Date: Wed, 14 Jul 2021 00:04:24 +0000 From: Beau Kramer Subject: Sissyboy Variants (gay adult-youth) Sissyboy Variants One (Gay-adult-youth} By Beautiful Creamer I don't do this stuff and you shouldn't either. What you should do is donate to nifty. NOTE: If viruses can have variants, so can nifty stories. I have a couple of unconventional plot ideas for stories that will go under this title. One -- The Counselor's office then Mr. Freudish looked forward to his scheduled counseling session that day with young Thomas Pinprick. Thomas was one of the prettiest boys who would ever grace his office during his 23-year service as Stonewall Elementary School's guidance counselor. And glorious years they had been. Mr. Freudish had been a witness to...no...make that a participant in history. And the great evolution of attitudes about sex between boys and men. When Mr. Freudish started out, in the dark days before Spermbutt Anal Lubricant, the Try Boys movement and the Twenty-Ninth Amendment to the Constitution that lowered the age of consent for boys to ten years and three months, a typical counseling session would go like this: Lovely young Jimmy, a deliciously beautiful, slim, but wide-bummed ten-year old would, after much encouragement, reveal his "problem." "My Daddy is MOLESTING me, Mr. Freudish!!!" young Jimmy would sob out. Mr. Freudish, being a kind, loving man, would offer Jimmy the comfort of a hug. Hugs are even nicer if the huggee sits on the hugger's lap. By which time, the hugger and the huggee both had fierce erections. Mr. Freudish understood why he was erect. Jimmy's cock understood completely. Jimmy and his ilk understood almost nothing about the reason for their sexual arousal at that moment. The kind-hearted Mr. Freudish was more than willing to translate Jimmy's cock's signals for Jimmy. "I'm so sorry, Jimmy. I'm sure your Daddy loves you. Perhaps you misunderstood him. Will you show me why you think he molested you?" [Through sniffles] "OK, Mr. Freudish. Well, I had just gotten home from school and Daddy pulled down my pants and..." "Let me interrupt, you, sweetheart," the concerned counselor said. "I said SHOW me what he did. Pull your pants down so I can fully understand." Jimmy was startled. Had Mr. Freudish just asked him to pull down his pants? Showing the man Jimmy's Star Wars underpants and bare legs? That would be wrong, wouldn't it? The boy opened his mouth to protest. But Mr. Freudish had driven down that street before. "It's OK, Jimmy. I'm your counselor and I'm trying to help you through re-creation therapy. If you don't want me to help you, I respect that." [Pause] Jimmy thought, "He's my counselor and he knows all about stuff like that re-creation therapy. I guess it's all right." So Jimmy gave the lecherous lecher a very green light. "OK, Mr. Freudish," Jimmy said. "I want you to help me." "Very good, Jimmy. So what did your Daddy do next?" [Gulp] "He told me I was beautiful and ORDERED me to take my shirt, shoes and socks off so I was naked except for my underpants." "OK. Go ahead." Jimmy was terrified and half sobbing, but he had agreed to that therapy stuff. So he stripped to his underpants. Oh my. Mr. Freudish took a timeout to ogle the pretty boy. Jimmy was trembling and wished that the man would get on with his therapy. Mr. Freudish shoved his brain back to the task and said, "How did you feel?" "I was scared and humiliated. Just like I am now, Mr. Freudish." "Did you have an erection then as you do now, young man?" Jimmy sobbed the sobbing of the truly humiliated. "I guess I did, sir. But I don't know why I've had either stiffy." "Our penises rarely listen to our brains, Jimmy. They have a will of their own. Perhaps there is some part of what happened to you that excited you sexually." "Oh no," Jimmy thought. "Am I gay?" Mr. Freudish knew exactly what was in Jimmy's thoughts and said, "None of that means you're gay, Honey. Let's discuss what else happened." Jimmy paused. And took a glance at Mr. Freudish's crotch. "Oh dear," Jimmy thought. "He has a stiffy too! A really big one! Does my nearly naked body excite him? Is that why he called me `Honey?'" Jimmy cleared his throat and continued. "Then Daddy put his hand into the seat of my underpants and rubbed my heinie." "Did your Daddy then move his hand or hands to your penis and testicles and molest those too?" [Sob] "He did all that next! I'm so ashamed!" "No need to be ashamed my sweet darling. It wasn't your fault. But let's examine what happened a little more closely, shall we?" What did Mr. Freudish mean by... Oh! The man's hand had slipped into Jimmy's briefs and he was caressing the boy's soft, pink pillows. Mr. Freudish believed what he was doing was caressing. Jimmy would still call it molesting. Molesting of the nicer variety though. The boy's cock was outrageous. Just as it had been with Daddy. Soon enough, Mr. Freudish was handling Jimmy's boy's things just like Daddy had. But somehow better. The boy involuntarily issued a soft moan. Got `im, Mr. Freudish said to himself. One more question, "Did your father kiss you while he was molesting you, my young beauty?" Jimmy grunted out a yes. Mr. Freudish moved in for a deep, very tonguey kiss. Which Jimmy returned through instinct and arousal. The kisses. The way the counselor was running Jimmy's foreskin up and down. Tickling Jimmy's cockhead so nicely. In short order, Jimmy squealed "Oh, sir!" And squirted his molten boy's cream all over the man's hand and his Star Wars underpants. Darth Vader had a cum beard. Mr. Freudish kept masturbating masterfully until the boy's last tremor had passed. Jimmy didn't speak at first. Then he said, "Oh, Mr. Freudish. I'm so ashamed." Mr. Freudish hugged Jimmy and said, "Nonsense, my angel. That's what boys do when someone caresses their private things just right. Did you make boy's cream for your Daddy too?" Through a sad face, Jimmy said, "Yes. But yours was nicer." After a good 20 minutes of praise and consolation, Mr. Freudish went for the gold. "Did your Daddy stop caressing you after you spunked?" "He did, sir. I went right to bed and planned how I was going to tell you." "So he really didn't get to show you any of the good stuff." [Pause] [Boyish curiosity builds.] "What do you mean good stuff?" "Let me show you, Beautiful. I'll sit here and you stand facing me. Closer. Perfect." Mr. Freudish lowered Jimmy's underpants to mid-thigh. Without protest. Then, with the boldness that comes from confidence, the man consumed the boy's half-stiff, still-cum-coated penis. And licked. And sucked. And kissed. Until poor Jimmy was cumming again. Hard! "Oh dear," poor Jimmy and his ilk would think. "It's true. I must be gay. Well, I might as well enjoy it." So Jimmy and almost all the other Jimmies over the years, submitted to the satisfaction of a wide variety of Mr. Freudish's filthy urges and disgusting needs. The truly "good stuff." The Jimmies were then. Thomas Pinprick was now. Two -- Modern Counseling It became a rare day indeed that Mr. Freudish got to invite a somewhat virginal "Jimmy" to his office for counseling and send the boy back to class 90 minutes later with a leaky anus beautifying the seat of his pants. Oh, sure. Mr. Freudish still had more boy pussy than any man deserved. But most of the time, boys were actively seducing him. He shouldn't complain about that too much, right? But Mr. Freudish liked to hunt, not just be fed. Maybe young Mr. Pinprick was in the outer office waiting to tell Mr. Freudish that his Daddy was molesting him and he didn't want molestation. Just like the old days. Mr. Freudish was almost right. The beautiful, ten-years-and-seven-months-old fifth grader sat facing Mr. Freudish and tears fell from the lovely lad's eyes. "Mr. Freudish," the boy sobbed, "My Daddy [gasp] he [moan] won't molest me." What! Mr. Freudish was startled. The law in their state supported a Daddy's right to fuck the bum off his ten-years-and-three-months-old son. With the boy's consent, of course. A consent, a recent survey said, that 95.2% of boys gave almost immediately after coming of age. Mr. Freudish experienced severe cognitive dissonance. Thomas was so beautiful. Thomas desperately wanted his Daddy's cock up his pretty bum. Was Daddy crazy? Maybe he was impotent? No way. His tongue couldn't be impotent. He could have at least licked the boy's knob or tongued his bumhole lovingly. Mr. Freudish and any teacher will tell you -- the kids aren't the problem...it's the parents. The counselor considered referring the matter to the local Child Abuse Hotline. But sensed there would be better and more cuddles with Thomas if he tried to help Thomas more personally. "Have you asked your Daddy to fuck you, my sweet angel?" "Oh, yes, sir. I wanted Daddy to `take my cherry,' but he flat-out refused." "Has your Daddy tried to stop you from exercising your right to anal and oral homosexual sex?" "Not at all [sniffle]. He even bought me a queen-sized bed and a dozen gallons of Spermbutt Anal Lubricant. He encourages me to bring men to the house for overnight fucking in my room." "What does your mother think about all this, Honeybun?" "My mother and father never got along. Mom ran away with the pizza- delivery man when I was seven." "I'm so sorry. I would like to speak to your father. But first, I'll need at least one brief fucking now and an overnight fuck session in your room so I can accurately describe for him what he's missing." "I thought you would never ask," Thomas said as he stripped off all his clothes. Three -- Whys and wherefores The next day - Thomas and Mr. Freudish had fucked like condemned Tribbles the afternoon of their first counseling session. Mr. Freudish, because of his temporary exhaustion, proposed that the two lovers adjourn to Thomas's home for that agreed-upon overnight fuck session that very night. But no. Thomas had a date for that night and would never break a date that late. The compassionate lad worried that such a disappointment could severely affect one of his lovers' health. Let's face it. Some of the boy's bumfuckers were almost 40! He worried sometimes when they were fucking Thomas really hard that they would need the defibrillator paddles that were on the wall in Thomas's bedroom. The next night was scheduled for Mr. Freudish's fact-finding fucking with Thomas. Thomas's Daddy was fine with his lovely son fucking the school counselor. But made sure Thomas understood that it was a no-dinner date. Daddy was hospitable, but wasn't going to fuss over a "company" meal for a first date. Daddy was smart. He knew that less than one quarter of Thomas's first dates ever got a second date. The boy was picky. And super randy. And fuck-needy. Despite only four months legal fuckability, the boy already had high standards. So when Mr. Freudish reported to Thomas's house at 7 that next evening, he barely met Thomas's Daddy. Mr. Freudish still learned things about Daddy. Even from his handshake. And the house's décor. But that was the professional portion of his evening. Mr. Freudish was ready for recreation, not re-creation. Recreation of the best kind. Thomas was eager to flex his sex muscles with Mr. Freudish. The man was WAY older than his other lovers. He was 48, the other sissies in school told Thomas. They knew, of course, from pillow talk after Mr. Freudish fucked them. Thomas didn't mind. He wasn't magnanimous, or monochromatic or monotonous or whatever that word was. He fucked around and so did his lovers. But he could certainly have favorites. And, based on their in-school session, the man was definitely favorite material. The two randy first-daters scooted into Thomas's bedroom. Thomas locked the door. He didn't have to do that, since Daddy would never interfere. But it always made the men feel safer. Mr. Freudish was naked in a jiffy. Thomas, who apparently aspired to be a pole-dancer, gave Mr. Freudish a nice strip show. Then the boy eased his penis pouch up and over his stiff friend, and dropped his pretty, sky-blue panties into a puddle on the floor. Thomas was very impressed with Mr. Freudish's broad, hairy, ultra-fit chest. It was all new to Thomas since he and Mr. Freudish hadn't removed their tops for their one-day-earlier fuck. Mr. Freudish was very impressed with Thomas's astonishingly puffy, large, hard and dark nipples. Instinct got the ball in motion. Mr. Freudish moved forward and consumed Thomas's naked body with his arms and a very wet, deep kiss. In their haste the previous afternoon, Mr. Freudish and Thomas could only share a rudimentary love session. Ninety minutes is an instant for a skilled, experienced boylover. Mr. Freudish was given carte blanche by Thomas's Daddy. The whole weekend if he and Thomas wanted it. The master would have his canvas and the tools and time to produce a masterpiece. The man took his time. And schooled young Thomas on how a real man loves his sissyboy. "Let's see what steps the louts who dated this young beauty skipped so they could empty their bags quickly, then run home to their wives and kids," the somewhat competitive educator said to himself. Mr. Freudish retrieved his trousers momentarily and extracted a 12-ounce plastic bottle from a pocket. "Lie on your back, sweet darling, and let me love you," the man said. The boy shivered with lust. Then complied eagerly. Thomas trembled with anticipation. The word around school was that Mr. Freudish was the most experienced and best boylover in a hundred-mile radius. Thomas intended to verify that rumor that very evening. It would prove to be an easy assessment. Mr. Freudish began the evening's love festival by squirting a small dollop of the baby oil onto Thomas's right nipple. Oh! Thomas arched his back just from the feel of warm oil oozing onto his erogenous nipple. Much further back=arching and some soft moaning occurred when the man rubbed the oil (and the nipple) with two fingertips. When the man lubricated, then stroked the boy's left nipple simultaneously with the right, all Heaven broke loose. The boy's eyes grew wide. He grunted out something unintelligible. Then Thomas convulsed, squealed, and began pumping sperm. Lots of sperm. All over his chest and stomach. All the way up to his cummy nipples. Just from having his nipples molested properly. It was going to be a great evening. Moving slowly, Mr. Freudish didn't have Thomas completely baby-oiled for 48 more boy-sperm-filled minutes. Thomas was particularly responsive to his lover's oily massage of his buttocks. Followed by a lengthy tease before tickling the boy's anus, then entering with three insolent fingers. Oh dear. Mr. Freudish began to worry that Thomas's testicles would be bone-dry when it came time for the man to suck out and swallow all the remaining spunk in the boy's "cherry basket." He needn't have worried. Thomas's sperm factories were working three shifts a day to keep his peehole spouting ammunition. He gave Mr. Freudish the nicest, fullest load to swallow when the man completed his foreplay in preparation for the world-class fucking they both needed. When the oral act was done, and the boy's cum was running down the man's throat as well as his chin, Mr. Freudish kissed Thomas's peelips most tenderly, then said "I'm going to fuck you now, my darling. On your back so you'll know who's in charge." Thomas giggled with happiness. He loved being fucked. He loved being submissive during a fuck. He loved the missionary position (best kissing, bottom rubs cock against top's hairy belly, good penetration). And he seemed to be loving Mr. Freudish more with every joyous ball-draining. Thomas scooted into position, lifting his hips so that Mr. Freudish could slide two pillows under the pretty boy's hips in order to improve the fuck angle. Mr. Freudish stepped out of bed briefly to grab a gallon bottle of Spermbutt Anal Lubricant. He only used half a gallon lubing Thomas's ass and his cock. The man regretted not eating the boy's ass out before the fucking, but two much foreplay is as bad as none at all. Besides, a good butt munching will fill a recovery gap for the man between fuckings. Anyway, greased and beyond randy, Mr. Freudish shoved his cock into Thomas. Thomas closed his eyes, drew in his breath, threw his arms around his man and said, "So good!" No pain. Good preparation. Lots of fuck lust. Mmmm. A delicious coupling ensued. And was repeated several times throughout the night and early morning. They fell in love. Which is no surprise. What happened next, however, was a big surprise. Four -- Why Daddy won't molest True to his promise, Thomas's Daddy did not disturb the carnal couple. Or wake them up. So it was 11:06 am when the need for food briefly overtook the need to fuck and the fucked-out two appeared for breakfast. After a night of glorious sex and enough pillow talk for Mr. Freudish to form a preliminary diagnosis regarding Thomas's "Daddy won't fuck me" problem. What he saw when he and Thomas entered the kitchen instantly confirmed his hypotheses. And stunned him simultaneously. "Good morning, gentlemen. I know you must be hungry after all that fucking. And the noise! From the way you screamed, Thomas, Mr. Freudish must have shagged you five times." Thomas giggled. "It was six times, Daddy. Plus two creamy loads in my mouth. This is a real man." Daddy sighed. "I can see that, Honey. Well, sit down. I have pancakes and sausages. Orange juice and coffee." "Thanks, Daddy." A perfect little domestic scene. A father and son sitting down to breakfast with the son's sleepover guest. But at that moment, Mr. Henry Freudish entered THE TWILIGHT ZONE. [Sorry. "The Twilight Zone" is on Netflix now and, well, you know...] Daddy didn't look at all like a Daddy. Or even the man he had been when Mr. Freudish met Mr. Pinprick. The humanoid serving Thomas and Mr. Freudish was a...dare I say it.... woman! And a darned fine-looking one too. If you go in for that sort of thing. Apparently, despite a 23-year gap since he had fucked a woman, Mr. Freudish felt the last heterosexual muscle in his body twitch. Henry was attracted to the woman! At that moment, more so than he was attracted to Thomas. The boy Henry had fucked seven times and cum in his mouth thrice more. Thomas low-balled him a little on the stats, but he was OK with that. He was also OK with the strange pancake maker standing on her high heels. Showing off her huge mane of blond hair. Her tight miniskirt and her long, black-stockinged legs. But most of all, her hauntingly beautiful, perfectly made-up face. Who was she? Why was she here? Did she like 48 year-old men who have had only anal sex for 23 years? And why...why...did Thomas call her "Daddy?" Mr. Freudish, who had enough street wisdom to fuck boys illegally for 18 years and never even get a jaywalking ticket, finally put it together. Blonde Babe was Thomas's father, dressed like a woman. Clearly a familiar sight for Thomas. Who seemed to have withheld that reasonably salient bit of information when presenting his issue of domestic celibacy to his counselor. At ten years and three months they're ready to fuck, but have the common sense of someone who is ten years and three months old. It was time to put the cards on the table. Which Henry wanted to do without upsetting Thomas's Daddy. Because he wanted to fuck Thomas's Daddy. Now more than ever. Big validation for Henry too. His first alleged hetero crush in decades turns out to be a guy. The world stays on its axis. So, the cards. "I don't know what to call you when you're dressed so beautifully, Mr. Pinprick." Oh! Did Thomas's Daddy just blush? He did. "I prefer Susan, if that's all right." "A lovely name, Susan. I presume Thomas told you why I was counseling him." "Of course. He thinks that because I won't have sex with him, I don't love him. That's not true." "I'm sure it's not, Susan. I know the reason. Shall I say it out loud?" Thomas jumped in before Susan could answer. "Is it the incest, Daddy? Male to male incest is no big deal, Daddy. It's legal in our state." "No, Honey. It's not the incest. It's..." "Is it the idea of wrecking the parent-child relationship?" "No, it's..." Henry broke in and said, "Your both bottoms. It would never work." Susan whispered out a "That's it." Thomas slumped in his chair and said, "I never thought of that." [OK. I know some of you are thinking, "This Thomas guy couldn't spell cat if you spotted him the C and the A. But he sounds like a great fuck." And you would be right.] At last, everyone was dealing with a fully defined problem. Sitting around the kitchen table. Thinking. Thomas and his Daddy were waiting for Henry to say something smart. And they weren't disappointed. He said, to Susan, "Are you seeing anyone right now, Honey?" Susan gasped. Was this big, strong, smart, handsome, highly fuckable man FLIRTING with Susan? In front of her dim but beautiful son? Whom the man had fucked early and often? He was! She flirted back. "I've left my calendar open for you, Mr. Freudish." "Call me Henry, please, Miss Susan. Let's go in the living room and sit on that love seat to discuss our first date." Tottering in her five-inch-stiletto sandals, Susan wiggled her way into the living room and sat all of one inch from Henry. Leaving Thomas sitting in the kitchen. Dirty dishes and pots stacked. Wondering whether Mr. Freudish would ever fuck him again. Spoiler alert ---- They did fuck again. Often. And gloriously. Being a good sport, Thomas stuck what he could into the dishwasher and threw the rest of the dirty plates and pots into the garbage can outside. Then he called his good friend Mr. Shagwell, who had a nice apartment nearby. Thomas preferred that his men fuck him in his room, but it was messy that Saturday morning. Very messy. And his Daddy probably wouldn't be changing any sheets for Thomas over the next 48 hours or so. Mr. Shagwell picked Thomas up in 15 minutes and the house was left to Mr. Freudish and Mrs. Pinprick. Five -- Henry and Susan The two grown-ups sat side-by side on the narrow love seat. Both a little nervous at the unfamiliar situation they faced. Susan hadn't had a date with a man since she was in college 15 years earlier. She confessed that to Henry, whose internal thoughts on the matter were less than selfless. "She must be tighter than a snare drum back there," he imagined lustfully. Henry had never dated a transvestite. Had thought about it, but dismissed it as "too girly" for him. Henry, you see, had relatively low standards when it came to his sex partners. One needn't be a "ten" to grace his bed. A six or a seven would do nicely. A four or a five in a pinch. Heck, even a one, two or three is way better than an empty bed. His father's advice inspired him to have a far better night than he would have should he follow "guy instinct." Henry's father counseled him by saying, "If you're ever in a bar and you meet a woman who's interested, but she doesn't meet your standards...lower your standards." Henry Freudish lived by those words. Except substitute "sissyboy" for "woman" and "elementary school" for "bar." He didn't need any standards-dropping with Susan. Just panty-dropping. Henry leaned over and kissed Susan on the mouth once. Closed mouth. And she stood up, lifted her skirt, and pulled her panties down over her stiffie (which Henry had not yet seen or touched) and garter straps and lowered the pink treasures to mid-thigh. Susan was clearly an advocate of the "it's not really kissing until the cocks come out" school. She fished out Henry's rammer and offered Henry full access to hers. Such as it was. You'll note that we have yet to provide statistics on penis length thus far. This is the appropriate moment for that key information that nifty readers seem to need. Mr. Freudish's peener was not a size champion. A mere 6.15 inches. Which was great since he was fucking the youngest legal sissyboys, who hadn't been "open for business" very long. Thomas Pinprick's pin prick was tiny. 1.34 inches resting. 2.57 inches when angry. Henry had no ruler with him that day, but he was sure that Susan's beef bayonet was even smaller than her son's! Susan's foreskin was longer than her knobhead, giving her penis the look of a wilting, closed-up flower. Susan's testicles were suitably tiny as well. But Henry was about to be surprised at their ability to load and reload Susan's spermatic weapon. All in all, Susan had the penis of a nine-year old boy. Small, but delicious nevertheless. Pink and pretty. With weeping peelips that begged for kisses. Henry accepted the kind offer. Kissing and licking Susan's tininess until she was squealing and squirting large drafts of sperm and semen into Henry's delighted mouth. Thank goodness Susan refused to initiate her son into the deliciousness of homosexual sex. The poor lad would have gotten some understated data about the pleasures of being ass-fucked. He wouldn't have felt anything. Susan definitely felt something when Henry ate her ass for 36 glorious minutes then plunged his big boy into the tightest ass the man had ever entered. Henry was in love. For the second time that day. First with a sissyboy. Then with the sissyboy's father dressed as a mother. Susan wasn't sure if she loved Henry. But she knew she loved his cock. Six -- The sissyboy spunk party three weeks later "Are you sure you want to do this, Daddy?" Thomas asked. "I do, Honey. Very much. I've enjoyed `being with' Mr. Freudish these past three weeks, but it's time I started acting like a responsible parent again." Thomas smiled to himself at his Daddy's response. The boy knew that "being with" meant having sex at least four hours each day with Mr. Freudish, which was a bit more than being with. He also knew that, regardless of where they were going that Saturday afternoon, Daddy and Mr. Freudish would be back at it on Sunday afternoon. Still, Thomas's Daddy was right about one thing. He was being a responsible parent again. You see, Thomas was the sort of young beauty who was invited to a sissyboy spunk party every night of the week. He turned down those invitations to mini-gay-adult-youth orgies, where he could have been guaranteed four or five excellent fucks from excellent boyfuckers because he was ashamed. Ashamed that [gasp] he would have to attend the party without his [sob] Daddy. It's well known throughout "the literature" that all small-dicked, girlish sissyboys have hunky, handsome, double-digit-dick daddies. Anyone who took biology in tenth grade knows that's not how genetics works. Thomas's fate was linked to a Daddy sissier than Thomas was. Thomas was delightfully surprised when Daddy announced that he had accepted an invitation on behalf of them both. To the Sperminghams' Saturday night sissyboy spunk party that very Saturday! The A-list party in town!! With the prettiest, randiest boys and the hunkiest men! Thomas was so grateful to Daddy. He hugged and kissed him. And, when Daddy became aroused, Thomas sucked his Daddy's teeny weenie to a spectacular conclusion. Which they both enjoyed and decided to make that, with Daddy repaying each time, a regular thing. In all the excitement, Thomas neglected to consider how Daddy would fit in at the party. When he did think about it, at 10 a.m., three hours before the party, he got a little depressed. But then he rationalized. "At least I'll have had one day and night at that great party." Thomas showered and enemaed twice. Liberally lubed up his bumhole and put a nice, medium-sized plug in so he would be ready to join the party very quickly. After breakfast, around 9:30, Thomas saw Daddy shaving everything below the ears, as he always did. Thomas thought that odd, since he thought Daddy would want to be as macho as possible for the party. By 11:08, Thomas was dressed and ready. Miniscule panties and micro-shorts. A too-small T-shirt that said, "I [heart] men." Pretty pink sandals that showed off his pretty, pink, pedicured toes. At 11:28, Thomas was finished ogling himself in the room's six floor-length mirrors and he decided to go fishing for a compliment from Daddy. Thomas knocked on Daddy's bedroom door and was told to come in. He entered, sought Daddy in the room, saw Daddy and gasped! Daddy was sitting at his vanity wearing black, fully-fashioned stockings and a garter belt. Black, four-inch-stiletto, patent-leather pumps. A black bra that lifted his "titties" to an apparent A-cup. Big-hair blonde wig. And a black, floor-length, sheer peignoir. He wasn't being Daddy on a day when Thomas NEEDED him to be Daddy. He was being Susan. Laying on more, sluttier makeup than Thomas had ever seen him wear. It was clear to Thomas that Daddy was planning to attend the Sperminghams' sissyboy spunk party as Susan!! Thomas would be humiliated. Thomas would never be invited to a respectable sissyboy spunk party again. Of course he would still have hordes of admirers assaulting the barricades of his front door, eager to possess him. But Thomas did not like being refused anything. Daddy would be humiliated. No one would want him. Not when there was super-hot boy flesh to enjoy. He would be the most flowery of wallflowers all night while Thomas was getting his butt pounded by every real man at the party. Thomas didn't express his misgivings to Daddy. It was late and he knew Daddy wouldn't back down So at 12:38, Daddy put on a raincoat over his lingeried self and they were off to the Sperminghams. Daddy wasn't wearing panties. Or a dress over his lingerie. Thomas shook his head softly. So sad. He hoped Daddy wasn't too bummed from not being bummed. Thomas braced for an embarrassing scene when they arrived at the party venue and Mr. Spermingham answered the door. Naked. A very nice naked. Very nice. Oh dear. Thomas was erect just from seeing the host. "Oh," the boy thought, "please don't send me home when you kick Daddy out on his ear. Look at me. I'm very fuckable." "Please come in you two. May I take your coat, madam? Do you have time for a drink or are you just dropping off your pretty son?" Thomas wondered how Mr. Spermingham knew Thomas was pretty since he hadn't even looked at the boy yet. His eyes were all over Daddy. "I'll be staying, with your permission, of course, Mr. Spermingham." Mr. Spermingham moved quickly to remove Daddy's coat. And saw that Daddy was a girl with something extra. Not much of a something, but something. The big moment approached. Thomas gritted his teeth. Mr. Spermingham's eyes were bugging out of his head. Daddy was biting his knuckle in the cutest way, Mr. Spermingham cleared his throat and said, "Oh my dear. You are a delightful addition to our weekly party. May I have the honor of the first `dance' with you today? I'll just leave the door open and the guests can just greet themselves." And with that, Mr. Spermingham led Susan up the stairs to the master bedroom. And the Lithuania-sized bed at its center. A three-gallon container of Spermbutt Anal Lubricant with pump dispenser stood by on the nightstand. "May I kiss you, Miss...?" "Susan. And yes you may, as often as you like. With lots of tongue please." It appeared that her dalliances with Mr. Freudish had helped Susan overcome much of her sexual shyness. "Call me Hans, Susan dear," he said, before diving in with some beautifully sweet kisses. The man could kiss, Susan thought. She was already having a good time while Thomas was downstairs trying to figure out what just happened. Susan knew. She had been counting on it. The kind of men who turn to sissyboys are generally "hetero" men who were disappointed with the nagging, manipulation and emasculation that women profess and manifest. They want femininity in their lives. Or what they believe femininity to be. Complete submission to their man's sexual needs. No matter how disgusting. - Lingerie. Makeup. Looking and acting like the women in porn. Susan, having been born a man, understood all that. A man with a sexual IQ as high as Mr. Spermingham figured that out immediately. And was frighteningly turned on by Susan. If only those boys would wear the lingerie that Mr. Spermingham laid out for them in the refreshment room every week. But they didn't. Maybe they would when they got a little older and needed a bit more to excite their men. Oh well. Mr. Spermingham had his perfect feminine person with him and he was going to enjoy her. Hans and Susan were steamed up. Just from the kissing, Hans was already nude. Susan had no panties. "I'm all lubed up if you want to make love to me," Susan said. "We can save the foreplay for after play." That sounded good to Hans! Susan lay on her back on the bed. Knees up. Hans took a moment to consider his prize. He especially loved the creamy white thighs framed by black stockings and garter straps. With that heavenly, vise-tight bumhole calling to his seven-inch best friend. Hans took a good look at Susan's penis. It was so cute. It was stiff, but the foreskin was still covering half the knob. Hans skinned it back, revealing the darling little knob, leaking and throbbing with girlish excitement. He couldn't resist. Hans took Susan quarter of a penis and sucked it lovingly. Susan squealed and squirmed with delight. She was having an excellent first sissyboy spunk party. It only took about 30 licks on Susan's ultra-sensitive "arrowpoint" on the underside of the knob. Shazam! Susan screamed loud enough so that "Doubting Thomas" could hear. Then she begged Hans to "Please fuck me now, Baby. I need it!!" If only we heard that a bit more often. Hans eagerly pushed in. Carefully. since it was frighteningly tight. And then, Ahhhhhh! So good. So indicative of the amazingly wonderful fuck future for Thomas and Daddy. Please let me know what you think at bc20002015@hotmail.com or beautifulcreamer@yahoo.com.