Hand it over to me, now. I want to know what it tastes like."

"You’ll be sorry. When you get a cold sore" I quickly grabbed the bottle before he could stop me and opened the small lid. There was a roller tip under the lid like the ones on bottles of ink for recharging the stamp pads I use at my summer job to mark "inspected" on boxes with a rubber stamp.

The fluid inside of the bottle was clear and odorless. I carefully touched the roller with the tip of my extended tongue and felt a hot flush come over me. The fluid was almost tasteless, but made me swoon and get dizzy. I sat back, feeling soft and mushy inside, not at all angry like I should have been. I took my time and let my head clear before I spoke. "This is what’s been giving me the thrill each time I suck you off, isn’t it, Tom?

"Uh, yeah. It is. I was going to tell you about it, but every time that I remember to mention it, you get real passionate and I get excited and forget."

"That’s real lame, Tom. You know that? What is this stuff?"

"I don’t know. It was in the box with the videos."

I held the bottle’s label up to the light. "Highly concentrated. For best results, roll gently once over approximately one square inch at a time. Avoid excessive use or a numbing effect will detract from intended purpose." I could barely read the fine print on the label.

"Damn you, Tom! You’ve been using drugs on me. I suppose this is what altered my perception about the way your sperm tastes and made me forget about my aversion to swallowing it. It accounts for why I relish the taste instead. Why did you do this to me? What else have you done to me? You’d better tell the truth, the whole truth, you dog, or I’ll call the campus police. What’s in this bottle? "

"No! Don’t call the police! Hear me out! Please!"

"You got five minutes. Talk fast or you’re dead meat. Am I making myself clear?"

"I inherited the kit from the guy that used to live here. He used it the same way on his co-tenant. He got it from the guy before him. I don’t know who put it together. I heard about the apartment becoming available at one of the bars we visited in the first month of your changes and looked him up to find out if it was available. What’s in the bottle is harmless, but makes you feel all mushy inside and want to make love with whoever is with you, guy or gal."

"Ecstasy?"

"I told you. I don’t know what’s in it. All I know is the first time I experimented with it; I thought it was only supposed to make me feel better by applying some to the head of my cock. Instead, you went absolutely wild. By the way, it has a similar effect on me, but takes less time because it’s absorbed through the skin and enters the pulsing blood in my the dick quickly. Orally, it seems to take longer, because it’s diluted and you absorb it through your tongue and your throat. You have to admit, it makes us feel better and heightens the sensations we feel.

Did using it hurt you in any way? It hasn’t hurt me yet. It’s not like I purposely tricked you into giving me head by using the stuff. You had to suck my cock in the first place in order to ingest it. I only used it to make oral sex feel better for both of us. I was afraid if I stopped, you wouldn’t want to do me anymore."

"Is there anything else you want to let me know? So help me, Tom if there is, and I find out about it later, your days of having a cock to get sucked will be finished."

"Well, there’s one more thing."

"Out with it."

"Remember when you thought that someone else was in the apartment with us?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Ronnie was here with us."

"Who is Ronnie?"

"The guy that lived here before us. Part of the price of the TV and video kit was for him to get a blowjob from you. He convinced me that you’d never know it had happened. I feel terrible about setting you up, but since I probably will never see you again anyway, I might as well tell you everything. You gave him head twice."

"So, that explains how you were able to blow a wad six times in one night. Which of those six loads were his?"

"The third, fourth and fifth loads were his, on the first night. The second time he only used you twice. If it’s any consolation, he thinks you’re better than most of the women he’s had. I had to do it to get the videos."

"I suppose the man must have gotten around a lot and spoke with the voice of authority on good head. Oh, well! At least I was duped into it. You can’t blame me for wanting to do it. I hope you realize that it still was date rape."

"I know how you feel Joe, and your opinion isn’t going to be swayed, but I have to tell you that you consented to have sex before I used any of these things. All I did was drop my drawers, and you homed in on me like you had radar. If you charge me with rape, my defense will be that you initiated the sex by suggesting I wear panties, and were a consenting participant from the start. I’d be willing to take a lie detector test to confirm my testimony. Would you?"

"Tom, I don’t want to charge you with a thing. I wanted you to come clean and be above board with me, that’s all. If I can’t trust you, how can we share this place?"

"You mean to say you’ll stay with me?" Tom put his huge arms around me and kissed me hard. "As long as you want me to come clean, I want to let you know that I think Marge is pumping you full of slow release hormones. Those vitamins are meant for women. They’re sold in Europe as the female version of Viagra. I can tell they are working on you already. You are getting nifty little pair, babe."

"What? How could she do that to me?"

"Did you ask her to advise you of any ways to make you look more authentic?"

"Yeah. I did. I told her I wanted to be able to pass in daylight."

"Well! You asked for it, and she accommodated you. There is no law to prevent a guy from growing a rack of his own. In a few more weeks, you’re going to have a hell of a time taking a shower at the gym. If the stuff she gave you accumulates, it may take months before the effect slows down. It’s hard to feel guilty over not telling you why sucking me off felt so good to you. Once you have breasts you won’t mind having them sucked on, either. Just mentioning it makes them perk up. You might as well face it. One guy can’t possibly satisfy you.

Seems to me you were eager to become feminine, all along. Try to deny it all you want. You are a hot number that loves to eat cock, mine or anyone else’s."

"Is that what you think? Am I that greedy for it?"

"You don’t just suck cock, you devour it. From the very beginning, you wouldn’t admit it, even to yourself, but deep inside you wanted to have someone give you a plausible reason for you to try it out. Once you tried it, you couldn’t stop.

You asked me to come clean, Joanne, so I will. Tell me, honestly. Right now, if I offered to put a bit of that stuff on my cock again for you to lick off of it, would you tell me to take a flying leap through a rolling donut, or will you beg me to let you get back down on your knees and let you suck on it again? Be honest, now."

 

 

Chapter Eight.

Well, that’s how it all started. Tom and I room together still. We both finished our master’s degrees, and we still live in the same apartment. I’m teaching, while Tom finishes up his doctorate dissertation. Once that’s behind us, we’ll see what is in store. We made enough money to continue on in graduate school. It was hard to keep a straight face when I’d meet guys that I serviced and they didn’t recognize me in drab. I lived in constant fear of being discovered, but it never happened. I was able to look like a totally different person for my customers.

I still like to wear a blindfold once in a while, just for kicks. Tom likes to plow into me from behind, with a nice dose of incentive coating his cock to be absorbed by my colon tissue while I suck off a paying customer.

Once my breasts filled out more, I had some trouble – trying to convince the state licensing bureau that I was a male, so I gave it up and asked them to mark what made them happy. Even though I can sire a child, I don’t think of myself that way anymore. I have little interest in women or children. I am feminine in my mind and all my interest lies in men. I love big men, men with lots of stamina, to be precise.

We were very careful about who we brought to the apartment for sex while I was still in school. I waited until after graduation to resume the hormones that Marge got for me. It took over a year to develop to "D’s". My dates thought I was Tom’s girl friend, not his roommate. Naturally a roommate would get scarce if he wasn’t invited to a party, so no one asked, or cared about Joe. All they wanted was a good blowjob, or a hand job. Play for pay was lucrative, and once you’ve sucked a lot of cock, the number of men doesn’t matter anymore.

I know Tom is growing tired of me, but he’s still dependant on me for my income. He stopped pampering me, but still uses my rump for a playground. He won’t let me entertain any other men that way. If he does, I’ll know it’s over between us. In due time, it’s bound to happen. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

Oh, we got bored with the videotapes. One day the small set with the VCR was gone. I didn’t ask Tom what happened and didn’t care. Who needs it? I’m happy with my role in life and plan to continue what I do, unless Tom asks me to stop.

I will do what he wants, as long as we stay together. I don’t want to think about looking for a new roommate. The one I have is ideal.

 

 

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© 2001 by Virginia Kane. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.