Date: Mon, 8 Jun 2009 10:10:24 -0700 (PDT)
From: Beautiful Creamer <beautifulcreamer@yahoo.com>
Subject: Model Sissyboy

Model Sissyboy
By Beautiful Creamer


One -- The Stage Mother

"But, Mom!" Henry Tightbum said, "I don't want to be a model."

Heather Tightbum looked at her recalcitrant ten-year-old son and tsk-tsked.
The boy had major attributes all right, but not a lot of good sense.

Henry was the prettiest boy in their town.  Maybe in the state.  But he had
never considered using his beauty to his advantage,

Men, lots of men, would drool someday when they saw Henry the Supermodel.
Whether in pictures, video, or in person.  The boy would be the perfect
model; Heather just KNEW it.

As a divorced woman and single mother, Heather might not have been as smart
about men as she should have been.  But she knew that men "wanted" her only
child.

Heather had always known that she and her no-good ex had produced a
beautiful boy.  She had first begun to notice men's interest in Henry when
she began to take him to the town swimming pool when he was almost nine.

Men would pretend they weren't looking at Henry -- sneaking peeks at the
boy from behind their dark sunglasses.  Looking not only at Henry's huge,
blue eyes and classically beautiful face, but at Henry's little lump of
"boy's things," barely concealed by her son's skimpy swim trunks.  Henry's
deliciously plump bottom, which strained to peek out from his trunks.
Henry's creamy, kissable skin.  His slim, caressable body.  And [gasp] the
puffiest, most pronounced nipples in Western Civilization.

Men wanted to fuck Henry.  Heather knew that.  Henry didn't.  He just
thought that men were nice people.  People who spoke to him nicely and
bought him ice-cream cones.  People who didn't make him clean his room and
pick up his toys.  Nicer than women.

The boy had never considered that men were being nice to him so they could
fuck him.  He only had a vague notion of what fucking was -- only knew what
they taught him in school -- fucking was a man and a woman making babies.
Henry didn't even know that men could fuck boys.

Heather didn't exactly want men fucking her son.  But she understood the
concept of "inevitability."  Beautiful boys -- the truly beautiful -- got
fucked.

Heather wasn't acting like a "stage mother" to pimp out her beautiful son.
She wanted him to become a sissyboy supermodel.  So she could manage his
seven-figure income for him.

That kind of stage mother.

Heather deserved a break, didn't she?  Raising a child without ten cents
from his no-good, philandering, asshole of a father (the breakup
was...unfriendly), hadn't been easy.  She was just "using her gifts" as
they told her at church -- when she went to church.

Being sensible.

If only Henry would be sensible too.

Heather and Henry were sitting in the outer office of Creampix Productions,
the premier photography studio in the region.  They had been REFERRED to
Creampix by a talent scout from Spermsearch, the premier sissyboy modeling
agency in America.  The talent scout had seen Henry playing baseball with
his friends.  And the man spunked his pants before the third inning.

Such was the as-yet-untapped megaforce that was Henry.

"You're just getting your picture taken, today, Henry," Heather said.
"Don't be such a baby.  If the pictures look good to the modeling agency,
then you'll get a chance to be a model."

"But, Mom, I don't want to..."

"Enough!"  Heather rarely raised her voice with her son.  But this was as
good a time as any.

Henry kept quiet.  He knew Mom's limits.  And this was as far as he could
go.

Just then they were joined by Glenn Creampix, the proprietor.

Henry looked up.  And met Glenn's eyes.

The boy wasn't trying to stun the man.  But he did.

Glenn Creampix, the jaded photographer of thoroughbred sissyboys, was
astounded by Henry's beauty and...could it be?...perhaps he was
mistaken...the boy's raw innocence.

It was a petrifying combination.  It petrified the man's cock all right.

Glenn managed to sputter out a "Pleased to meet you" to Heather and Henry.

Heather had seen that look before and she knew what it meant.  Henry had
seen that look from men so many times that he thought it was a normal,
everyday look.

Glenn led mother and son back to his studio.  Gave Heather a chair.  Said,
"Let's just take a few shots of you as you are, to get things started, OK,
Henry?"

Henry, who felt more comfortable now that he was dealing with a man,
agreed..

"You look very nice today, Henry," Glenn said.

"Thanks, Mr. Creampix," Henry said.  His mother had dressed him "preppy" in
khakis, yellow polo and boat shoes, no socks.  Like most boys his age,
Henry didn't think about clothes much.  Unlike most boys his age, Henry
didn't need to.  He looked great in anything.  Better in nothing.

Glenn relaxed the young beauty as well as he could by posing him and
clicking away.  Having him smile and turn.  Telling him how good he looked.
Not using the word "pretty" just yet.

Henry gradually relaxed, though he still thought the whole enterprise to be
silly.  He was no model.

Things had gotten comfortable in the studio until...

"All right, Henry," Mr. Creampix said.  "That's enough of those pics.  Take
your shirt off now."

Did Henry hear that properly?  Take off his shirt?

He reviewed what he had just heard.  Must be a mistake.  But then Heather
said, "You heard Mr. Creampix, Honey.  Take your shirt off.  The people
who'll hire you at Spermsearch won't want just some photos of you in some
polo shirt.  They'll want to know that you're suited for swimsuit or
underwear advertisements.  Take the shirt off, Sweetie."

Said firmly.  Very firmly.

Henry looked at Mr. Creampix and blushed.  He had been to the beach and the
pool, but showing his bare chest here just seemed naughty.

Though Mom didn't give Henry much of a choice.

He certainly hoped that Mom didn't want him to take his pants off too.
With that "secret" he was hiding.  The one his Mom had begun the strange
day with.  Insisting on him wearing it.

Maybe just the shirt.  Henry took it off.

Revealing the aforementioned, spectacularly puffy, swollen, erect nipples.

Mr. Creampix sat down when he saw the pointy treasures.  As if he had been
shot.

Mr. Creampix scolded himself for being unprofessional, but he was only
human.

Those were the world's finest boytits!!

Henry recognized Mr. Creampix's "look."  Henry had gotten that awestruck
look a lot from men, whenever they saw him with his shirt off.  It was kind
of nice.  In a creepy way.  Like men thought he was special or something.
Some of the men seemed to get uncomfortable in their crotches.  Like
Mr. Stretcher, Henry's baseball coach, did...a lot...when he saw Henry.

Mr. Creampix recovered most of his composure, but Henry noticed that the
man had some discomfort in his pants too...just like Mr. Stretcher.

The man took like a hundred pictures of Henry with his shirt off.  Using
his hands to position Henry for many of the pics.  Even brushing against
Henry's nipples once or twice.  Making the man visibly shudder.

Odd, Henry thought.  Then wondered anew when they could get out of there.

The man stopped camera-clicking and Henry figured they were done.

But no...

"OK, buddy," the man said.  "Let's get those trousers off.  We'll need some
leg shots."

Henry looked back and forth -- wildly -- between his mom and Mr. Creampix!
He couldn't.  Mom knew why.  That morning she had made him
wear...[blush]...[gasp]...panties!

Mom said, "Don't worry about showing Mr. Creampix your panties, Henry,
Honey.  He was the one who told me to have you wear them.  Advertisers use
pretty boys in sissy panties to sell a lot of products.  How can you be a
model if they don't see you in panties?"

Henry didn't like the way this was going.  Would they expect him to be
NAKED next?  No way his Mom would allow that, he reasoned.

Still, he would be almost naked if he did what this man (and his Mom)
wanted.

Henry hesitated.

So Mr. Creampix showed him a portfolio of pretty boys in panties selling
mainstream products in mainstream magazines.

"Timmy says, `I love to kiss a man who uses Gleamo to get his teeth
white!'" one ad said.  Timmy was an 11-year-old cutie pie in pink panties
with white lace trim.

Another ad showed an unidentified, nine-year-old angel in baby-blue. thong
panties, his semi-bare bottom pointed at the camera as he coquettishly
looked back over his shoulder at the camera.  The pretty boy was holding up
a shaving product, saying something or other about a man's face being as
smooth as his baby bottom if the man used the shaving product.

Henry had never seen ads like that.  But they must have been real!

Was that what he would do as a model?  Stand around in panties selling
stuff?  Tease men about kissing them?

If he protested about doing that model-posing stuff, Henry was pretty sure
that Mom would lecture him about all the starving children in Abbadabbastan
or somewhere.  The way she did when he didn't eat his spinach..

But why would anyone buy something just because Henry, standing there in
panties, recommended it?

Perhaps there was a lot Henry didn't know about men yet.  Perhaps he would
soon find out more.

Henry was so confused and scared about things that being semi-nude in front
of a man hadn't resulted in an erection.  For Henry.  Mr.. Creampix's cock
was swollen and throbbing in his pants as he captured Henry's intense
beauty on film.

Lots of film.

Lots of beauty.

Henry and Heather had been with Mr. Creampix for about an hour when the
randy photographer stopped clicking his camera.

At last, Henry thought.  We can go home.

But no...

"Mrs. Tightbum," Mr. Creampix said, "I'll need to take some pictures of
Henry in the nude now.  Perhaps you'll want to leave."

Henry's eyes filled with tears of terror!  In the nude?!?!?!?  This, this
man wanted to take pictures of Henry wearing no clothes at all?

Henry cried out, "Oh, no!  Please Mom, don't let him make me do that?  I'll
clean my room!  I'll study harder in school. Please, Mom!"

Heather smiled at her son.  "You're being silly, Henry..  All the top
models pose nude now and then.  They're proud of their bodies.  Don't you
want to be a top model?"

Henry didn't.  And he didn't want to pose nude.  Ever.

But then Mr. Creampix said, "Look at these pictures, Henry.  I took them
myself.  Remember that boy Timmy?  Here he is."

Henry looked.  Timmy was nude all right.  Deliciously so.  In one picture
he was in a print advertisement showing off everything he owned.  His
little, three-inch cock was stone-stiff and leaking something that looked
milky-clear.  The caption said, "I get so excited whenever I think about
Fudgie-Wudgies!"  Which were a brand of cookies, as Henry could see.  There
was a box of them right there in the ad.

People bought stuff after looking at nude boys selling it?

Impossible.

Wasn't it?

Heather said, "See, Henry?  It's no big deal.  No top modeling agency will
even give you an interview unless you show them `everything' in your
portfolio."

Then, to Mr. Creampix, she said, "I'll leave you two alone.  Henry will
remove his panties for you.  And you can take all the pictures you want.
Take your time."

And she left.

Leaving Henry alone.  To remove his panties.  And stand there.

Nude.

With that man.

Henry trembled.  Though he wasn't just afraid, exactly.  He was sort
of...excited too.

Though not excited enough to produce a "boner."  Thank goodness!  That
would have been humiliating!  And would send entirely the wrong message to
Mr. Creampix.

Mr. Creampix seemed pretty happy about what he was seeing without the
boner..  He snapped about a hundred pictures from lots of angles -- some of
them really naughty.  At least they felt naughty to Henry.

On his knees, bottom facing the camera as he looked back over his shoulder
at the lens.  Even [gasp] "spreading his cheeks" for three snaps of the
camera.  And "skinning it back" to show the camera the parts of his penis
only he and Mom had seen when he washed.  The oh-so-sensitive head!

Mr. Creampix nearly fainted when he saw Henry's delicious anus, parted
invitingly, with a mere glimpse of the boy's tiny ballsack dangling below.
Had he not been a professional, he would have stopped taking pictures and
started taking the boy.  Roughly, if need be.

But he was able to control his feral instincts.  And resume his delightful,
but unsatisfying task.

Mr. Creampix took maybe 25 close-ups of Henry's penis alone!  And another
20 or so of Henry's "tee-tees," which the man asked him to hold in the
delicate fingers of his boyish, right hand, presenting them for the
camera's pleasure.

It was so degrading!  And humiliating!

Henry consoled himself with the fact that things had to be drawing to a
close, since he didn't have any more clothes to remove.

Wrong!

"Sweetie, I don't know why...maybe you're nervous...but you don't have a
stiffie yet.  And no pretty boy's portfolio is complete unless he proudly
displays his erect penis.  Can you make it stiff for me?  Please?"

Henry blushed crimson.  The flirty, naughty man had just called him
"Sweetie."  And wanted him to get stiff "down there."  Henry couldn't
simply do that.  It just happened.  Like when he woke up each morning.  And
sometimes when Amanda Cuntly looked at him in school.

He couldn't just make it stiff.

So he didn't try.

Attitude! Mr. Creampix thought.  All these models give you attitude
eventually.  Fortunately, he knew how to deal with it.

"Let me help you, Sweetie," the man said.  He sat in a chair and drew the
naked boy to his lap.  Which Henry should have resisted.  But he didn't.
He felt good on the man's lap.  Even though he was naked.

Still, he flinched when Mr. Creampix touched his penis.  No one should do
that.  That's why they call that area your "privates."

After the reflexive flinch, though, Henry had to admit that it felt awfully
nice.  Having a man's hand on you penis.  Just touching.  No funny stuff.

Henry felt things stirring in his testicles and his penis was showing signs
of life.  The man was softly running his hand up and down Henry's penis and
even cuddling his ballbag a little.  That felt so nice that Henry gave a
little gasp.  Then blushed and looked down.

The man looked as if he wanted to do all kinds of things...naughty
things...but was holding himself back.  Which was fine with Henry.  Mostly.

Henry was very stiff and very excited from all the nice fondling and was a
bit disappointed when the man stopped, then took many more pictures, this
time with Henry's three inches fully rampant.

Twenty minutes later, Henry was losing his "chubby."  Mr. Creampix stopped
taking pictures and drew Henry to his lap again.  Henry was pretty sure
that the objective was to restiffen him for more shots.

Wrong again.

Sitting on Mr. Creampix's lap alone made Henry stiff again, so why was the
man pulling back Henry's foreskin?  Running it back and forth?  Telling
Henry how beautiful he was and then, [gasp] [pant] kissing him!?!?!?!

Kissing and wanking!  Then licking Henry's tongue with his tongue!

Did Henry scream for his Mom???

No.

But he did scream when, after ten delicious minutes of French-kissing and
expert masturbation, Henry Tightbum "gave it up" for the first time in his
beautiful life.

In four large, high, creamy bursts of boyish lust.  Which the man, ever the
professional, aimed at Henry's delectable belly button.

With his strong arms, Mr. Creampix picked the stunned Henry up and carried
him to the lighted, photo-area's couch and laid him onto his back.

Henry looked at Mr. Creampix with wild conjecture.  What had just happened
to him?  Why had the boy just experienced both agony in ecstasy in a
stupefying flash?  Why was he shamefacedly humiliated while eager for the
next opportunity for similar mortification?

What had just rushed from his penis during his luscious spasms?  It wasn't
pee.  Henry knew that.  But what was it?

And when could he "take that ride" again?

During Henry's bewildered reverie, Mr. Creampix was snapping away again --
preserving a record of the beautiful boy's first orgasm that belonged in
the Smithsonian.

Henry looked down at his tummy.  A small body of creamy goo had formed, in
an amorphous pond around his belly button.

Mr. Creampix captured Henry's shock and awe gloriously.  Photographically.
Permanently.  Many of the shots Mr. Creampix took that day would live on as
long as there was an Internet.

Mr. Creampix couldn't deny the world such magnificence.

Henry had stopped wondering when he was going home and began to wonder what
humiliating, degrading, filthy action would be required of him next.  He
hoped it was a good one.

Mr. Creampix finally put his camera down after he had just about burned out
the lens from all the steamy pics he took.

Then he grabbed a portfolio, sat next to Henry, who was still moist with
his own boy's cream and reclining on the couch, and opened the portfolio.

"See, Henry," he said.  "I'm not making this up.  Here's an ad, a very
popular ad, using a pose very similar to the ones we just worked."

Henry gazed with wonder at a full-color advertisement that was the
centerfold of a recent "Sports Illuminated."  There was a blond boy, almost
as pretty as Henry, perhaps a year older judging by his cock size.  The boy
had sprayed that creamy stuff all over his tummy and it had formed a sperm
lake that was visible from the space shuttle.  The beautiful angel was
smiling broadly at the camera and "saying." "Daddy says that my boy's cream
lake is the only one he likes better than Lake Winnipissockey!"

Then there was a bunch of dumb stuff about taking your next vacation at
Lake Winnipissockey.

Oh dear.

It was true.

Pretty boy models were debasing themselves to sell products.  Humiliating
themselves to get men to look at them and buy those products.

Henry had two major thoughts about all that.  The boys must be paid very
well for degrading themselves in order to sell those products and/or on
some level, the boys must truly and completely enjoy degrading themselves
as they excite men.

How curious, as Alice said.

Henry wondered why Mr. Creampix had dropped the portfolio and was looking
at Henry strangely.  He wasn't taking any more pictures.  Which was a
relief to Henry.  Sort of.

Why did Mr. Creampix look so flushed and uncomfortable?  Come to think of
it, Henry was a bit uncomfortable too.  Sitting on a sofa.  Naked.  With a
man.

Henry wasn't "embarrassed uncomfortable" any more.  Or "scared
uncomfortable."  It was more like..."needy uncomfortable."

He needed to do that awesome thing again...the creamy thing...that followed
him getting stiff and the man [blush] kissing him and rubbing his penis.

They were both needy.

Very needy.

Henry started the path to unneediness for them both by parting his lips and
looking at the man in open invitation to kiss him.  An action that startled
the man a bit.

And triggered an unusual action by the man before he accepted the
invitation for a kiss.  Mr. Creampix took off his pants!  And his
underpants!  Leaving him quite naked below the waist.  Though his shirttail
still concealed his equipment from his budding model's curious/frightened
eyes.

Before the boy could express concern about things going too far,
Mr. Creampix covered Henry's mouth with the sweetest of kisses.  With lots
of excellent tongue.  Which made the boy's little heart flutter and his
cocklet throb with anticipation.

Rather than masturbate the boy, however, the man kissed his way down
Henry's chin and neck, then to each glorious nipple, which he licked and
sucked with erotic skill and gusto.

Henry's spermies died in legions when Mr. Creampix enhanced his nipple
adoration with a careful, slow, middle-fingerpad-only rub of the boy's anus
ring.  Kissing the whimpering lad's "boytitties" as he teased and tormented
his "boypussy!"

Erotic overload!

Henry was squeaking and squealing and trying to grab the side of the cliff
before he fell a thousand feet and then the man inserted his middle finger,
just to the depth of the nail, into Henry's sweet, wrinkled hole.

Aggghhhh!!

Henry screamed as if he had been shot in the testicles.  Which was how it
felt for a blinding nanosecond.  Followed immediately by sharp, intense
waves of pure pleasure.  Helpless ejaculation that coated the drying,
spermy lakebed on Henry's perfect tummy.

Mr. Creampix was pleased.  He enjoyed pleasuring this most beautiful and
innocent of boys.  Though he needed some relief of his own pretty soon.  Or
die from severe and aggravated blueballis fatalis.

Perhaps he could endure a few more minutes of deprivation.  That boy's
cream was too good to waste.

An exhausted Henry could barely focus his eyes after his second orgasm of
that day (and his life).  So he wasn't sure what that wet feeling was on
his stomach until he managed to discern that Mr. Creampix was licking up
the creamy stuff that Henry had pumped out -- twice.

Licking with his tongue!  The best methodology, no doubt.  Taking his time.
Savoring the taste.  The first erotic fruits of a world-class beauty must
be savored.

Henry watched wide-eyed as the man did something one could consider either
gross or worshipful.

Henry chose to consider it the latter.

He LOVED the man's adoration!  No one had adored him like that in his life.
His mom loved him, but she was a pain too.  Plus Henry, even then, had a
notion that his Mom saw dollar signs more often than hearts when she looked
at her son.

Henry was getting a nice, warm feeling about Mr. Creampix.  His first man,
though he didn't understand the historical significance of that at the
time.  And his little peeny and tee-tees were getting a nice feeling too.

The boy was getting aroused again!

Henry noticed and was amazed.

Mr. Creampix noticed and was delighted.  The boy had the potential for
intense sexuality as well as beauty.  You can't teach that.

But he would try to develop it.

Henry's previously-expended sperm was good to the last drop and his "boy's
things" were swollen with desire.  Mr. Creampix desired them right back.

The man held the two pretty pearls in his fingertips, praised their beauty,
then kissed each testicle in turn.

Which made Henry half-swoon.

When Mr. Creampix kissed the boy's fully-skinned, deep-pink, moist
cockhead, Henry swooned the other half.

People kissed each other's privates?!?!?!?

And did it so thrillingly?!?!?!?

Henry was getting a crash course in sexuality and was an excellent student.
Though his first "lessons" mostly involved him sort of lying there as a man
adored his body and Henry squeaked and whimpered and pumped out his boy's
cream.

Which was exactly what happened when Mr. Creampix took Henry's teeny weeny
into his mouth and sucked it expertly.  While entering the boy with that
naughty middle finger again.  Only this time the finger went all the way
in.  And it struck gold.

Sort of.  Only better.

Henry's anatomy lesson continued with a course in "Introduction to the
Prostate," wherein, Henry learned that every lad has a "boy's place" deep
inside him.  If a man knows it's there...and he rubs it just
right...especially while he's doing something else really nice, such as
sucking your cock...you get an orgasm that makes the other kind seem
like...well...kid stuff.

Henry's first prostate orgasm nearly blew his skull off.

He shuddered and squealed and bounced between death and an amazing
afterlife.  Though his depleted "pretties" were only able to serve up a few
weak drools of boy juices.

OK then.

Let's stipulate that the boy liked sex.

And the man liked the boy.

Though it appeared that if the man wanted any reciprocal sex, he would have
to ask the boy for it directly.

Which he did.

Right after Henry regained his home planet.  And the new lovers kissed and
cooed.

Then, "I think you liked that, Henry," Mr. Creampix said.

Henry looked at the man with his huge, liquid eyes, gasped and nodded
eagerly.

"You're a very beautiful, loving boy and I know you don't want me to
suffer, right?"

Henry's eyes showed compassion and concern.  Though he couldn't imagine
what was wrong.  Mr. Creampix looked perfectly healthy.  He shook his head
in response.

Mr. Creampix smiled.  "You're such an angel that being with you has aroused
me terribly.  Then helping you find pleasure aroused me more.  When a man
is aroused for a long time without relief, the kind of relief you had,
well...it hurts him."

Henry was stricken!  He didn't want to hurt Mr. Creampix.  The man had just
taken him off-planet.  Three times!  But what could he...

Oh my.

Mr. Creampix lifted his shirt and showed Henry his cock.

An instrument as different from Henry's own fledgling piece as a dollar to
a doughnut.

It was huge!

The shaft was long and dark.

His balls were the size of tennis balls.

Mr. Creampix's boy-fist-sized cockhead was drooling pints of thin cream and
was nearly purple with need.

A 911 case if there ever was one.

"What should I do?" the young beauty asked the man.

"If you could just give me some relief," he said.  "With your hands would
be nice.  Your mouth would be...better.  It's up to you."

[pause for Henry to think it through] The hands thing seemed reasonable.
But was he ready to "use his mouth" on a man's big thing?

He didn't want to be selfish.  Mom had taught Henry to share.  And
Mr. Creampix had used his mouth on him.  Nicely.

Clarification needed.  "Use my mouth how, Mr. Creampix?"

Got him, Mr. Creampix thought.  But he said, "If you could just kiss the
head, maybe, as you stroked my testicles with your sweet fingers..  That
would be sure to bring me relief.  But only if you want to."

It was only fair, Henry thought as he leaned over and, tentatively at
first, kissed the man's leaky peelips.

Mr. Creampix groaned.  Which made Henry giggle a little.  And feel a little
proud too.  Because he was making the man happy.  And who doesn't enjoy
success?

Henry was enjoying great success in his efforts at giving Mr. Creampix
reciprocal pleasure.  His first little lick of the man's leaky peehole made
Mr. Creampix's cock twitch.  Which made Henry giggle..

What a fun game this was!

And everyone was a big winner.

Henry began licking off the skim-milky stuff from Mr. Creampix's cock as he
gently and thrillingly fondled the man's hairy bag.

The man's drooly stuff didn't have much of a taste, but it wasn't
unpleasant.  And it was really naughty licking his man's thing like that.
Being naughty is always the most fun, right?

Henry knew that Mr. Creampix was enjoying the boy's sweet ball-massage too.
The fat eggs felt swollen to Henry and they seemed to be stirring in
preparation for something.  Something big.

And then, with only Mr. Creampix's sharp intake of breath as a warning,
something big happened.

Really big.

And creamy.

The man did what the boy had done three times previously.  Only way more of
it.

The first two thick, creamy ropes of man's cream hit Henry squarely in his
pretty face.  Before he could even close his eyes.  Which startled the boy
and made him recoil from the suddenness and the heat of Mr. Creampix's
discharge.  Quickly, though, Henry leaned back in to inspect the new wonder
he was beholding.

Through a glaze of sperm dripping from his eyelids, Henry watched in shock
and awe as Mr. Creampix heaved out four subsequent globs of pent-up desire
for Henry.  All over the boy's hair and face.  Drooling down his chin and
onto his chest.

Oh dear.

What had Henry done?

It was bad enough to do naughty things because he needed to do them to
become a model -- which was what his mother wanted very badly.  But there
wasn't any way he could rationalize kissing Mr. Creampix's "thick thing"
until he flooded Henry with his "personal fluids."  Men and boys weren't
supposed to "do things" either.  Even young, innocent Henry knew that.

But wait.  The ability to rationalize our behavior is the one human
attribute that appears to be infinite.

Mr. Creampix had made Henry feel comfortable during his modeling "shoot."
And the man's stiff "condition" had made Mr. Creampix VERY uncomfortable.
A good boy would be fair about the comfort thing.  And Henry was a good
boy.

There.  Rationalization rules!

So it was OK to make Mr. Creampix do that amazing thing.

More than OK.

It was fabulous!

Henry had never felt so powerful in his life.  The man needed him.  No one
had ever needed Henry before.  So even though Henry was drenched with
Mr. Creampix's cum, he felt as if he were the one in charge.

Mr. Creampix was very grateful for Henry's sweet attentions.

He would have been delighted to fuck Henry.  Though that wasn't on the
agenda for that day.  Since Mr. Creampix had one of his other aspiring
models coming in for a nice, long session in 20 minutes.  Just long enough
to restore his "virility" for the welcome task of preparing the lad's
bottom for some "creamy bottom" advertisements for a whipped cream company.

Still.  It would have been nice.  Him and Henry.  [sigh] Maybe next time.

Instead, Mr. Creampix lovingly cleaned Henry up, then had him get dressed
as he told him about next steps.

"When I send these pics to the Spermsearch modeling agency, Henry, they'll
be VERY eager to hire you.  I have no doubt.  I'm hoping they'll engage me
to do your advertising photos, since I do like spending time with you.  Let
me just give you a little gift that will help you in your career.  It's
seven sets of the world's cutest, sexiest boypanties.  I think you'll enjoy
posing in them.  Looking at yourself in the mirror.  Posing.  And,
Henry...if you ever feel lonely...for a man, I mean.  Call me and I'll drop
everything to come see you.  Here's my card."

Henry blushed.  Now that he was getting dressed and ready to go back to the
outside world again, he was feeling a little ashamed of being naked and
cumming and licking a man's cock for him.  The boy took the bag of panties
and accepted the man's farewell kiss, but he didn't encourage Mr. Creampix
in any other way.

Henry was through with modeling and he was through with men.


Two -- Perhaps not entirely through with modeling or men

Mom was all full of questions when Henry and she drove home.  Thanks
goodness she didn't ask anything about "boy's things" or "boy's cream" or
"man's cream."  Henry hated to lie to Mom, but he would have to if she
asked him about "details" between him and that man.

That man.

Henry thought a lot about that man in the next 24 hours.

And, as they should, shame and guilt dissipated quite nicely.

Maybe what Henry and Mr. Creampix did wasn't really wrong after all..  How
could anything that felt so good, be wrong?

When he had gotten back to his room right after his photo session the day
before, Henry had thrown that pink shopping bag with the alleged seven
pairs of boy's panties deep into his closet.

At 4 p.m. the day after his photo shoot, Henry was in the perfect mood to
disinter the bag and examine it properly.

Mom was still at work and wouldn't be home for two hours.  Was that
"Trevor" guy going to be at their house that evening?  Probably.

Mom and Trevor had gotten quite chummy over the past six months.  Mom had
even been throwing hints that Trevor might soon be Henry's Stepdaddy.

A prospect that gave Henry mixed feelings.  Trevor was nice enough to
Henry.  And really nice to Mom.  Were they in love?  They sure spent enough
time together.  And Henry was pretty sure that Trevor spent three of four
nights each week sleeping at their house.  With Mom.  Henry knew that they
tried to be quiet, but he heard some very "funny noises" coming from Mom's
bedroom sometimes when he got up to pee.  Trevor was never there when Henry
got up in the morning, but he would be, if he became Henry's Stepdaddy.

At that moment, Henry had bigger things to think about than Trevor.  Those
panties that Mr. Creampix had given him.

In a pink bag.  With a logo that said, "Sissyboy World."  It was a
globe-thing, with tiny, naked boys circling it, like Saturn.  Were those
little erections on those boys?

Anyway, Henry opened the bag and took out a random treasure.  It was pink,
with little lacy things along the seams.  Very girly, in Henry's
estimation.  And naughty.

The boy stripped naked and looked at himself in his full-length mirror.
The boy had to admit it -- he was gorgeous and he had a beautiful body.  If
only he didn't have those puffy, girlish nipples.  Though Mr. Creampix
seemed to like them very much.

A thought that made Henry blush.  And his cock stand tall.  Should he be
thinking about what a man liked about his body?  And how a man would make
love to that body, the way Mr. Creampix had done yesterday?

Maybe.

Henry held the panties up, sort of covering his swollen penis.  They were
kind of cute.  Should he try them on?

Why not?

Oh dear.

It was all so exciting!  The panties fit perfectly, though his tiny peener
was stretching them a bit.  They were a bit skimpy in the back, showing a
full two inches of his bottom crack.

What would Mr. Creampix think if he saw Henry in those panties?  What would
he do?

Oh dear.

Henry was leaking that stuff again.  It was making a little wet spot on the
panties.  Would Mr. Creampix kiss that wet spot?  Then take off Henry's
panties and suck his boy's things?

Oh dear.

Henry removed the panties before he made a mess in them.

Anyway, there were six more pairs to try on.

He grabbed a lavender pair next.  And blushed when he saw how ultra-skimpy
they were.  Just two tiny triangles, one in front, one in back.  Tied by
thin strings.

Very naughty.

Henry slid them on, figured out how to tie them, and considered himself in
the mirror.

Oh dear.

His bottomcheeks were almost completely exposed!  His penis was barely
covered.  What would happen to Henry if he wore them to school one day,
under his trousers and his trousers went missing?  Everyone would see him
looking as he did in that mirror.  Looking helpless and vulnerable and
innocent and naughty and fucking dazzling.  The other boys and the teachers
wouldn't be able to control themselves.  Henry knew that.  They would
"ravage" him.  Whatever that meant.

What if Henry's baseball coach, Mr. Stretcher saw Henry in those lavender
panties?  The man would probably pull his cock out right there, FORCE Henry
onto his pretty knees and suck Mr. Stretcher's big, hot, hard cock!  In
front of the whole baseball team!

Oh dear.

What if Trevor saw Henry like that?  And was overcome with lust for the
boy?  Would Trevor want to make Henry "squeak and grunt" the way the man
made Henry's Mom "squeak and grunt?"

Trevor was so big and strong.  And if he was going to be Henry's Stepdaddy,
he'd be living with them.  So he'd probably "want" Henry often.  Henry
would try to resist.  But he was so small and helpless.  Trevor would have
his way with Henry, the boy just knew it.  He'd be powerless to resist the
disgusting advances of that handsome, muscular man!  All that would happen
if Trevor saw Henry in those skimpy, lavender panties!

Oh dear.

Henry didn't want to be cumming because of that ultra-naughty line of
thinking.  It was so wrong and so gay and so unfair to his Mom and would
never happen anyway because Trevor only liked women.

But it was such a powerful fantasy that Henry's sperm "left the building."
In a rather forceful way.  Drenching his panties as Henry humiliatingly
cried out, "Oh, Trevor!"

Which was only one-millionth as mortifying as what Henry heard as the last
spurt filled his lavender pretties.

"I'm here, Henry.  Trevor's here."

Oh dear.

Oh dear.

Not possible.

Does not compute.

Trevor couldn't be in the room with Henry.  Who was standing there admiring
himself.  In lavender panties.  Shooting his boy's cream while uttering the
worst possible word he could utter -- "Trevor!"

Not a lot of wiggle room on that one.

So Henry resorted to tears.

Big ones.  With heaving sobs as he contemplated his days in a punitive
orphanage for gay boys who cuckolded their mothers.

Henry's worst fears realized.  Standing in his cum-drenched, lavender,
thong panties as his stepfather-in-waiting stared at Henry.  Then there was
the matter of Henry crying out Trevor's name as the boy spunked his
panties.

A fine mess.

What would Trevor do to Henry?  Tell his mother that her son was a little
sissyboy -- creaming his panties as he fantasized about men?  Would he tell
her that Henry was "interested" in her boyfriend?  Interested enough to
call out Trevor's name as he spunked?  Would he pull the boy's panties down
and SPANK him for being such a little sissy tramp?

No, no, no and no.

Trevor stepped fully into the room, smiled at Henry and said, "Hi, Sport!"
As if Henry wasn't standing there with boy's cream rolling down both
thighs.  Sobbing in terror at his grim future.

Smiling.

Then saying, "You look absolutely beautiful in those panties, Henry..  I
see you were `relieving your tension' a little.  A boy needs to do that.
Regularly."

Smiling.

Henry thought that Trevor had a nice smile.  And he was being very nice
about the situation.  Maybe he was just going to let Henry go about his
business.  Forget about what he saw.

No.

Trevor said, "Your mother told me she started you on the path to a modeling
career, Honey.  You're very beautiful.  I just know you'll be a sissyboy
supermodel."

Henry blushed bright crimson.

"Honey?"

Trevor called him "honey!"  And said he was beautiful.

Was the man flirting with Henry?  Henry was too scared to even turn around
and face Trevor.  His eyes were downcast, the tears drooling onto the
floor.  So he didn't see in the mirror that Trevor had moved directly
behind him.

So Henry twitched when he felt Trevor's large hand on his delicate, right
shoulder.  And let out a loud sob.  Though the hand felt kind of nice
there.  Especially when its twin touched his left shoulder..

Henry trembled.  Fearing what was next.  Yet hoping that it would be
something very nice.  The same kind of "nice" he got from Mr. Creampix.

Trevor's hands rubbed Henry's shoulders as he said, "You're so beautiful,
Henry.  You'll be an international star soon enough.  I hope you'll
remember me when you are.."

It was then that Henry said something that both he and Trevor thought Henry
was incapable of saying.  "Only if you give me something to remember you,
Trevor."

Huh?

Where did that come from?

Henry shocked both himself and Trevor with that one.

The man recovered first.

Trevor let his hands slide down the boy's arms, then let his fingers rest
on the boy's puffy nipples.  Rubbing them.  Tweaking them gently.  As
Trevor kissed Henry's sweet neck.

Henry moaned.

The "ice" between man and boy was smashed into many pieces.

Trevor continued tweaking Henry's left nipple as he slid his right hand
down the boy's tummy and entered his pantied privates with loving fingers.
Finding the boy's cum-coated cockhead.  Skinning it prettily with thumb and
forefinger, then rubbing it very nicely.

Oh dear.

Henry was whimpering most unmanfully as Trevor teased and toyed.  Then, in
one bold action, the man turned the boy toward him, placed his hands on
each of Henry's buttcheeks and carried him to his bed.  Laying Henry onto
his back.  Dropping his own trousers, then pulling off his shoes, socks and
shirt.

More naked than the boy, whose pretty bits were still nominally covered by
his cream-soaked, lavender panties.

Henry lay on his back.  Helpless.  Awaiting the lust-crazed passion of his
"ravager."

Henry's heady mix of fear and lust brought the boy's cock back to its full
vigor.

The young beauty's eyes were wide open.  He didn't want to miss one moment
of his imminent ravishment.

It was 4:20.  Mom would be home at 6.

In one sense, plenty of time, though there would never be enough for what
men and boys love to do together.

Any benign ravishment begins with some torridly hot, naked kissing.

And Trevor and Henry enjoyed a deliciously hot, lip-and-tongue intercourse.

Trevor was an excellent kisser.  And he had been dreaming of that moment
with Henry for an extraordinarily long time.

When Trevor met Heather Tightbum, they connected nicely.  Trevor was
looking for a stable relationship...with a woman...he thought.  Heather was
a great fuck.

So he was already 90% sold on Heather.  Then he met Henry.  Which moved the
commitment needle to 1,000,000,000%.

Trevor was in love.  With Heather.  Sort of.  But he was ridiculously and,
he thought, hopelessly in love with Henry.  The sexiest human being on
earth, in Trevor's view.

Whenever he fucked Heather, which was often, he imagined he was fucking
Henry.  Facially, there were enough similarities that he could sustain the
illusion.

Trevor knew it was all self-delusion.  But so is a lot of stuff in our
lives.

Trevor would never fuck Henry.  Or even kiss him properly.  But at least,
if he married Heather, he'd be around the boy a lot.

Which was worth it all to Trevor.

Then, a few days earlier, Heather told Trevor that she was seeking a
modeling career for her son.  Trevor knew what that meant.  He had seen the
ads of pretty boys.  All of them.  Selling in panties.  Selling naked.
Selling with their own boy's cream on them and even [gasp] certain ads with
man's cream all over them.

Henry was going to be a sissyboy.  At age 10.  A situation in which almost
any pretty boy, given the opportunity, would thrive.

And Trevor, if he played things right, would be part of the boy's
development.

So there was no doubt that he would leave work early that day, use the
house key Heather had given him.  And see if Henry needed a "guide" to the
new world the boy was soon to inhabit.

Imagine Trevor's joy when he saw Henry admiring himself, wearing lavender
thong panties, then crying out Trevor's name as he spunked his panties.

More joy to follow.

Slowly, reverently Trevor peeled off the front triangle of Henry's panties.
The boy's penis was tiny, but robust.  His penile privates were glossed
with a very healthy portion of immature sperm.  His five stringy testicle
hairs hosted sweet pearls of sperm.

If Trevor hadn't been in love before, that would have done it.  Henry's
little whimpers punctuated Trevor's lust.

Trevor's instincts kicked in.  He leaned over and, with full veneration,
began to kiss, lick and suck Henry's entire pubic area.

Oh dear.

Trevor was making Henry very "hot and bothered."  VERY!  Trevor had planned
and dreamed about how he would suck his dream boy's penis and balls.  But
he discarded his plan and relied on the boy's reactions to his oral ardor.
Whenever the boy whimpered and moaned appreciatively, Trevor knew he was
doing great deeds.  The best plan in sex is...do what feels good.  For both
of you.

Henry was having an awfully good time.  With only fleeting thoughts of the
deep hole his mother would bury Trevor and him in if she caught them.  And
even fewer and more fleeting thoughts of the "propriety" of man-boy sex,
both as a concept and as his reality.

Just pleasure.

Lots of it.

And then the inevitable, screaming orgasm that reaffirms a man's manliness,
as it makes the boy very, very happy.

The boy was amazingly hot, with a hair-trigger pleasure response.

If Trevor didn't fuck the boy that very day, someone else would take his
virginity.  Establishing an eternal bond with Henry.  The bond that Trevor
coveted.

So he had to fuck Henry!

It was the right thing to do!

Trevor desperately hoped Henry agreed.  The fucking wouldn't happen if the
boy didn't want it.  No matter how desperate the man was to deposit his
seed in the most beautiful sperm receptacle on earth..

Trevor knew that proper preparation of that sweet spot was the key to a
good fucking.  Or any fucking.  So he gave Henry a nice, long cummy kiss,
praising his beauty as he teased Henry's twice-spunked peeny a bit.  Then
he gently rolled Henry onto his tummy and began to make love to the boy's
flip side.

He rubbed Henry's shoulders with his strong hands, making Henry purr.  Then
he kissed his way down Henry's back and the fleshy middles of each glorious
bottomcheek.  Making Henry whimper and gasp.  Oh.  That almost made Trevor
lose something he was saving for a special place.

Trevor thought about giving the boy's pretty feet the adoration they
deserved, but one glance at the clock made him move the agenda along.

It was time to prepare the boy's anus to make a new best friend.

But first, young Mr. Tightbum would meet his second best friend -- Trevor's
tongue!

After his "good time" with Mr. Creampix the previous day, Henry was
thinking that Trevor would be putting his fingers into Henry's "special
wrinkly" at any moment.  Exploring in a manner that would excite Henry in a
very big way.  Henry was eager for that!  His prostate orgasm the day
before had convinced Henry that there was life on other planets.  He had
visited them.

But wait.

Trevor had parted Henry's thighs and was admiring the delicious, rear view.
The man paused to admire Henry's pretty danglers!  And the gorgeous cheeks
that framed the epicenter of a man's pleasure -- his sissyboy lover's
hospitable anus.

At least Trevor hoped it would be hospitable.  Once he "prepared" it
properly.

Time to begin.

Henry expected fingers in his bottom. Probing fingers.  Making him wince
with terrifying ecstasy as they massaged his most special place.

He got tongue, not fingers.

Which surprised the boy.  Then delighted him.  Trevor's tongue was wet and
active.  And the thought of a man actually licking out his asshole was off
the "dirty chart" in Henry's estimation.  Just thinking that a man would do
something that "nasty," just to please Henry made the boy's ears burn.

Plus there was the matter of Trevor's tongue performing archeological
functions in Henry's asshole.  Digging for treasures.  Finding them.  Henry
squirmed and squeaked as he was eaten out for the first time in his
luscious life.

Oh the depraved intimacy of it all!

It was almost overpowering -- for both lovers.  Trevor had dreamed of
tasting Henry's anal juices for months.  The man had eaten out Henry's
mother's pussy many times -- pretending she was Henry.  Three times,
Heather had even submitted to Trevor licking out her anus, though her
majesty, in typical female fashion, didn't deign to allow Trevor's cock the
same anal privileges.

Trevor was pretty sure Henry was about to grant Trevor full access to
paradise.

If the boy's whimpering submission and cries of delight were any predictor.

Though there was more warmup to be done before the full workout.

Trevor stopped licking out Henry's bumhole, then told Henry, "I'll be right
back."

Henry's bottomhole was only lonely for less than 30 seconds.

Trevor returned with a bottle of some lotion or something, Henry surmised.
What was that for?

He peeked over his shoulder and saw Trevor slathering the "lotion" on three
fingers of his right hand.  Through a haze of passion, the boy saw the
label -- "Spermbutt?"  Was that what it said?  What was...

Oh dear.

Trevor had entered Henry's anus with two "Spermbutted" fingers and Henry
cried out with raw lust.  It was like what Mr. Creampix had done to/for
Henry yesterday, only nicer.  A nice, steady, loving rub on that place
inside Henry that made the boy's guts boil..

Trevor added the third finger and used all three to widen the opening, all
the while, tormenting Henry's prostate.  Pushing Henry toward...there.  It
was upon Henry.  That awesome feeling.  Henry didn't resist.  He just let
himself fall down into the volcano, then be blasted out of it.  Draining
not only Henry'd tiny balls, but also his will to resist anything Trevor
had in mind.

Trevor knew that his best chance to fuck Henry was in the final throes of
his third orgasm of that wonderful coupling.  So Trevor took his best
chance.  Rapidly slathering Spermbutt onto his aching cock.  Sliding up
behind the exhausted boy, lifting Henry's hips and then, before Henry could
"do the math," Trevor slid his slick, huge cock into Henry's slick,
miniscule asshole.

Spermbutt did an excellent job.  "Just enough friction, just enough glide"
as their ad copy says.

This reviewer gives it five stars.

But it could not work miracles.

Henry screamed in mortal fear as he felt his insides ripped into at least
two uneven pieces.  Perhaps more.

At least that was what it felt like to Henry.

To Trevor, it felt as if it was Christmas morning and he had just spotted
his new, red bicycle under the tree.

The Eagle had landed.

On a moon that refused to stay still.  Or stop screaming.

At first.

Henry explored the furnaces of perdition for about 90 screaming wriggling
seconds.  The next 90 were sharply painful.  The next 90 produced a dull
ache.  Then 90 second of neutral.

Not so bad.

A "stuffed" feeling.  Strong urge to poop.  But when Trevor began to rub
Henry's prostate with his fat cock, all was well.  Better than well.  It
was excellent.

For both of them.  It was hands-down the best fuck of Trevor's life.  Tight
and hot.  With a feeling of domination that stirs a "top's" testicles like
nothing else.

It was Henry's first fuck.  And he had already forgotten the pain.  Since
he was grunting his way to the biggest, slapdown orgasm recorded in their
town that calendar year.

Henry's exhausted cock wasn't the least bit hard.  And his empty balls were
only able to produce a thin trickle of watery drool.  But he orgasmed so
hard that graves opened in every nearby cemetery.

Which made Trevor produce his own proud tribute to Henry's beauty and
sexual docility.

Flooding Henry's bowels.  Making the boy sob and shudder and scream out his
sexual heat.

Oh dear.

Mom would be home in 35 minutes.  The prudent thing to do would have been
to kiss for a bit, clean the sheets and shower.  A forensics scrub-up.

Henry didn't care.  He sucked his own anal juices and Trevor's cum off the
man's cock, producing a respectable "fresh stand," then got onto his back,
lifted his knees and begged Trevor to mount him and fuck him.

They finished their delightful coupling a mere five minutes before Mom's
return.  Then scurried to clean up.  Unconvincingly.

Heather Tightbum was no dope.  Her nose was quite functional and a
cum-filled room with air freshener sprayed over it smells like a cum-filled
room with air freshener sprayed over it.

And Henry's boy shorts had a big wet spot at the anus.

In Heather's view, Trevor was expendable.  Henry's willingness to pursue
his modeling career was the real prize.

Heather smiled at the further evidence of Henry's willingness to please
men.  A VITAL component of his suitability for sissyboy modeling.

On to Spermsearch!


I welcome your comments at beautifulcreamer@yahoo.com.

Other stories on nifty:

"Sweetyboys" (gay young friends) August 31, 2007
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"Pretty" (gay adult-youth) May 21, 2008
"Hotel Management" (gay adult-youth) June 2, 2008
"Dating Pretty Boys" (gay young friends) July 2, 2008
"Sissyboy Stepson" (gay adult-youth) July 30, 2008
"Sissyboy Showoff" (gay adult-youth) August 14, 2008
"Sissyboy Sleepover" (gay incest) August 26, 2008
"Cockteaser's Comeuppance" (gay adult-youth) September 5, 2008
"Schoolboy Pleasures" (gay adult-youth) October 23, 2008
"Home-Schooled Sissyboys" (gay incest) October 25, 2008
"Sissyboy-Daddy Reunion" (gay incest) November 24, 2008
"Sissyboy Shooting Lessons (gay adult youth) December 4, 2008
"Stepson Seduction" (gay incest) December 13, 2008
"The New Sissyboy" (gay incest) December 22, 2008
"Sissyboy Hangout" (gay incest) February 13, 2009
"The Little Prickpleaser" (gay incest) February 20, 2009
"Twelve" (gay incest) March 10, 2009
"Sissyboy Facts of Life" (gay incest) March 11. 2009
"Lord Upcock's Darlings" (gay adult-youth) March 12, 2009
"Sissyboy Spunk Party" (gay adult-youth) March 20, 2009
"Corporate Cockpleasers" (gay adult-youth) April 1, 2009
"Sissyboy Nephews" (gay incest) May 5, 2009
"Sissyboy Restitution" (gay adult-youth) May 9, 2009
"Sissyboy Pediatrics" (gay adult-youth) May 14, 2009
"Next-Door Sissyboy" (gay incest) May 19, 2009
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"Try Boys" (gay adult-youth) May 27, 2009