Date: Tue, 12 Jan 2016 12:19:02 -0600
From: hybb543@vfemail.net
Subject: A Thug, a Gentleman, and a Sissy-boy

A Thug, a Gentleman, and a Sissy-boy

"I'm not gay," I repeated, this time a little more insistently. It seemed a
ridiculous statement to make given the scene I found myself in. But I
believed it with all my heart.

Chop eyed me intently from above. The room was dark, but I could make out
that he was nodding his head from side to side. I then heard him tsk his
tongue in disgust and say:

"When a man kneels in front of another man waiting to suck his dick, that
man is gay. Nothing more to it than that."

I was that man and it was his cock I was waiting to suck.

"Look, I don't even get hard. That proves I'm not excited about doing
this," I said. I got onto my feet and started to unclasp my pants to show
him, when Chop boomed in a voice so loud that it made my cock shrink even
smaller:

"Damn! I don't want to see yo shit! That'd make me gay as you are. Get back
down there, cracka! Half the niggas come through my place go soft when they
smoke. If they didn't, I'd be forest green, moving my ho's on 'em," he
laughed.

Chop's 'place' was a crack house, although I learned long ago never to call
crack crack. That may be an acceptable term in popular culture, but to use
it around here marked you as an outsider. Not that I needed any help.
Growing up in a white middle-class suburb, I stuck out like a sore thumb. I
didn't even try to fit in.

I got back on my knees and waited for him to finish smoking his
cigarette. Chop sure was taking his sweet time. He seemed to revel in the
power he had over me. At 6'6, and a muscular 260, there was of course the
obvious size advantage he had over me. But add in that he was the head of a
gang and had a notorious reputation as a dangerous thug who may have been
responsible for a spate of recent murders in my city... well, that would
make anyone hesitant to be around him.

Not that I knew any of this coming here three hours ago. I had brought with
me a few $20 bills and planned to buy only a few rocks and then leave. I
was no fiend. Walking up the stoop to the abandoned house, I felt my knees
go weak with fear. Before I knocked this skinny black teen pops open the
screen door and says,

"What you want, white boy?"

"I'm looking for some. I got money."

"You a cop?"

"No."

He sized me up for a minute or two. "Ok, but you smoke here."

That was not something I wanted to do. I planned on going back to the
safety of my house to smoke, but he must of figured no cop smokes crack.
What the hell, I thought, smoke a little here, earn my bona fides, and I
won't need to anymore in the future. So I followed him inside down a dark
hallway.  We passed a near pitch black room where someone had just struck a
lighter. I could make out a wild looking black man with a fat topless black
woman sitting across from him stroking his thighs.

"Yo. In there." My guide pointed to a small room. A closet, really, set up
like an office. The guy behind the little desk looked up. He motions to me.

I step inside, pull out two twenties and say "Forty-piece."

"You gonna want more than that later?"

"Most likely."

He seemed to like my answer. Making the exchange, he called out to my guide
and instructed him to set me up in the 'big room.' It was there I first saw
Chop. There was no mistaking he was in charge, seated as he was at the far
end of the room in an upholstered chair while 7 or 8 others sat facing him
in the remaining metal chairs. He was telling them a story. As I walked in,
he stopped and all eyes fell on me for a moment longer than what is
customary when someone first enters a room. To say I was terrified would be
an understatement. Any one of these thuggish looking brutes I'd feel
threatened by if I encountered him alone on the street. But all together
here in this house? My hands began to visibly shake.

"Rap! Get up and vacate your chair to our guest," Chop said to the kid
sitting directly across from him.  Rap didn't look too pleased about this
and shot me a look. I started to protest, saying I'd be leaving soon anyway
after I took a hit, but Rap said it would be he that was leaving. Two
others joined him, glaring at me as they passed, one mouthing something
about me being white.

"Never mind them, they had no mammas. I'm Chop. What they call you?" I told
him, and with that Chop welcomed me into in his big room where he continued
to speak of his past exploits to his men.  His boys, really. Chop was
easily in his 50s, they being in their late-teens or early-20s. But he was
alpha male not by age alone. It was the whole way he conducted himself.
Sitting there with his legs spread wide apart, it looked like nothing or no
one could move him. I also noticed that no one in the room dared object
when some of the details in his stories became outlandish. And all the
while he was weaving his stories, he'd shoot me these looks that made me
feel exhilarated. I chalked it up to the crack I was smoking and thought
little of it. But he did seem to like me despite there being almost nothing
in common between us. I began to fantasize about being a gangster. His
gangster. But I had no illusions. I was only a paying customer and when my
money ran out I would need to go.

After about three hours it was only Chop and me left in the room. The whole
house was now quiet and empty. I pulled out my last piece and said as much
to Chop. He watched me melt it onto the ash in my gun, raise it to my lips,
flame the end and suck. We both watched white turn orange, then red, then
as my head jilted back as the hit took. Through the seemingly endless white
smoke I exhaled into the room I saw Chop looking at me, intensely. I
studied his dark face. He had a large brow and set back black eyes, a broad
nose and thick lips. His hair was corn-rowed tight to his scalp. One cheek
had a raised scar running across it to his ear, while most of his front
teeth were capped in gold. In a word, he looked and played the part of a
tough street thug through and through. I physically felt fear in my body
being alone with him, something that ran deep in my loins, near the base of
my spine. I don't know what I feared more, the predatory look he gave me,
or the fact that that look fatally attracted me to him. He was an absolute
beauty of raw masculinity.

The high began to wear off and I felt grounded enough to stand up. I wanted
to leave before it was completely gone. He held me back and talked for
another 20 minutes until it was and I desperately wanted to get high again.
Sensing this, Chop reached into the heavy glass ashtray on the arm of his
chair and held up a fat boy between his thumb and index finger.

"Here, this is yours."

"But I don't have any money left."

"You don't need any money. Come here, it's yours." And with that, he placed
it on the end of his knee. Confused, I got up and went over to him. It was
easily a $60 piece. He must really like me, I thought. I bent down to take
it, but he grabbed my wrist and firmly pulled me down towards the floor so
that I had little choice but to sit down in front of him.

"I have something else for you as well," he said, pointing with both hands
at his lap. He glared at me.

I sat back in shock. I had never messed around with a guy before and the
thought rarely if ever crossed my mind. And when it did, it was always in
revulsion. But somehow it was a distinct possibility now. I was curious,
I'll admit. More importantly, I was horny. It was the crack, I reasoned.
Devilish drug. Always made me want to fuck everything in sight, but gave me
a limp dick so I could do nothing about it. What Chop was proposing somehow
seemed like a solution of sorts, although at the time this was hardly
something I could admit to myself.

I rose to my knees, picked up that piece from Chop's knee and placed it
into my front shirt pocket. It was all about the crack, you see? I thought
to myself. Although if you stopped me at that point to ask me why I wasn't
smoking it, I'd be hard-pressed to give you an answer. In retrospect, I was
getting high in another way.

I wasn't sure just how to proceed. I placed both of my hands on Chop's
knees. I couldn't believe I was about to service another man! Suddenly I
felt extremely vulnerable, half-expecting to be cracked across the skull
with that glass ashtray for reaching for his cock. But one look at Chop's
face confirmed for me that if I backed out now, I might very well get that
ashtray for the exact opposite reason. Still looking into his eyes, my
hands trembling, I reached up to his waist and began to fumble with the top
button of his jeans. He clucked his tongue and began to unzip and slide his
jeans off himself. With the little light that made it through the closed
blinds, I could see the bulge in his tighty-whities. This was the moment of
truth. I decided that my virgin cock-contact would not be made with my
hands. I leaned forward and nuzzled my face in his crotch. His cock was
semi-hard and curled up in an arc. The scent and warmth of it! My body
stirred. It wasn't my cock that was responding, though. It was something
else, something deep inside me.

"You white boys all the same. You just love the black dick," he chuckled.
"Go ahead, breathe that shit it." I did just that for the next few
minutes. I must have been holding my breath at one point, because I exhaled
suddenly and it sounded like a moan of excitement and I grew embarrassed.
But I couldn't stand it any longer and reached up and hooked my fingers
under the top elastic and exposed his manhood, my face just inches away.
His fleshy cock instantly began to stir, uncoiling as it slowly engorged
with blood. I understood that Chop's underwear had been confining it. Now
unrestrained, it almost leapt against my face and into my hands as it
grew. I was in awe. Within seconds it easily dwarfed my own cock when I was
fully erect. And it still had room to grow! I thought of my own little
shriveled cock right now tucked away in my pants. It was humbling. Shaming,
really. I'm no man, I thought. Not when I was in the presence of such
masculinity. I suddenly felt deeply fortunate to be on my knees before him.

That's when he started in calling my names. Gay, faggot, etc. And that's
when I started to protest. I was convinced that because I didn't get hard,
that proved I didn't truly like cock. To Chop it proved just the opposite.

"Think about it. Does a girl get hard?" he asked. "No, she does not. That's
because she has no dick.  And that's basically what you are right now. A
little girl who can't get hard. So she has to turn to someone who can get
hard. A man. It's a simple equation: you dat girl, I'm dat man," he said,
pointing first at me, then at himself.

"I'm no little girl."

"Fine. You a boy. But a... you're a... sissy-boy," and with that he beamed.
"Sissy-boy!" He knew he won the argument. More importantly, he knew that I
knew he won the argument. He reached down to stroke my head like I was a
pet. As I looked up meekly at him, he kept repeating "You a sissy-boy.  You
my sissy-boy. Good little sissy-boy."

I didn't like that name, but I did like how it made me feel: completely
owned by this large, older black man. To add to my humiliation, he stroked
my lips with his rough thumb and then hooked it into my mouth. I
instinctively closed my mouth around it and sucked, looking submissively
into his eyes. His cock leapt up fully erect at that point and tapped me on
my chin. What about me, it seemed to say. I pulled his thumb from my mouth
and grabbed the base of his cock and pulled the skin down tight into his
balls. This made it rise off his belly and stand upright. I took advantage
of this and stuck the tip of my pinky into the base of his cock and
stretched my thumb towards its tip. I knew that the distance between my
outstretched pinky and thumb was exactly 9 inches and could see that his
cock extended to just about the knuckle of my thumb. This made him an 8
inch wonder. Eight delicious inches of majestic dark cock. I leaned forward
and rolled my tongue around that soft, sensitive area just under a cock's
head where it is jammed packed with nerves. Chop shifted and spread his
knees a bit to give me more access. He tossed his head back and gave me a
"Gawd damn, sissy-boy!"

I stopped, wanting him to look back down and watch as I took his cock into
my mouth. Never taking my eyes off of his, I aimed his cock towards my
mouth, pealed back my lips, and placed his cockhead between my exposed
teeth. I gave him a playful bite. He seemed to like that. So I sunk my
teeth into his rubbery cockhead a little more while lapping my tongue on
that sensitive spot.

"Man, I tell you. There ain't nothing finer than a white sissy-boy chewing
on his first black dick," he said, as I closed my eyes with utter abandon
and took his cock in my mouth as far as it would go.

"Tell me you like that dick. Tell me," Chop instructed. I started to
withdraw my mouth from him, but he pushed me back down on it again.

"No, tell me with me inside you." Of course I couldn't, the width of his
cock filled me so I couldn't talk clearly. But I tried and he gloried in my
muffled voice.

"Right there is where you white sissy-boys belong," he said, stroking my
head again. I nuzzled my head against his hands and purred, nibbled on his
fat cockhead a little more, then withdrew my mouth and lightly kissed his
belly. I still made sure to pump his cock with one of my hands to keep him
excited though, even when I reached up further and pressed my cheek against
his broad chest.  His muscular pecs deserved a kiss, I decided, so I
planted a big wet one there and went on to kiss his muscular neck.

"Ain't you a hungry little bitch?" Chop teased, surprising me with a quick
kiss on my forehead.  "Looking to play all lovey-dovey before its time. But
you need to earn that, see? That don't come for free, you know. So get your
ass back down there, and we'll see about all that later." He was reading me
like a book, knowing what I wanted before I even knew. But he was right. I
had to earn his affection. So I dropped back to my knees and grabbed his
long cock at its very base, sinking both my hands into his balls. When I
squeezed, the blood rushed in and thickened his cock. What amazed me was
how large his cockhead could swell. It was now literally too big to put
into my mouth. So I released my grip and it shrank back down, and sucked
the cockhead back into my mouth. I then blew it back up again with another
squeeze. This forced my lower jaw down to its breaking point. It was
glorious. His cockhead filled every cubic inch of my mouth. Nature never
created a more wonderful thing than a man's cock.

For the next ten minutes I tried every technique of cock-sucking that had
ever been tried on me, carefully noting Chop's response each time I tried
something new. Sometimes what I did fell flat. But other times I saw him
respond and I increased and varied that technique. I was learning that
being a good cocksucker was all about staying in tune with your man. You
were to put the man first. But far from giving you nothing in return, this
actually gives you more than you ever had before. You see, triggering a
man's desire triggers your own desire, which leads to your own pleasure. So
I was in no way playing second fiddle when I put myself at Chop's
disposal. Strange as it was, I was actually the true conductor of this
little sexual orchestra.

"You doin' real fine, sissy," Chop said, gazing down at me from lowered
eyelids. I was grasping his cock with both hands just underneath his
cockhead and rigorously rubbing it across the front of my closed
teeth. "Don't stop. Keep going," he muttered, sinking further back into
this chair.  "Harder...faster...." He sits up and grips the arms of his
chair, urging me on with a comical facial grimace. I rub faster and
suddenly my teeth become very slick as his cockhead explodes in a spurt of
hot cum. Chop rips his cock out of my hands and directs the remaining
spurts into my gaping mouth and onto my lips, chin and cheeks. It was
humiliating. Demeaning. I wish he had more.

I can't exactly say I liked the taste of cum that first time. I've since
grow to love it, though. It's one of those acquired tastes. But I
nevertheless made a big show of how great it was for Chop. When he removed
his hands after his last spurt, I licked my lips and proceeded to wipe the
cum off my face with his cockhead, which I then lovingly licked clean while
he watch me from above. I felt like I was his.

He puts himself away and zips up. I think: what a typical male! Cums and
wants to sleep or take off, when all I want to do is cuddle. He's about to
throw me out now, I know, and I feel like crying. He stands up and extends
his hand down to me. I give him my hand, real daintily. At least he's being
nice about it. Treating me like a lady.

"C'mon, we're leaving," he says.

"Where we going?" I ask, rising to my feet. The top of my head is at his
chine - he's well over half a foot taller than me. He pulls me in close,
effortlessly, and reaches down to knead my ass.

"Back to my crib. I'm gonna make sweet love to you, sissy-boy."

I'm sooooo ecstatic that this is not the ending! But I was also terrified
at what 'making loving' meant in the context of him grabbing my ass. He
couldn't mean fucking me, could he? With what he's got between his legs?

I had a lot of time to think about this. The drive from the crack house to
his 'crib' took about 20 minutes. He was mostly silent the entire way. I
noticed he was driving to a very nice area of the city and I was surprised
when we drove up to a luxury apartment building.

"You wait here for 5-10 minutes. I'll go in first and then buzz you up." I
guess he didn't want to be seen with a guy, which was ok because I wasn't
exactly prepared to be seen with one as well.

When he opened his door and invited me in, I was amazed at how spacious his
apartment was. And it was decorated not at all like I thought it would
be. Here a successful and respectable businessman lived. Not a dangerous
criminal.

"C'mon in, make yourself comfortable. I'll put some music on." Even his
demeanor was changed. He put on some 1970s R&B and poured some
drinks. Expensive scotch. He could play the thug, I thought, but he could
also play the gentleman. I gulp my drink down quickly to calm my nerves and
watched him move from room to room, carrying items into what must have been
the bathroom. He comes out and tells me I'll find everything I need in
there: shower, towels, razors, waxing kit, fresh clothes and make-up.

"Get to it. I'll be in the other bathroom, taking a shower. If there is
anything else you need, just come and find me," Chop says. I go in and look
at all the stuff on the sink counter. There's even a douche- kit.

"Chop, you think I know how to use half this stuff?" I ask.

"Just do your best. Use your feminine instincts. I know you have them. And
relax. I'd never laugh at how you look. You're my little sissy-boy,
remember?" I return his warm smile and turn back towards the bathroom.

"Oh, and by the way, Chop's my street name. My given name is Raymond. Call
me Ray."

"Ok," I said. I shut the door and I'm beaming! I have no idea what's in
store for me, but at least I no longer feel the least bit threatened. Chop,
I mean, Ray is actually a nice guy and is really interested in me. But I
look down at all this feminine stuff and feel overwhelmed. I decide to deal
with it later, after I take a shower.

Turns out that was the right move. The shower made the waxing and shaving
go much easier. I managed to remove all the hair from my ass, legs,
stomach, chest and arm pits. I trimmed around my cock and balls. I shaved
my face very close. I douched three times. I showered again. I put scented
talc on my hairless body. I painted my nails red. Even my toes. I applied
make-up to my face the best I could: lipstick, mascara, eyeliner and
rouge. I even gathered up my hair on each side of my head into cute
ponytails. The hair I couldn't get into the elastic bands I secured down
with just about the cutest set of butterfly barrettes you've ever seen.

I then turned to the clothes Ray selected for me. There was a baby-blue
nightie. Or teddy. Not sure what to call it, but something a woman might
wear when she's treating her man to a special night in bed. The fabric was
sheer, very thin, you could see right through it. It wasn't a single piece,
but had many pieces to it. All the ends had a white fuzzy trim and the
bottom piece didn't extend much below my hips. There were little matching
panties that fit me snug, but they successfully covered up my flaccid cock
and balls. I looked in the mirror at my behind. The panties made my ass
look really feminine. Lastly, there were these little girly white socks
with frills on the top. They made my legs looks to die for!

Fully assembled, I stepped back and bounced playfully around, my ponytails
bobbing up and down. I felt so girly. But I also felt completely
ridiculous. That lasted, however, only until I opened the bathroom door and
saw Ray's reaction. He was sitting on the sofa reading the paper with
bifocals. He was freshly showered and sported preppie clothes. He put down
his glasses and paper and looked at me. I became self-conscious and looked
at my feet. I was standing there pigeon-toed in those girly socks and
clawing at the carpet with the toes of one foot. He's going to laugh, I
know it. I wanted to cry. I looked up shyly and saw that he was
smiling. No, he was beaming with pride! He extends his arms out to me and
says in his deep voice,

"Come here my darling!" I practically run to him, planting myself on his
lap and begin swinging my legs off his lap.

"You like?" I giggled.

"Do I like?" Running a hand along my hairless legs, he answers, "Sweetie,
what is not to like? You turned out better than I had hoped. Stand in front
of me and let me get a good look at you."

I stand and raise my arms above my head and twist my lower body, turn
around and swivel my ass towards the ground. He reaches out and clasps my
buttocks, slipping a finger or two under my panties. I playfully scamper
away and turn to wag my finger.

"Naughty, naughty boy!" I scold, pursing my lips together.

"No hair there either?"

"Nope," I say proudly. I then pull down my lower lip with my index finger
and nod my head from side to side. "Only...." I quickly collapse at his
feet and look up. "Only I know what you're thinking and don't know if it's
possible. I mean, I want you inside me. Boy, how I want you inside me," I
clasp my hips, close my eyes and open my mouth and let out a moaned
breath. I then grasp his knees and look up at him, saying in all
seriousness, "But I've never had a man that way and well, you are so large
and I know it will hurt."

Ray takes my hands into his and looks into my eyes and says in just as
serious a tone, "We will take it slow. I promise not to hurt you. Come
here, sugar." He raises me up and gives me a soul kiss than makes my knees
weak with desire. I decide then and there I will give myself to him with
complete abandon.

He stands me up and draws me against his chest and we slowly begin to dance
to the music that has been playing since I first got there. Ray's hands are
on my waist and my hands are entwined around his neck. I feel protected and
safe. I can feel his semi-hardness against my stomach and I stir. He asks
me what I'm thinking. I'm not sure if I should tell him. He may not like
it. But I cock my head up to his ear and whisper,

"Before Ray the gentleman makes love to me, I want Chop the thug to fuck
me." He looks down at me, pondering my request for a minute or two.

"Are you sure, honey?"

"As long as you promise not to hurt me, yes, I'm sure."

"Well then, get your sissy-ass down there. Damn, bitch!" Chop suddenly
commands, pointing for me to sit at his feet. I do at once. "Don't move,
I'll be right back." I immediately think I made a mistake.  But I know that
what stirred me initially was being with Chop and I very much wanted my
first fuck to be with him. He comes back into the room with what looked
like a rolled up yoga mat, only it was wider. He unrolls it and tells me to
get on all fours and think about how I'm going to get my white sissy-ass
fucked by a big black bull. He leaves me alone again.

I have no idea where he went. I turn around on all fours so that my
upturned ass will be the first thing he sees when he walks back in. That's
when I first notice the full length mirror hanging near the front of the
apartment. In the mirror I saw a pig-tailed little sissy-boy all dolled up
wearing a baby blue nightie. She's on all fours with her ass arched into
the air. I can see she's pondering a dilemma: what pleases a man more, a
girl with her knees close together so it brings out the fullness of her
ass, or knees wide apart so it serves as an invitation to his advance?

She doesn't have to wait long to find out, for in the corner of the mirror
a large black man approaches her. He's dressed thuggish: jeans hanging down
off his hips, a dark blue hoodie pulled up over his head, gold chains on
his wrists and tan construction boots. In his hand is a chrome-plated
gun. The sissy-boy's muscles tense.

"Yo, I hear you lookin' for black dick! That what you want, bitch?" the
thug says threateningly to the sissy-boy. He bends over her and hooks the
barrel of the gun under her panties and peels them halfway down to her
knees. The sissy-boy recoils from the coldness of the gun.

"What do we have here?" he asks, putting the gun on the table and dropping
to one knee. He runs a finger along the crack of her ass. It's moist to the
touch, but not enough to his liking. He reaches into his front jeans pocket
and pulls out a small bottle of KY. He puts a large glob on the tip of his
index finger and inserts it somewhat roughly into the sissy-boy's anus. She
lets out a whimper and arches her back. The thug takes this as
encouragement and inserts his middle finger as well. He thinks to himself
how loose and ready this bitch is for his touch. He leans forward and takes
a playful, yet serious bite into the sissy-boy's right buttock and begins
to wiggle his fingers inside her. As he massages her prostate, he notices
she begins to loosen up. So much so that he is able to slip not only the
index finger of his other hand into her, but the middle finger as
well. With four fingers now inside her, and the four remaining fingers
intertwined together, he slowly finger-fucks the sissy-boy with both his
arms. She moans and claws at the mat, from pain or pleasure he doesn't
know. Or care.  After awhile he can withdraw both hands and leave her anus
agape. She's ready.

The thug stands up and undresses. He is an astonishingly large man compared
to the slight sissy-boy at his feet. At once he's naked expect for his
socks, which he leaves on since he never fucks without his boots. He kneels
again and places his large cock, which is too large to stand perfectly
erect against his belly even when fully aroused, on top of the sissy-boy's
ass. Putting on a condom, the thug arches back to see if the sissy-boy is
still agape. She is and the thug thrusts forward, slowly and steadily, into
her waiting hole. It is not as wide as his cock, but it easily expands to
take the large cock head. Then it quickly clamps down, the sissy-boy's neck
snapping upward. She cries out in pain and the thug slaps her ass sharply,
then reaches around and places his fingers inside her mouth to muffle her
cry.

"Take it like a sissy-boy," says the thug, as he begins to slowly work his
cock in and out of her. She begins to relax and actually begins moving her
hips to and fro. "There, you see? White sissy-ass always accommodates big
black cock. That's the way it was meant to be. It's nature's plan." Try as
he might, however, he could not insert himself completely into the
sissy-boy. As he withdrew himself so he could turn her on her back, I took
one last look at the pony-tailed sissy-boy in the mirror. She looked ready
for whatever was to come.

Now on my back, Chop arranged a pillow underneath my hips and reinserted
himself. I tried to wrap my legs around him, but he caught them by the
front of the shins and pushed them down so that my knees were flat against
my chest. In this position he was able to fully penetrate me right up to
his balls. I didn't know how long I could take his full weight on top of
me. But for the moment I was lost in a new sensation. The tip of his long
cock was banging up against what I imagined was a nerve in my lower
back. This sent exquisite sexual stimulation up my spine and down the backs
of my legs. There was also the fact that his cock was so wide that it
couldn't help but rub my prostate with every thrust.

"Roy, I have to pee." I said, suddenly feeling a powerful urge to urinate.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I have to pee bad."

"Did you have this feeling a minute ago?"

"No. It just happened. I don't want to make a mess. Please. Let me up."

"I don't think you do, dear."

"Roy, I swear. If I push down, I know I'll piss all over the place."

"Push down then. I don't care about the mess. Chop might. I won't."

"What? Are you crazy? Just let me go pee, you big brute. Get off me. I'll
be right back."

"Push down, bitch!" Chop suddenly blurted out, grinding his cock down hard
into me. He looked to have found a spot that increased the pressure I felt
tenfold. I tried to wiggle away, but he was way too heavy. Like it or not,
I was going to have to pee right there.

"Please, no!" I pleaded. It would be terribly humiliating. I started to
tear up and knew that that would ruin my mascara. But Chop only pushed down
harder. I felt my bladder was going to burst. I needed relief. So I really
had no choice but to push down as well.

"Push! Push harder!" Chop cried, almost like an animal. I wasn't sure if he
was urging me on or himself. As I gripped his muscular forearms and pushed
down with all my strength I felt my flaccid penis suddenly give. Fully
expecting a stream of urine to flow out onto both of us, I looked down at
the same time as Chop. What we saw stunned us, or stunned me, at least. It
wasn't urine that emanated from my little penis, only this marble-size glob
of very thick cum. There was not a trace of that clear fluid that usually
accompanies globs of cum. There was only this chunky white glob, which now
rested on my stomach just below my belly button.

"Push again, hard!" cried Chop. I did. And again my flaccid penis burped up
another glob. And another push dislodged another glob. Then another, and
another. Five pushes and five cum globs in total.  None of these
ejaculations were pleasurable in any remote sexual sense. It was actually a
letdown if, in fact, this was the type of orgasm I was to have as a
sissy-boy. Oh well, I thought, at least I no longer have to pee. I looked
up inquisitively at my black bull.

"It happens sometimes with new sissy-boys. Their lovers have to clear their
pipes. Fuck the man out of them, so to speak," answered Roy.

"So I was right to have Chop fuck me first?" I asked.

"I think you were, baby-doll," answered Roy. "I think you were. Now we can
make love."

"You mean there's more to come?"

"Oh sissy, you have no idea what's in store for you," Roy whispered in my
ear, promising me full feminine release. Two hours later he delivered on
that promise.

Looking back I'm not sure where my true desire laid, with the thug or with
the gentleman. But I do know that that night put me on a sexual path that I
have no intention of ever leaving.

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