Date: Thu, 7 Jul 2022 21:41:53 +0000 From: Beau Kramer Subject: Sissyboy Theme Park (gay adult-youth) Sissyboy Theme Park (gay adult-youth) By Beautiful Creamer I don't do this stuff and you shouldn't either. What you should do is get vaccinated and contribute to nifty. One -- The Journey Driving along an Interstate Highway with two kids in the back seat, Mom and Daddy could have experienced an aggravating afternoon of "I'm bored" and "He looked at me" and "Are we there yet?" But no. The Cumwell family had that problem licked. Not to mention all the other things they had licked. Daddy was driving. Mom turned her head and looked at her two boys, 12-year-old Justin and 11-year-old Brady, in the backseat and smiled at their good behavior. She turned to her husband and said, "Oh, John. Things are so much better now. Remember how the boys used to fight all the time?" "I do, Honey," Daddy replied. "No more of that, though, is there?" "Not since they started fucking," Mom said. "Look at the little rascals. Like little puppies in heat. Why, I think Justin is about to lose his creamy load in Brady's bumhole again. Is that the third time since we left home?" Daddy thought about it. "I can't see everything going on back there when I'm driving, but I think it's just twice. And let me just say once again, Honey, how wonderful it is that you decided to join us on this trip." Mom smiled and accepted the praise, though in truth, she would be benefitting from the trip as much as her husband and the boys would. Mom and Daddy chuckled to themselves as they heard Justin's animalistic groans and grunts as he unloaded in his younger brother's tight ass. They were unprepared for what happened next. Brady was whining about something. Whining! There's no whining in good old homosexual, underage, parent-sanctioned, anal sex. But it turned out to be a good whining. For Daddy especially. "Dadddeeee!" the lovely Brady keened. "Justin shot his spunk too soon. I didn't get to cum that time. My little peanuts hurt. And Justin won't be able to fuck me again for at least 15 minutes. My bumhole is open and all slicked up. Could you help me, Daddy? Pleeeaassee?" Oh my. Daddy's own peanuts were getting sore as he thought about that delicious offer. Daddy, of course, had fucked his boys a bit at home. Never with his wife around. Which meant that Daddy-son anal sex nights were Tuesday and Friday, when, by bipartisan agreement, Mom left the house overnight and came back the next day, no questions asked. But never in front of... "Go ahead and pull into that rest area up there," Mom said. "I'll drive and you can get in the back and do whatever you and the boys want until we get to Buggerland. Looks like that's about two hours from now. Go ahead." Was Daddy the luckiest guy on earth or what? Daddy reached the rest area at warp speed. Got out. Shucked off his clothes and flung them to the floor of the vehicle. Then joined his naked boys in the extra-large, bedded back area. Oh! Brady's ass was in fact wide open for business. And drooling his brother's latest cum load. There would be time for foreplay after. Daddy just shoved his six-inch hardness into the kneeling Brady and gasped with joy. He was on the tenth stroke before Mom could get around and into the driver's seat. Oh, Baby! That was the stuff, Daddy thought. Daddy liked fucking both his boys' hot asses two nights each week, but this was extra sexy. Riding along the highway. Truck drivers tooting their horns at the horniness. Mom tooting back with a happy wave. Brady may have been exaggerating about his desperation for an immediate orgasm. He held himself back so that he could get the full force of Daddy's first-of-the-day creamload. The lovers lasted nearly eleven hot-stroke minutes before Brady screamed Daddy's name and once again creamed the sheet mom had spread when their road trip began. Mom chuckled to herself. Men! All they want to do is empty their testicles. She tuned out the mini-orgy going on in the back seat and thought about the upcoming week. She hadn't been sold on the idea of her boys being part of the "dress rehearsal" for the opening of the just-built, sissyboy theme park, Buggerland. Named, of course, after Biff Buggerall, billionaire chairman of Sissy Boy Enterprises. Which includes "Sissy Boy" magazine and its spinoffs, Sissy Boy World retail stores, Sissy Boy Fashions, Sissy Boy Tours and now a theme park. The "recruiter" who approached Mom and her husband made it sound really good. For the males anyway. A free week of varied activities guaranteed to separate a male from his sperm. Plus a $100,000 thank-you fee. Still, did Mom, as a mother, really want her boys exposed to every variety of underage, homosexual fornication? Did she really want her husband enjoying himself that much? Maybe not. The recruiter had seen this reluctance before. So he asked Daddy to leave the room. Then he explained the variety of delights that would be available to Mom that week. All week. So how could she, as a responsible, loving mother and dutiful wife stand in the way of such an opportunity for her husband and sons? History has not recorded what powerful incentives were dangled before Mom. Some speculate that they involved Chippendale dancers fucking her around the clock for seven days. Or a full, lipstick-lesbian affair with as many stockinged, garter-belted, high-heeled babes she needed to satisfy her itchy pussy. Perhaps just seven days of salon beauty-enhancement activities. Or some combination of the three. But we'll just have to speculate. Regardless, Mom was on board. And she even had the good sense to stop the car ten minutes from Buggerland to allow the sex-scented trio in the back seat to get semi-decent. Twenty minutes later, Daddy, driving again, though looking a bit worn out, drove through the main gate of Buggerland. Two -- Welcome to Buggerland. The Cumwells didn't expect to be greeted by billionaire balldrainer Biff Buggerall. But there he was. Looking all prosperous, powerful and sexually satisfied to a level that Hugh Hefner could have hardly imagined. Biff shook Daddy's hand manfully, hugged Mom, kissed each of the boys full on the mouth and gave each boy's bum a soft squeeze. Which was a bit presumptuous, perhaps. I mean the Mom-hugging part. But friendly enough. The boys looked as if they wanted Mr. Buggerall to cut them out of the herd, take them to his bed and ravage them for a week. Biff got that look a lot. But he was mostly all congenial host that day. "Mrs. Cumwell," he said, "Rosalyn here will escort you to your quarters, where you can freshen up, then begin your week of the activities you selected. I'm sure you'll find it most enjoyable." That was the point where Daddy could have stepped up and said, "No wife of mine [dot], [dot], [dot]." But instead, he just gave her a friendly goodbye nod and awaited the agenda for his own week. When Mom was off, Biff said to Daddy, "The lovely Eli, here will escort you to your quarters, Mr. Cumwell. I'm sure Eli will be more than willing to provide you any assistance you desire or require." Desire is even better than require, don't you think? Especially with Eli, who took Daddy's hand and led him off. Tears formed in Daddy's eyes. Not because he was saying goodbye to his wife and sons. They were tears of joy. Eli, who looked to be about 11 years old, was a world-class sissyboy babe. Wasn't he the one on the cover of the latest "Sissy Boy" magazine? It was hard for Daddy to tell, since at that moment, Eli's face was not covered with sperm. The lovely Eli's hand was warm as he took Daddy's paw. The boy was wearing only a wispy pouch over his genitals. His bum and chest were completely bare. And his sandals exposed his pretty toes. Daddy gulped, nodded at Justin and Brady and exited. Justin and Brady looked at Mr. Buggerall. Was he going to FUCK them now! Not yet. "Boys, I'm especially happy that you found your way to my new enterprise. I know you'll enjoy your week here. I would love to take you to my suite and fuck you now. But this is a workday for me. Rest assured that by the end of your time here, with your full consent, I'll have you both screaming and creaming as my cock delivers unimagined anal delights to you. But for now, please go with Rolf. He's going to get you showered up and dressed and meet some of the other boys. Ah, here's Rolf." Oh my! There WAS Rolf! A tall, blond, 24-year-old, Swedish hunk whose prick was already ripping the Speedo he wore as his only garment. The boys almost fainted from lust. Was Rolf going to fuck them now? No, darn it. Not yet. Quit asking. OK? Rolf was pleasant, but all business as he led Justin and Brady to the administration building of Buggerland. Rolf led the boys into a locker room, where he asked them to get nude, grab a towel, then get into the communal, eight-showerhead room steps away. "I'll be back for you later," Rolf said. Justin looked at Brady and asked, "When does the fun start?" Brady nodded. But they followed orders. And were soon happy they did. Justin turned the control on his shower and perfectly warm water flowed. Justin had to admit that after a multi-hour car ride/mini-orgy, he was smelling a bit gamy. The older brother stole a glance at Brady. And his cock rose. Which was what happened to any male when he looked at Brady. The boy was magnificent! And, darn it, so was Justin. Should Justin just grab the soap, lather up all of Brady's naked body, then bend him at the waist and fuck him? Again...not yet. Mostly because of the commotion the boys heard as Rolf returned with six other naked, deliciously gorgeous boys. One for each empty showerhead. Biff Buggerall was a detail man, after all. Oh dear. The boys were all giggly and grabby with each other as they soaped each other up. Justin and Brady were almost feeling left out until a 11-year-old Nigerian beauty named Nigel invited Justin to soap him up. Yes, please. Moments later, a pretty little baguette named Jean-Paul asked Brady to soap him up as well. Communal bathing was new to our protagonists, as was most of their sex outside their immediate family. It appeared the upcoming days would enhance their world view. Soapy hands found tender nipples. Then the separation between our co-protagonists' bumcheeks. Kisses followed. Soon enough, all eight boys were moving from showerhead to showerhead. Giving head. And offering well-soaped, well-prepared bumholes for Justin's cock's delight and nice big cocks for Brady's famished anus. What a lovely introduction to Buggerland! After a tangled hour of eight-way sex, it was clear that Justin favored Adam, a lovely, 10-year-old Brit brunet and Brady favored Richie, a 13-year-old, blond American Adonis out of central casting. The boys' selected "entertainment specialists" led them to a separate dry-off room, where they toweled off, but stayed naked. From there, each boy and his new friend entered one of two "intimacy chambers," where the lads would truly get to know Adam and Richie. And yes, dear reader, they were going to fuck. But let's see what Daddy was doing first. Eli and Daddy hit it off right away. They were kissing ang groping before they even got to their VIP intimacy chamber. The kind with sauna, hot tub and indoor swimming pool. And a large bed, of course. Which was where Daddy and Eli seemed to have landed. Daddy was not shy about experiencing all the amenities that the new park was laying before him. Including Eli, who was an amenity most definitely laid before him as well. It only took the young beauty picoseconds to get naked. Daddy clocked in at four whole seconds. Daddy's only regret at that point was that he shouldn't have hopped into the backseat with Justin and Brady earlier. He should have saved all his erections and his sperm for the magnificent angel before him. Shuddering to be fucked. The boy's face was in the classic, boyish beauty realm. His body was, to use a fully-descriptive term - ooh-la-la! Daddy was trying to remember the boy's age from the "Sissy Boy" pictorial. Maybe early 11? Anyway, he had to be spunking or he wouldn't have "modeled" for the magazine, would he? Daddy liked spunkers best. The impatient boy got on all fours and spread his legs out just enough to expose his anus. Except it wasn't exposed. There was a Spermbutt Anal Lubricant-greased plug in it! A bit presumptuous, wasn't it? "Why is your magnificent bottom plugged, Honey?" The overexcited boy grunted out, "Mr. Buggerall thought you might be a bit impatient about fucking me. So he got me all lubricated and dilated for you." Hmmph. Daddy didn't like that. "I think I can do my own preparation for lovemaking, thank you. This is coming out right now." And out it came with a loud slurp. "Oh thank you, Mr. Cumwell. That was uncomfortable. You're still going to fuck me, aren't... Oh!!!" Surprising both Eli and himself with his resourcefulness, Daddy took advantage of Eli's gaping bumhole in a way beyond what even Biff Buggerall could have imagined. He stuck 62.4 percent of his tongue right in there. Unimpeded by a sphincter. Tongue. Bum. WAY up there! Wow! That got Eli's attention. Daddy was already thinking of calling that the Cumwell maneuver. Eli was thinking about calling his Momma. That was new! And really...intimate. And a perfect introduction of new friends. Poor Eli! Here he had once thought the assignment with Mr. Cumwell was beneath him. He was a cover sissyboy for "Sissy Boy" for goodness sake. Reduced to being a "greeter" at the new theme park with some rube from the sticks. The rube turned out being really good about sticking it. Daddy was able to keep his tongue where it was defying sphincter physiology for about five minutes. Then the boy's sweet hole squeezed out Daddy's tongue as the boy groaned in disappointment. Should Daddy fuck the little rascal now? No. Daddy was old school. He believed that a good, stiff fucking was the dessert of lovemaking. Not the appetizer. So when the boy began to beg, sincerely, for his fucking, Daddy said, "Not just yet, Sweetheart. I want to get more acquainted with you and your stupendous body first. I can see that I need to calm you down a bit before a proper fucking. Just stay on your back, please, my pretty one." Eli obeyed his sex master. Then moaned when he felt Daddy's talented, experienced tongue thrill his stiff, aching penis with soft licks and sweet kisses. Taking occasional breaks to lick Eli's nipples and his dangling pretties. Of course, by the time Daddy took Eli's boycock into his loving mouth, the boy lasted only 90 seconds before arching his back and heaving out enough cummies to populate a province in Tibet. Wowie! And that was just the entrée. A sweet finish awaited. Daddy had done missionary with both Justin and Brady. Brady seemed more comfortable in that position, since he had always been a bottom with Justin. Justin, who had been only a top with his brother, became a submissive bottom when naked with Daddy. So Brady was a bit better at bottomship. Eli, who had fucked in at least seven basic positions and several subvariants, was multi-positional, but liked missionary best. For the kissing during the fuck. And the face-to-face with his man or boy lover. So Eli remained on his back, legs up. Perfect pussy lubed and hungry. Daddy fed it. With a nice, fat six inches of paternalized penis. Eli squealed like the sissyboy he was as Daddy clipped his prostate again and again. Driving the boy half mad with pleasure. And driving Daddy to think that the best decision he had ever made was to become an incestuous underage-boy-molester. As it turned out, that last two hours with his boys in the car had taken the edge off enough so that Daddy could give Eli a 48-minute seeing-to. Engendering three frantic, weeping, cataclysmic spunkstorms from the exhausted cover boy! And one ball-detonating, monster cum from Daddy. It was sleepy time for them both. Just before Daddy drifted off, he wondered what Justin and Brady were doing. Three -- First morning for the lads Justin woke at 9:15 the next morning after a night he would never forget. Ten-year-old Adam had been a topper's delight. Beautiful. Eager for sex. Generous. Wildly responsive. Even grateful to Justin for fucking him six times in 12 hours, For the first time Justin could remember, his balls hurt. But his libido still ruled. Justin's plan was to open his eyes, roll toward Adam, caress his body, kiss him for a while, then fuck him. Regardless of any nutaches. He was only staying at Buggerland for a week. Every moment not fucking was wasted time. So he opened his eyes, rolled over and threw his arm around...Brady! Where was Adam? How did Brady get into Justin's room? His bed? Where was Brady's lover du soir, Richie? Brady awoke and purred sweetly. Thinking that Richie was about to resume their carnal activities of the night before. He was equally startled to see Justin. A Buggerland mystery. Anyway, they didn't have time to think about it because Rolf burst in at that moment and said, "Rise and fuck, my sweet sissyboys. Rise and fuck. We have a big day ahead. Activities based on your preferences and experience. But breakfast second. First is a shower, you smelly little animals. Go." Justin thought, "So bossy." Brady thought, "Wow! I would love to have eight inches or so of Rolf up my boypussy." After the boys showered, they dried and "dressed" while Rolf gave them some well-deserved leers. The boys were entitled little twats, but they were certainly beautiful examples of sissyboyhood. And Rolf couldn't help tenting his speedos -- the most concealing garment a Buggerland guide was allowed to wear. Brady, being even randier than his older brother, was flashing his anus at Rolf as he slid on his wispy thong that concealed his boy's things but left all but a whisper of his bum exposed. But Rolf wasn't fucking either of them yet. There were Buggerland experiences to experience. The boys had definitely listed being fucked by men as their highest priority on the preference sheets they filled out three weeks earlier. Aside from Daddy, they had hardly been man-fucked at all! Just a teacher or two. The odd scoutmaster. Their pastor. Three neighbor men. None of whom Daddy even knew about. So they wanted Rolf to get with it. But not yet. Rolf steered the tasty creampuffs to the dining hall, where they got to eat eggs and gawk at the array of masculine beauty in the big room. There were at least 30 men and boys at breakfast that morning, almost all of whom had that nice, just-fucked look. Some were "entertainment specialists." A few, like the Cumwells, were test-guests participating in that week's shakedown cruise for the theme park. Regardless, the boys were stiff, drippy and ready for sexual bliss that lovely morning. Rolf broke the mood slightly by saying, "None of these lovely people are on your schedule today. But many will be before the week is out. Did you enjoy your night with Adam and Richie?" About time he asked. The boys nodded, then went back to looking and flirting. "As I recall," Rolf said, "You both said you wanted more sex with men. Is that correct?" Rolf had their attention. Both boys agreed with their desire for mancock. "You also said you wanted to experience bigger cocks than your Daddy's, right?" "Yes, please," Brady said. "Daddy is a great fucker, but he only has six inches." Rolf winced at Brady's entitled attitude. But he went on. "You also said that you wanted new experiences. True?" When the boys concurred, Rolf stood up and led the boys to a four-seater golf cart. Everyone got in. The boys felt a tiny bit of fear for the first time at Buggerland. A dollop of apprehension sometimes leads to exquisite orgasms. Or to what we're afraid of. Off they went in the golf cart. To a path sign that said, "You are leaving Buggerland. Thank you for cumming." Justin didn't like that. Brady was still thinking about three or four men he saw in the dining hall. Three minutes later, the crew arrived in what can only be described as a seedy, urban neighborhood. The kind that Justin and Brady had only seen in movies and video games. There were black people! And Latino people! And the seediest white people the boys had ever seen! Had Rolf gone crazy? They were riding around a lower-income neighborhood in a slow, electric golf cart. Both boys were 97 percent naked! And people, some of whom weren't "their kind of people," were staring and shaking their heads at the crazy white boys. Justin was about to demand that they return to Buggerland IMMEDIATELY when their insane guide stopped the cart and waved to a HUGE black man who was advancing on the boys. "Here they are, Jamal," Rolf said. "Keep them until a week from yesterday if you want. Nobody will know they're gone. You got my money?" "Two large, like we agreed," Jamal said. "I can see it's worth it. These are some fine sissyboys." The boys trembled, sobbed and wailed. And realized their situation. Rolf, whom they now loathed, had SOLD them to this, to this black person! For six days! Six days of being FORCED into sexual perversions they could hardly imagine. The horror! The man was so big! If they tried to resist, he could snap them in half. Which would be horrible, but at least Rolf would be prosecuted for accessory to murder. Unless Mr. Buggerall pulled strings and got Rolf off. As Rolf puttered off, Justin tried to remember their safeword. "Rumplestiltskin." Yeah, that's right. But wait. They were off the reservation. Saying the safeword would be useless. That "Jamal" person was circling the boys. Tut-tutting at their 97 percent naked beauty. "Wow," Jamal said. "You are the prettiest white boys Rolf ever brought us. We're gonna have a GOOD time over the next six days. Then you can go home to your farm or whatever and tell all your boyfriends what it's like to be fucked by a REAL man." Brady was half-ready to see a bit more of what Jamal was concealing under that huge tent in his jeans. But Justin was far more circumspect. Justin was sure that the next six days would be hellacious for them. Chained up. Eating out of a dog bowl. Spankings. No video games or Rocky Road ice cream. Plus, Jamal was surely not "their kind of people." Who knew what perversions he could concoct for two pampered sissyboys? "Come on inside you two cuties. We don't want the neighbors getting all envious about you two. You beauties are for just me and my crew." His crew!?!?!? How many big-cocked ethnic ethnics in a crew? Justin wondered how many rough men would they be FORCED to service? 100 men? Sixteen hours a day? Brady wondered, a whole crew, huh? He hoped that was at least 20. And 20 hours a day. They entered a hallway filled with mailboxes. Not the normal kind that are at the end of your driveway. The urban kind. Jamal marched the pretty boys upstairs. Looking at their amazing, nearly bare asses all the way to the fourth floor. He opened the door to apartment B and the boys inched in. It wasn't dirty or messy. Just poor. And to the relief of Justin and the disappointment of Brady, there were only three other men. Another black man named Maurice. A Mexican-American named Carlos. And a bad-ass-looking white guy named Spike. The three men other than Jamal looked dazed by the Cumwell boys' beauty. But not dazed enough that they would release them. "Wow," Maurice said. "Rolf outdid himself this time. You two are the prettiest we ever molested and manhandled yet." As he always did, Brady glowed at the compliment. As he always did, Justin was wary and mistrustful of unfamiliar men's intentions. Justin considered crying and begging to go back to Buggerland. Screaming for help might be useful too. But then he noticed Brady doing what he always seemed to do around men. Brady was flirting! He began to walk around the seedy apartment. Looking at this and that as he made sure the four men got good looks at his magnificent ass. Then Brady said, "You seem like nice men. Do you like pretty boys? My brother and I like manly men." Was Brady crazy? Those men had practically kidnapped them! Were no doubt planning to RAPE them. And here Brady was prickteasing! A skill in which Brady excelled. As Justin shivered in fear at the brutal way these brutal brutes could brutalize, Brady just made eye contact with each of them as he lowered his thong by two inches. Exposing his 14 pubic hairs, but not his painfully stiff penis. The men seemed stricken. It was not at all what they expected. But they weren't expecting Brady Cumwell. At that moment, Brady could feel it. The men could feel it. Even Justin could feel it. The balance of power had shifted to Brady. For the billionth time, Justin was astonished by his brother's razor-edged use of his sexuality. Carlos managed a response for the group. "We all love boys, Honey. That's why we paid Rolf to bring you here. Because you're so beautiful. And you like men." "Justin and I like men who tell us what to do in bed. We like them a lot and they like us liking them a lot. But my brother and I don't like men being bossy with us out of bed. So, we can make you happy like you've never been happy before. But you can't hurt us or keep us here if we want to leave. OK?" The four huge, rough-looking bundles of machismo surrendered completely to the tiny eleven-year-old beauty princess. And his awed-by-his-brother brother. "Good," Brady said. "That's settled. Is there anyplace here to sit? Justin and I would be happy to sit on someone's lap. We'll even take our thongs off so you'll have better access to our private things. But only if the lap is attached to a naked man." Twelve seconds later, four men and two boys were naked. Oh dear, Brady thought. Where shall I sit? Let me see. Mr. Jamal's cock appeared to be the longest. At least nine inches. And way thicker than Daddy's. I should save that for when I'm opened up a bit. Mr. Maurice's cock is at least eight inches, two more than Daddy's. That's the biggest I've ever had, but it's as thin as Daddy's. Mr. Maurice it is. Maurice almost spunked from happiness that he was going to sample the first fruits of Brady. That day's first fruits anyway. Probably. Where was Justin going to alight? He was still a bit dazed at his brother's skill in turning the tables. And he thought of himself as more of a top. But Mr. Jamal's cock looked like one he might never see again. A once-in-a-lifetime thing. So Mr. Jamal it was. Though Justin was still concerned that Mr. Jamal and his band of thugs might not know how to respectfully fuck the living shit out of a screaming, creaming sissyboy. So Justin cautiously approached the astonishingly well-sculpted nakedness of Jamal. His cock looked lethal. Eager to pillage poopers. Justin's pooper to be exact. And it was so black! Blacker than the rest of him. And Jamal was really black. This was a huge leap for Justin. Who usually only accepted men as lovers after Brady had smoothed out their rough edges a bit. Big leap. Here goes. Justin lowered his luscious tushie onto Jamal's left thigh. The man laid his massive paw onto Justin's back and asked, most politely if he could kiss him. Well. That was very nice. Justin was starting to feel a little bit better as he considered granting permission for a kiss. But in the back of his mind, moving to the front, was the notion that he wanted at least some pooper-pillaging from Jamal. After all, he was in Buggerland, not back in cow country. So the sweet lad startled Jamal and himself by saying, "You can make love to me the way you see fit. If I don't like it, I'll tell you to stop, Mr. Jamal. That's the only word I would use. Screaming during penetration is normal. Keep penetrating unless I say the `s' word. OK?" Jamal smiled broadly. It was more than OK. Both young beauties were on board and super randy. So Jamal moved in for a kiss. Quite a nice one by Justin's high standards. As were the open-mouth kisses Jamal gave Justin as he skinned the boy's knob so sweetly. It was all super-exciting to Justin. He couldn't wait to tell the other sissyboys back home about having sex with a massive black man in a low-rent apartment. Come to think of it, neither Justin nor his friends had ever seen an actual black man in person. And here Justin was. Oh dear. The kisses were very arousing, as was the careful attention the man's fingers were giving to the underside of Justin's glans. His breathing sharpened. He was losing control. Wait. Why had Mr. Jamal moved Justin off his lap? Oh! Sensing a too-early boygasm, quick-thinking Jamal stood the boy up, leaned over and took Justin's spewing penis into his mouth just quickly enough to capture and swallow every tasty drop of boy honey. Well. It appeared that Justin was wrong about Mr. Jamal. He was a generous, caring lover after all. What was he doing next? Huh? Jamal had turned the standing Justin around and he was kissing and licking Justin's fine buttocks. Gee. None of Justin's lovers, except for Daddy, had done any ass-kissing. That was...Whoa!!! Jamal had parted Justin's bum cheeks with his thumbs and was licking (!), that's right, LICKING Justin's asshole!! Sad to say, although most (OK, all) men in the boys' area were regular purchasers of "Sissy Boy" magazine, of course, none learned that a boy likes his bumhole licked before the Spermbutt Anal Lubricant is applied. Maybe they thought it was too yucky. Nothing is too yucky when it comes to satisfying one's sissyboy. And Mr. Jamal was certainly satisfying Justin. The sweet boy whooped for joy as he shot string after string into the polluted air. Brady glanced over at his brother and was delighted that he had gotten with the program. Maurice had taken Brady to one of the two bedrooms and had the little creampuff on the bed on his back. The eleven-year-old sex prodigy had his legs up and spread as the XXL, big-cocked man was licking everything he could lick from bumhole to knob tip. And Brady was having quite a good time for himself. Note to self, Brady thought. If future men want boypussy, they have to lick it first. A new policy of "Lick it before you stick it." Brady was completely sure that such an edict would not dissuade any of his men lovers. Maurice was a skilled, ardent boylover. He brought matters to a climax for Brady before he went to work on the boy's prostate with deft fingers and Spermbutt Anal Lubricant. And when Maurice entered the warm, wet, confined space that offers joy and fulfilment, a bipartisan accord was reached sublimely. Brady had never been fucked with a cock as big as Maurice's rammer. It touched him in places he had never been touched. Brady liked being touched there. He liked it so much that after Brady and Maurice had said their kissy-bye-for-nows, he eagerly let Carlos and his 8.56-inch hardon do him dirty. There's something decadent about letting a man fuck one right after one's bum is saturated with another man's spunk. Brady liked decadent. After 48 fuck-filled hours, the men suggested that Justin and Brady return to the main campus of Buggerland. The men were exhausted. Their nuts ached badly. And they were developing calluses on their cocks. Justin and Brady were still fit for fucking, but they took pity on the older gentlemen. There was a lot of goodbye kissing and groping as the boys departed with Rolf. "You know I didn't really sell them to you, right?" Rolf asked. "It's all part of the experience. You never really left Buggerland either. The `Leaving Buggerland' sign was false. We think that the whole `ghetto' experience will be a winner when the park opens." "We figured that out, Mr. Rolf," Brady said. "you were all very nice men. And Mr. Spike cooked great meals for us." "He should," Rolf said. "Spike, also known as Anton, is the master chef for a two-Michelin-star restaurant. Jamal is a professor of literature at a major university. Maurice is a chief or police for a large American city. And Carlos heads the biochem department at a federal research facility." Wow, Brady thought. No wonder they were smart enough to do what I said. Four -- Back to Daddy If this true-to-life, factual, journalistic reportage were to detail all the goings-on that were going on for Daddy, Justin, and Brady at Buggerland, the nifty.org server would overload. So from here on, we'll just cover the highlights of their sexual exploits that amazing week. Be assured that none of the three Cumwells slept alone during the entire week. And that they all tried "new things," based on their previously-stated hopes and fantasies. Daddy's first scenario portrayed him as a principal at an elementary school for boys. Young Skipper, a nine-year-old fourth-grader, failed his big tests and will be failing his classes. He's seeing the principal to see if Mr. Cumwell will change his grades. So, you ask, will Daddy, AKA Mr. Cumwell, be FUCKING a nine-year-old boy? It appeared so. Was that truly Daddy's wish? Not really. He asked for an eight-year-old, but the Buggerland administration said that was too young. So, Daddy was sitting in his fake office looking at fake papers when he heard a soft knock on the door. "Come in," Daddy said authoritatively. The door opened slowly and a sweet, innocent, way-too-young-but-far-too-beautiful-to-ignore Skipper appeared. Daddy gasped. Manfully. Where does Mr. Buggerall find all these amazing beauties, he thought. Soft, blond hair. Classically beautiful face. Legs far too long for his height (accented by ridiculously tight short-shorts). An ass that belonged on someone far pudgier than he was. Trembling. Apprehensive. Desperate. The boy's eyes were filled with tears. Daddy empathized the best he could, while still wanting to, as the Brits say, fuck the boy stupid. "Oh, Mr. Cumwell," Skipper lamented, "I'm so scared! My Daddy is going to spank me when he sees my grades." Daddy felt a flush of anger when he imagined anyone doing harm to that luscious ass. "Well, Skipper," the pseudo-educator said, "according to your, teachers, Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones, you did no homework and no studying the entire term. Your IQ scores are super-high, but you seem to blow off school. Why is that?" Skipper began with the classic lament. "My teachers are lying to you, Mr. Cumwell. They both hate me because I won't [inaudible]." Skipper began to sob even harder. Daddy held his arms out to Skipper, who ran to the man's lap and threw his arms around Daddy. The boy sobbed ferociously for a good three minutes as Daddy embraced him and rubbed his back. Which gave Daddy a shamefully fierce erection. When Skipper stopped his heavy sobbing, Daddy asked him, "You didn't finish telling me the reason why Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones allegedly hate you." Skipper was still sniffling as he looked at Daddy with his big, brown, puppy eyes and said, "They want me to do sex things with them and I won't." Daddy rearranged Skipper a bit on his manly lap so that his idling engine could rub up against Skipper's hip. Did Skipper rub back? Wow! "What kind of sex things did they want, Honey?" [Sniffling] "Mr. Smith took his [sob, sob] penis out of his pants. He showed it to me and said I was the prettiest boy in school and he was spending hours each night wanking thinking about me. What's wanking, Mr. Cumwell?" "What did you do?" "I ran." "Did you tell your Daddy?" "I was afraid he would call me a prickteaser again. He says I'm always doing that. I think that means when I see men, I act like I want them to do sex things with me. But I don't. I just act like myself." "I see. And has Mr. Jones done things like that too?" "Oh yes, sir. Mr. Jones stood behind me when I was taking a pee in the boy's room and he reached around and grabbed my privates. And stroked them as I peed." "Did you like that?" "NO!!!! Maybe a little bit. But it was wrong, wasn't it, Mr. Cumwell?" "No boy should be forced to do sex things. But if the boy wants to, that's different." "It is?" "Sure. Lots of boys do sex things with men. They enjoy it a lot. Better than anything. For the men too. But only if the man and the boy both want it." Skipper seemed to ponder that sagacious comment. And dug his head deeply into Daddy's chest. For two long minutes. Then Skipper said, "Maybe I would like doing some sex things. Not with those cruel, lying teachers. With someone good and strong." [LONG pause, during which Daddy remained silent.] Then - "Someone like you, Mr. Cumwell" Ding, ding, ding, ding! Bingo! Daddy looked down. Skipper's lips were parted for a kiss. Daddy ignored all the snot Skipper had generated with his weeping. And dug in for a lovely ten-minute snog. Oh dear. Despite all its hard work thus far at Buggerland, good old Mr. Johnson was preposterous once again. Daddy was thinking about how it would feel to house his penis in a nine-year-old's ridiculously tight bumhole. Poor Daddy had never had that pleasure, since he hadn't started fucking his boys until Justin was 11 and Brady was 10. In the back of Daddy's mind, way, way back, he knew that Skipper was as virginal as your average Las Vegas escort. But the illusion that he was about to be "the first" for a gorgeous nine-year-old had captured his fancy and it wasn't letting go. So the seduction continued. Skipper was the one to break the kiss with some new sobbing. "What's the matter, sweetheart? Didn't you like that kiss? You seemed to." [Sob, sob] "I did like it. That's why I'm crying. It was a sex thing and now I'm [super sob} GAY!" Daddy embraced Skipper more tightly and rocked him lovingly. "That wasn't a sex thing at all. Or gay. You were just expressing gratitude for me listening to you." Skipper stopped crying and said. "I was?" "Of course." Skipper seemed to ponder that a bit. Then he made the critical observation. "My Daddy says that when men and boys are excited about sex, their penises get hard. Yours is hard. I can feel it. Mine is hard too." Daddy's response was crucial to the full success of the scenario. He thought a moment and said, "Did you get hard when Mr. Smith or Mr. Jones tried to molest you?" Skipper looked as if he were thinking hard, then said, "No. Not at all. I didn't like what they were doing and I didn't want to do sex things with them." "So if you're hard now, from us kissing, what does that mean?" What an amazing little actress, Skipper was. He looked as if he didn't want to admit the feeling that Mr. Cumwell had steered him into realizing. Finally, he made full disclosure. "I guess I like you. And I want to do sex things with you." And there it was. Nicely, done, Daddy Cumwell. Warily, Skipper asked, "Can we so sex things now, Mr. Cumwell" "If you want, Sweetie. No one will bother us." "What will we do?" "Well, since you're new at this, why don't I show you some sex things and you tell me if you want to do each one or not?" Skipper thought for a moment, then agreed. Daddy proposed, "It would be much easier for us to have the best kind of fun if took your shorts and underpants off." Playing his part magnificently, Skipper hesitated, then complied with his eager molester's request. Wow! Daddy had seen a lot of boy bits since he arrived at Buggerland, but Skipper's penis and pebbles were the tiniest and tastiest. The biggest thing about Skipper's 1.56-inch, semi-soft penis was his foreskin. It covered all but his pouty peelips. Daddy winced at the thought that, since Skipper was only half-stiff, maybe he really was being molested for the first time! Had Biff Buggerall just brought this ingenuous boy up to the frontlines as he tested out his new park's sex scenarios? Was Daddy actually about to make love to a nine-year-old virgin? Biff Buggerall was coy about that with me as I interviewed him for this story. But it was certainly possible. Anyway, Daddy almost spunked right there at the thought. But he pulled himself together and drove on. Daddy gently touched Skipper's tiny balls. Skipper gasped and said, "Wait!" Oh no! What had Daddy done? Was Skipper about to tell Daddy to stop? Was that proof positive that the boy was truly a scared virgin? Not just yet. "It's not fair, Mr. Cumwell." Huh? "What do you mean, my angel?" "I have my pants off and you don't." Daddy's blood pressure was halved. "I know," Daddy suggested, "Let's get really naughty and take all of our clothes off." "We'll both be naked!!" "Won't that be exciting?" No hesitation from Skipper that time. He stripped to a stunning nude as Daddy did the same. And there they were. Daddy drank in Skipper's amazing beauty before he resumed his manual inspection of Skipper's boy's things. Skipper was clearly impatient for further molestation. So Daddy once again lifted Skipper's baby balls with the pads of his fingers. That welcome action, combined with the naughtiness of being naked with a naked man, had Skipper ferociously erect for the first time that day. Bringing his pride and joy to its full 3.47-inch magnificence. The boy's ears were on fire from arousal. But he heard the man ask, "May I kiss them?" Skipper could only moan in the affirmative. Daddy laid a soft kiss on each little sphere. Getting a half-squirm and a gasp from Skipper. The boy moaned and shuddered when Daddy kissed, licked and suckled Skipper's tiny penis. Then began to shudder and squeal even more as he experienced what may have been his first dry orgasm. Daddy was having a good day. As was Skipper. "Oh, Mr. Cumwell," the apparently innocent boy asked, "What was that?" "You just had your `boy's time,' Honey. When a man or a boy makes love to you, like I just did, and you like it a lot, like your just did, your body says, `I liked that a lot. And let me show you how much.' Is that what just happened to you?" "I guess so." "Did you like it?" "Oh, Mr. Cumwell, I REALLY liked it. Can we do that some more? Please!?!?!?" The man chuckled and said, "Of course, you beautiful boy. We can do that some more with a little bonus. Can I show you the bonus?" Skipper's throaty moan passed for agreement. Daddy resumed his licks and kisses on Skipper's knob, but then he bonused Skipper good and proper. One wicked middle finger inserted to the first knuckle into Skipper's ridiculously tight anus. Skipper whooped and bucked. Though not hard enough to dislodge either Daddy's finger or mouth from their carnal missions. The young beauty was in paradise. Daddy kept eye contact with the boy and loved what he saw. Skipper's eyes were wide with ecstatic agony. Skipper was confused, aroused, smitten, terrified, and desperate for another boy's time. Which arrived moments after Daddy located and punished Skipper's previously-untouched prostate. Skipper let out a howl that was heard in the adjoining intimacy chamber, where a test guest was playing naked Santa for a phalanx of bare-bummed boys. Daddy was quite pleased with himself as he watched the boy recover from his desperate agony. The look in Skipper's eyes when the boy was once again able to focus them said, "Whatever you want, Mr. Cumwell. No matter how sick, perverted, or painful it is, I want you to do it. I am your LOVE SERVANT!!" At least that's how Daddy read it before he had the boy bend over the principal's desk, sat behind the cherub and began his anal adoration/buggery-preparation. Oh, how Skipper enjoyed that! The man was licking him in the place he pooped! It was so flattering that the man thought Skipper was so beautiful and desirable that he would do something so selfless for a boy. Not considering, perhaps, that the man's actions were not completely selfless. Skipper whimpered when the fake principal removed his tongue from the boy's luscious anus. But stood on his toes when he felt two Spermbutt Anal Lubricant-laden fingers invade his inner precincts. After a delightful twelve minutes of sodomistic services, Daddy stood and said, "I'm going to fuck you now, Sweetheart. It's not the same as when Mommies and Daddies fuck. It's better. You can't get pregnant. And, once the initial pain is over, it'll be the best feeling you've ever had. Is that OK?" The brave little soldier looked back and nodded a half-scared, half-fuck-needy affirmative. Oh! The man was right about the pain when the knob passed the sphincter. But as previously noted, Daddy's best friend was a perfect starter cock. Average length. Thinner than average. So Skipper was able to bear entry while only issuing a squeak. Daddy took that as license to go "all in." And that's what he did. All he elicited that time was a far louder squeak. Pretty much a squeal. Accompanied by a surprise. The cherub was cumming again. Like most boys, given the opportunity, Skipper liked sex. Liked being fucked. Liked Mr. Cumwell fucking him. Daddy pushed and pulled on. He was in a gorgeous nine-year-old boy's impossibly-tight bumhole. Fucking a boy who wanted to be fucked as much as Daddy wanted to fuck him. Daddy could only thank his stars (and Biff Buggerall) for the opportunity to enjoy the best possible week any man would ever have. Five -- Brady the babysitter "Now you will call us if you have any questions won't you, Brady? The numbers are all right here." "Yes, Mrs. Smallputz. Johnny and I will be fine." "Oh, dear. My babysitters for Johnny and usually a lot older. I mean, you're only eleven and Johnny's only eight. But your mother and I are friends and she says you're very mature and responsible. And all my regular babysitters are busy. It's so hard for me being a single mother sometimes." The mother in this scenario was playing her part well. Brady actually felt that he was a very young babysitter taking on a lot of responsibility. When he was actually taking on his first opportunity to be a "top." And what a "bottom" young Johnny Smallputz was. Perhaps you think I've been overrating the sissyboys in this tale. Well. I'm not. Biff Buggerall had stratospherically high standards. In all his professional and personal relationships. Including "employees" and his test-guests like Justin, Brady and Daddy. Johnny was certainly an up-and-cummer. The boy oozed sex potential. And innocence. A powerful aphrodisiac in itself. Brady wanted Johnny to ooze lots of sex potential in his direction that evening. "One last apology before I go," the mother said. "This party I'm going to is for my company's biggest year ever. These things sometimes go well into the morning. Your mother said you wouldn't mind sleeping with Johnny in his big bed until morning. So he doesn't miss me too much or worry about monsters under the bed. Is that OK?" "No problem, Mrs. Smallputz." "Good boy. Thank you, Brady." She kissed Johnny goodbye, then gave Brady a peck and she was off. Leaving Brady and Johnny alone. Johnny looked a little disturbed about his mother leaving him alone with an eleven-year-old he didn't really know. Brady looked as if he wanted to take Johnny's Spider-Man pajamas off and kiss him all over. But first they had to eat the obligatory babysat meal -- pizza. Of course the two had no history or mutual acquaintances, so they talked about little-league baseball, soccer and, at the end of the conversation, sex. "Do you have a best friend, Johnny?" "I do. His name is Ethan." "Do you and Ethan have sleepovers sometimes?" "Sure. Every Friday we either sleep here or at Ethan's" "Do you sleep in your nice, big bed together?" "Yeah. When we finally go to sleep." "So you fool around instead of sleep?" "Sure. Didn't you when you were my age?" Which made Brady feel older than his years. He replied, "Sure. Most of my sleepovers were with my brother, Justin. We shared a room with two beds, but we usually slept together in one of them most nights." Johnny looked puzzled. "Why did you do that?" Brady paused dramatically, then said, "Because we liked to fool around like bigger boys fool around." Now Johnny looked really confused. Brady clarified. "Justin and I played with each other's penises until we made each other feel good. Really good." The boy winced, then trembled. The ground was getting a bit wobbly. Which was more great acting from Johnny. Or was it acting? "Wasn't that gay?" "I dunno. We never thought of it that way. We just thought of it as the best fun a boy could have." Johnny had to ask. "What was it like?" And there we have it. Almost. "I can tell you, but it's better to show you." A bit of squirming from Johnny. But then, "OK." And there we have it for sure. "Let's go up to your room." Johnny complied. Semi-eagerly. Awaiting instructions. "Can I take your pajama bottoms off?" Johnny looked a little scared. Then he said, "Will you take your pants off too?" Brady smiled. "I can do better than that. I can take everything off and be naked. Just like my brother and I are when we get into bed together." Johnny was trembling from both fear and sexual arousal. He seemed to be saying to himself that getting naked with this boy was wrong, but he would regret the opportunity if he missed it. So he slowly removed his pajama bottoms. Then his top. Brady matched him item by item. And there they were. Two spectacular, naked boys with full erections. Brady drank in Johnny's loveliness, with his eyes. "You're very beautiful. Ethan is lucky to have you." Johnny blushed from the first sentence. Was startled by the second. "Why did you say that about Ethan?" Brady stepped forward and held Johnny's hand. "Because no sane boy could sleep in a bed with you and not worship your body. You kissed and played with each other's penises a bit, didn't you?" Johnny looked horrified. His deepest secret was out! He looked as if he was about to grab his pajamas, run to the bathroom, lock the door and sleep in the bathtub until his mother got home. Brady sensed all that and said, "That was what Justin and I do all the time. We like it a lot. We're already naked. Can I show you some things you might want to do with Ethan the next time?" That sounded reasonable to Johnny. Instruction in interpersonal relations from his babysitter. Brady saw the change in mood and moved in. Kissing Johnny right on the mouth as, he lifted Johnny so they could rub cockheads. Brady offered his tongue for Johnny's alleged first kiss. Johnny accepted greedily. Naked. Kissing. Tongue-sucking. Glans-rubbing. It was all so tasty. Brady was already nearing his first you-know-what of the evening. But Johnny beat him to it. The lad had a pelvis-splitting orgasm that almost shook the house to its foundation. Which set Brady off, of course. Which meant that when the younger boy recovered from his 1,000-foot plummet, his belly would be covered in Brady's sperm. "What happened?" Johnny asked shakily. "We both had our boy's time, Honey. Hadn't you and Ethan ever had those?" Johnny's face showed that he felt like a dumb bunny. "We never went that far. We stopped because we thought we were going to pee and wet the bed. Plus, if we went too far, it would be gay." "How did you like that?" [eagerly] "It was the best feeling ever. Can we do it again?" Brady chuckled. "Sure. But I know ways to make your feelings even better. Want to try them?" Johnny enthusiastically agreed. So Brady got onto his knees and had Johnny stand in front of him. "This is how a sissyboy takes care of his lover. On his knees." Meekly, Johnny asked, "Are you a sissyboy? At school, bad boys call me a sissyboy sometimes. Do they think I'm gay?" "They think your gorgeous and they want to do the things with you that you and I are doing. Being called a sissyboy is a compliment. It means you're pretty and men and boys want you." "Are you a sissyboy, Brady?" "Yes, and I'm proud of it." "Am I as sissyboy?" "That's up to you. Why don't we see what you like and we can discuss that later. Plus, I think things are getting a bit warm for more talk, don't you think?" Johnny agreed. And agreed even more when Brady took his little cock into his mouth. Mmmmmm. Johnny's partially descended balls tingled as Brady gave the youngster a four-star, special-delivery, top-drawer blowjob. Swirling his tongue here and there as he rubbed, just rubbed, the tip of his finger around the boy's sweet pucker. Johnny stomped his right foot with urgency born of lust. He was getting the VIP treatment from a master of the fellatric arts. And no one says no to that. Johnny dry-cummed twice before Brady led the knackered boy to his bed. Face down. Legs slightly apart. Showing, perhaps unwittingly, his luscious bumhole. Brady had to have it. Even though he was charged with the boy's care, the boy was only eight-years-old, weak from monstrous cumming, and virginal, Brady did not feel as if he were taking advantage of Johnny. OK, maybe a little. But he rationalized by saying to himself, "It will be far less painful when I fuck him if he's relaxed. Plus, he's had three orgasms already and I've only had one." See. No guilt. Good old rationalization. Our best friend. Along with our cocks. Which Brady was about to slide into Johnny's exquisite boypussy. After he dined on Johnny's luscious innards. And lubed him up good and proper with Spermbutt Anal Lubricant, the sissyboy's friend. So there Brady was. And there Johnny was. Enjoying the afterglow of his fourth orgasm from Brady's tender attentions to Johnny's posterior. Loving the sweet kisses Brady was laying onto his neck. Ready, perhaps far a short nap. Followed by Brady doing more of what he had been doing. Until... Yeow!! Brady's cock was an appropriate size for a boy his age. It wasn't a Jamal-sized weapon by any means. But Johnny's bumhole had only had Brady's middle finger invade its inner sanctum thus far. And that was a very tight fit. So, yeah. Yeow! Let's remember as well that this was the first topping experience for Brady. So it was all new to him as well. He feared that he had hurt Johnny badly. If that were true, he would quickly pull out, apologize and eat ice cream with Johnny until he went to bed. Alone. But no. He heard a grunt from Johnny. Was that a pain grunt? If so, he had Plan B ready... No. That wasn't a pain grunt. It was, Brady was mostly sure, a pleasure grunt. Then Brady heard what we all want to hear. "It's so big, but it doesn't hurt anymore. Do it harder." And so Brady did. Six - Justin meets his possible future The great Biff Buggerall knows and loves sissyboys so much that he offers them services far more extensive than a stiffie up the kiester. Mr. B sometimes offers his services as a life coach. Only the Great Man has the full view of sissyboys' hopes, fears and dreams. He saw the paths Justin could take to his sexual future (clearly the most important aspect} and benevolently offered Justin advice on his options. As they were recovering from the best fuck of Justin Cumwell's young life. The Great Man's sperm was easing from Justin's beleaguered bum as he told the boy the good news. But he began with the bad news. "You're getting older, Honey. You're a classically beautiful sissyboy and you're a joy to fuck. But in six months and 17 days, you'll be thirteen years old. Thirteen!" Justin was confused. Thirteen didn't seem old to him. "Not to contradict you, sir, but thirteen seems young to me." "To you, yes. But not to the allegedly hetero men you favor. I know that the only men you've slept with, except for me, of course, are married and believe they're straight. Until your beauty and fuckability knocks them cold. Men who think that way form the biggest part of the population by far. Which sounds good for you, except that as you get older, your voice deepens, you get hair on your body, those men think that fucking you is `gay.' Stupid and silly, I know, but it's as immutable as gravity." Justin was near tears. He even lost the erection he had been sporting since arrival in Buggerland. "What can I do, Mr. Buggerall? Can you help me?" "Of course, I can," the sissyboy's superhero said. "All you'll need to do is become a lingerie sissy. You'll have a HUGE advantage over girls and women. Your sex drive will be nuclear. You can have sex 30 days a month instead of 24. You can't get pregnant. You would never nag, manipulate or emasculate your lovers. And, you would be giving them all the femininity they crave." Justin's eyes were wide with wonder. And apprehension. "You mean wear stockings and garters and high heels and lingerie and stuff? But that's not me. I'm all boy." "I know, and many men love you for it. But when those married, self-deluders start thinking of you as a man, you could even be, and I hate to use the C-word, but you could be CELIBATE three or four nights a week!!" Justin recoiled in horror. Then he had one of those epiphany things. Mr. B was wise. And he was right. "I'll do it," the boy proclaimed. "I'll become a lingerie sissyboy." Biff smiled broadly, gave Justin a long tongue kiss, and said, "Marvelous. But before you do it, let's do it. I'm stiff and drippy again thinking of what an amazing lingerie sissyboy you'll become." At noon the next day, Justin had managed a fuck-free nap and Biff had left. Rolf reappeared. "Mr. Buggerall tells me that you want a glimpse into life as a lingerie sissyboy. Is that right?" Justin stretched sleepily and said, "That was his advice and I'm going to take him up on it. But could you please fuck me before breakfast. I've been thinking about your cock all week and we seem to keep missing each other." As a Buggerland guide, Rolf was duty-bound to honor Justin's reasonable request. So by the time Justin had been fucked, had showered and had eaten, it was 1:20 p.m. when Rolf's golf cart delivered Justin to a part of Buggerland called "Babydoll Boy." Rolf kissed Justin goodbye and left him in the capable hands (and penis) of a lingerie sissyboy named "Terry." Truth be told, Justin's first impression was that there had been a mistake. Terry looked exactly like a 16-year-old girl. Not the kind of girl one sees in school. You know the kind. Flannel shirt. Holey jeans. Birkenstocks. Terry looked like a girl who was trying to impress a man. He (or was it she?) was wearing stockings and four-inch pencil heels. He had a micro-miniskirt that showed off a stunning pair of long legs. His makeup was perfect on his perfectly gorgeous face. And his ass invited sex. Terry kissed Justin on the cheek and said, "I'm so happy you're here at Babydoll Boy, Honey. You've made the right choice. Wait until you see how scorching hot you'll be when our experts fix you up. And you'll dazzle your date tonight for sure. Oh, and by the way. I'm a boy. If you don't believe me, reach under my skirt." Justin did so. And felt a titanium-hard, seven-incher. Was Terry going to take Justin to bed and FUCK him? Not on that afternoon's agenda. Instead, Justin went through a dazzling program of conversion to pseudo-girlishness. A phalanx of cute, lingerie sissyboys shaved all the hair below his eyebrows, including the seven strays around his anus, powdered him and perfumed him. They fixed his hair to look a bit girly and made his face up in a manner that riveted him to the mirror to admire his "better-than-any-girl" feminine-like beauty. He managed to hold back the spermy paratroopers until they put his tan stockings and white garter belt on. Oh, the naughty sensuousness of cool nylon embracing his hairless legs! The silken panties rubbed against his foreskin-escapee stiffie and that was that for his first panties. Panties were so much better than cotton briefs. They were like getting rubbed off all day. He wasn't too happy about wearing a bra until he felt its silkiness on his nipples. Ahhh! Justin figured he would be getting a micro-miniskirt like Terry and a pair of those skyscraper heels. How would he ever walk in those? He wouldn't have to. Terry had Justin dressed in a schoolgirl outfit. Simple white blouse. Knee-length plaid skirt. School blazer from St. Travestia's Academy. And, thank goodness, black penny loafers with actual pennies in them. In other words, every hetero man's naughtiest dream. A beautiful, intensely-feminine, quite-underage "schoolgirl" who wouldn't get pregnant or rat the man out. And was too young to have fully studied the nagging, manipulation, and emasculation arts and sciences. Oh, yeah. And with a penis. Men don't admit it, but they like girlish penises. As Justin admired himself for a ridiculously long time, he did manage a clear thought. Where am I going with this? And with whom? He knew for sure what he would be doing. And why. How was up to his date that evening and night. About the date. When Terry was able to pry Justin away from the mirror, the teen princess said to the "schoolgirl," "Your date tonight is a 32-year-old, quite hunky man named Todd Bigload. This will be your third date with Todd, who met you online and has not yet fucked you. You did suck his cock on your first date, of course. Twice. And on your second date he sucked your girlish penis and ate that elegant ass of yours. But you told him that you're not `that kind of girl.' The kind who fucks on the first or second date. But you did hint strongly that tonight will be the night. "Your Mom and Daddy have met Todd, vetted him, and almost like him. So no problem there. In fact, your actual Daddy will be there in half an hour when Todd comes to pick you up." Justin was surprised at that. "I thought Daddy was..." "He was, but a date with me after you and Todd shove off was all the incentive he needed." Justin pondered that. So Daddy likes lingerie sissyboys, eh? Good to know. "Todd is taking you out to dinner tonight, then to his apartment. You're still wearing your school clothes because you will be taken off Buggerland tonight to a real restaurant, with non-Buggerland people. So it will look as if Todd is Daddy or uncle who picked the schoolgirl up and is taking her to eat. Got it?" "Yes. Sounds like fun. Is Todd handsome with a big cock?" "This is Buggerland, Honey. What do YOU think? Here's your purse. It has a tube of Spermbutt Anal Lubricant, $20 for cab fare if he gets too pushy, pepper spray if he gets really pushy, a small hairbrush, lipstick, and a handkerchief. Two extra pairs of panties, as well, in case you...you know. Oh. Your name tonight will be Susan. Not Susie. Susan. Let's roll." They rolled. At precisely 5:55 p.m., Daddy, Terry and "Susan" were gathered in a fake living room. Daddy looked stunned. He knew Justin was pretty and a great fuck (though Brady was better), but he never imagined that the boy could look so, so femininely ball-draining. The man looked as if he wanted to forget the night's agenda and just fuck Susan right there on the floor. But the one percent of his brain not ruled by his prick at that moment said, "Hey, dumbass. When you get home in two days, you can fuck Justin around the clock. Just look at how fuckworthy Terry is!" Which cooled Daddy off just enough that they could proceed. The doorbell rang at 6 sharp and Terry disappeared. Daddy answered and led Todd in. Oh dear! The newly-minted Susan was in love already. This guy was more masculine and hunky than anyone she had met thus far in her life, except for Biff Buggerall, of course. And Mr. Buggerall belonged to the world. Mr. Bigload's smile was broad and his big stiffie was busting his pants when he saw Susan. The new, part-time girl blushed. And hid behind her long eyelashes as she imagined the glorious night ahead. Followed perhaps by glorious, fuck-filled nights well into her sixties. Todd underwent pro-forma scrutiny from Daddy, who cautioned Todd about the consequences if he hurt Susan. Or didn't return her in at least fair condition by noon the next day. Parents can be so unreasonable! Susan's silk panties were rubbing her exposed cockhead. But she didn't want to shoot her spermies just yet. Good thing she had those two extra pairs of panties. FINALLY, Daddy let the two lovebirds go. It was already 6:03 and nobody was getting any younger. Mr. Bigload held Susan's hand all the way to his red, 1968 Mustang convertible, and watched her slide her stockinged legs all the way in. The conversation was just what Susan wanted to hear. About how beautiful she was. And how gloriously they would make love after dinner at his place. Susan was ready to ditch dinner, but she would enjoy it much more than she thought. They drove at least 15 miles beyond the limits of Buggerland, which convinced Susan that that time at least, they were truly off the property. A little German place called "Der Schnitzel Hof." Bavarian symbols, décor and menu. Three-quarters full. Almost every patron stopped eating when they came in. The women were all mentally on their backs, legs spread wide for Todd. The men were mentally fucking Susan. First her mouth. Then her pussy. Then her ass. They all thought Susan was a real girl. An incredibly sexy and pretty, underage girl with a non-virginal way about her. All that adoration was what a sissyboy lives for. That and big cock. Susan ate it up. As she did her jaeger schnitzel and spaetzle. Susan's confidence about being a lingerie sissy soared. Which was clearly Mr. Buggerall's point. With that good feeling inside her, she was ready for Mr. Bigload inside her. It was only five minutes to Mr. Bigload's apartment. Two minutes to get inside. Two more minutes for Mr. Bigload to strip nude and Susan to strip to her bra, panties, stockings and garter belt. Mr. Bigload kissed Susan deeply and completely. Thrilling every cell in her amazing body. He kissed her neck as he unhooked her bra and fed on her stiff, sensitive nipples. "Oh, Mr. Bigload," she said. "That's so awesome. But if you keep that up...my panties...oh! Todd pulled away just in time. Gave Susan time to edge back. Then sat on the couch and beckoned Susan to stand in front of him. The man then removed the panties from the sissyboy's perfect body. Kissing each pore as he exposed it. Susan was dazed with lust. When Todd lifted her panties up and over her pulsing penis, Susan gasped. She was totally exposed to a powerful, sexually-feral man. A man who, like most men, was only interested in one thing. And would FORCE her to do sexual gymnastics with him all night and morning. Wasn't it incredible? Susan's former persona as a top seemed so distant. Justin had been a bottom to a reinforced infantry platoon of men on this trip and had loved every picosecond of it. Susan had been treated as someone whom men took out and showed off proudly. Not someone who was fucked in hiding. Oh dear. Mr. Bigload was licking Susan's knob as he cuddled the pretty schoolgirl's needy balls. Now he was kissing and licking Susan's balls as he slid a naughty finger up the only pussy Susan would ever have. But it was a very good pussy. Mr. Bigload was a gentleman and a skilled, loving lover, who wanted to make his lover feel lovely and loved. It was working. Mr. Bigload may make big loads, but few on this planet were bigger than the one Susan deposited in the man's hungry mouth. The evening was going really well. It got better. The couple shared an intense kissathon where at least half of Susan's spermload was licked back and forth in a tongue exchange for the record books. Then it was Susan's turn to suck Mr. Bigload's cock. But she didn't take that turn. Instead, she had Mr. Bigload sit at one end of the couch and she sat at the other. She extended her warm, stockinged feet to Mr. Bigload, where he kissed and sucked her toes until she asked him to stop. She then put her saliva-enriched feet on either side of Mr. Bigload's cock and gave him a stockinged foot job for the ages. Mr. Bigload's big load soon cascaded over Susan's feet. Nice move, Susan. Something differently delightful. Mr. Bigload's erection had only lost half of its stiffness and was massing for a counteroffensive when they retired to the bedroom. Where anal anality awaited. They were both way too excited and Susan had had way too much anal traffic for a nice, normal 35 minutes of asseating and finger dilation. They took the five-minute shortcut and, despite Mr. Bigload having the biggest cock so far in Buggerland (except for the Great Man, of course), the big guy's big guy slid home with ease. It was a nice, gentle fuck at first. With Susan emitting small yelps each time her prostate was tickled. Susan was actually the instigator of furor when she began to wiggle horizontally and piston vertically as her man gave her a proper seeing-to. Mr. Bigload got the message. And turned on the afterjets. Let's categorize it as a vigorous fuck. With lots of squealing and moaning. A real bit of knock-down-drag-out humpage. Concluded by a seismic event that alerted the world observers tracking nuclear testing. Wow! "Are we ever gonna get together when I go back to my farm?" Susan asked. "I'll visit you at least once a month, I swear." "Can we do it again now?" "Sure. Just let me call in and raise the value of my life insurance first, OK?" Fifteen minutes later, they were at it again. Hot and heavy. Justin liked being Susan. Seven -- Bye, bye, Buggerland The Cumwells' car was loaded with their luggage and Daddy almost had the keys. Not because the concierge was waiting for a tip. Daddy had already given him $50. He was in a very good mood. Mainly because Terry and he were kissing goodbye after 48 hours of man-lingerie-sissyboy sex. Terry had agreed to visit Daddy at least once a month. Justin/Susan, who had the same agreement with Mr. Bigload, was kissing him goodbye as well. For the trip, Justin was dressed as Justin. And would do so except when sex was imminent. Which, except for school, would be pretty much all the time. Where were Mom and Brady? OK. There was Brady, playing kissyface and hand-down-the-back-of-the- shorts with Biff Buggerall. It appears that they had enjoyed Brady's last 24 hours in Buggerland together. What a marvelous week! But where was Mom? Oh. There she was. Looking as if she had had a massive makeover. Wearing a pretty, summer dress, stockings and four-inch stiletto heels. Wow! But that's not all. She was alternating good-bye kisses with a stunning, big-breasted, long-legged woman and a man who looked as if he was on parole after seven years for armed robbery. Just what she had wanted. But no questions were asked and no answers were given. As the boys stripped to get into the backseat for sex on the drive home, Brady didn't even ask Justin why he was wearing black stockings and a garter belt under his clothes. He just said, "I missed you, brother," then took Justin's prick into his mouth and sucked. The real stunner was when they were three miles clear of Buggerland. Mom fished Daddy's pride and joy out of his pants, leaned over, and fellated him eagerly until she had something tasty to swallow. The family that buggers together, stays together. Please tell me what you think at beautifulcreamer@yahoo.com or bc20002015@hotmail.com.