Stupid
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Stupid free porn video
It's about Humiliation and someone who's not yet at one
with his other self but is forcibly outed. Please don't
read it if you don't like the sound of this.
Stupid
Part I
By Sascha Davison.
"Oh... My... God!"
I turned and the blood drained from my face. My ex
girlfriend Deborah stood at the door to her room with an
expression of utter shock. This was not surprising really
because she had returned to her room to find me standing in
front of her full length mirror admiring myself wearing
only her best set of black satin underwear. My mouth
flapped open and shut a few times, but I couldn't think of
anything appropriate to say. I heard another pair of feet
running up the stairs behind her - this was about to get
twice as bad.
"Oh my God..." Deborah repeated, frozen to the spot.
"What's wrong Debs? What... ooooh, shit!" Isabelle our
Spanish flatmate walked straight past the frozen Deborah
and over to where I was standing. "Martin, I had no idea
you were into this kind of thing!" Isabelle smiled broadly
and started to circle round me.
At this point I was shaking, my hands moved from my sides,
up to the bra and then down to the bulging panties. I kept
my eyes fixed on Deborah. Her expression had not yet
evolved from her initial mask of horror.
"I'm... I'm s-sorry Deborah," I managed to whimper.
Isabelle began to chuckle as she stood behind me. "Nice ass
Martin!" she laughed as she pulled one of my, or rather
Deborah's, suspenders and let it snap back onto my thigh.
The impact made me jump ridiculously -I was feeling a
little uptight at this point- and I moved my hands to
protect my 'nice ass'. Isabelle started to laugh even more
at this. Deborah dropped the bags she was carrying and
finally her face changed expression. Not good. She started
to try to control her breathing. Isabelle stood by my side
with one hand over her mouth, the other pointing at my
groin.
"Oh God, look at his dick, Debs, he's got a hard on! You
like to dress in ladies' clothes Martin? Does it turn you
on?" she taunted.
Deborah had managed to get a grip on herself and unlike
Isabelle she didn't think all this was funny. She crossed
the room to me and slapped my face hard.
"How DARE you, you little pervert. How dare you come into
my room and wear my clothes" She pushed me back against her
cupboard door and slapped my face again three times. "You
fucking perverted little moron, what the FUCK do you think
you're doing." Her hands started to fly in a torrent of
blows.
"Please, Debs, I'm sorry." I managed pathetically in
between holding my hands up to shield my face. Isabelle
pulled Deborah away from me.
"Deborah, DEBORAH, calm down." she managed to haul Deborah
back across the room and they fell together onto the floor.
"Listen Deborah, I hate the little bastard too, but slow
down."
Deborah relaxed for a moment so Isabelle released her grip.
Deborah seized the opportunity and ran over and kicked me
full on in the balls. I fell to the floor clutching my
crotch, making a kind of mewing, gurgling noise as the pain
started to take me over. This seemed to satiate Deborah's
immediate anger as instead of continuing to attack me she
stood back and put her hands on her hips, tapping one of
her feet as she caught her breath. She looked down at my
writhing with a disgusted expression on her face. Every so
often she would shake her head or run her hands through her
long blonde hair.
"Deborah, please, don't..."
"Shut up you little shit." Deborah walked over to me and
looked down at me. I was still doubled up in agony from the
blow to my crotch. "What are you anyway, walking into my
room and dressing up in my underwear? A faggot? I swear you
little piece of shit that's it. What am I going to do with
you now you snivelling little... I bet that slut you're
sleeping with, what's she called?"
"'Sweet ickle Catherine'" Isabelle helped out. "I bet sweet
little Cathy doesn't know you like to do this. Oh yes, I
know she hates me from the way she looks at me, but I bet
she doesn't know that her boyfriend likes to sneak in when
I'm out, dress up in my underwear and parade round my
room!" She had brought her mouth close to my face and
suddenly I felt like I was in the army.
"Please, Deborah, don't tell..."
"I'll tell who I bloody well feel like telling and you'll
keep your stupid fucking mouth shut while I'm talking." On
this last word, she brought the heal of her boot hard down
into my stomach.
Deborah and I had been going out together on and off almost
since the first week of university up until a few months
before this. During that time, Deborah seemed to think that
she was free to sleep with as many other men as she wanted
to and there were no shortage of willing studs attracted to
her slim body, one wiggle of her shapely bum on the dance
floor and they were getting in line. However, she and her
best friend Isabelle had always managed to convince me
later that I was the unreasonable one for complaining.
Besides, she could convince well in the bedroom.
Later, in what turned out to be a terrible decision,
Deborah, Isabelle my friend Sean and I moved into the same
apartment but in different rooms - hers above mine.
Everything was going a bit better until one night when she
brought someone else to her room and I had to lie awake all
night listening to him bringing her to shrieking orgasms a
few metres above my head. It was when I realised to my
disgust that the sound of this man pounding my girlfriend
had given me a huge erection that I began to cry and I
decided enough was enough. I couldn't afford to move out
and lose the deposit, but I wasn't going to put up with
this any longer, even though I still loved Deborah. I went
and found a new girlfriend, Cathy.
Cathy was the polar opposite of Deborah. Although she
looked sexy enough, very beautiful with shoulder length
wavy black hair, a small pouty mouth, and a petite but
curvaceous body, she had only had sex on a few occasions
before she met me and was extremely awkward in bed. The sex
was pretty lousy in fact and although she said that she
enjoyed it, I don't think I made her come once. She loved
me though, and she didn't take me for granted, so I was
happy for the first time in years.
Deborah didn't like the fact that I was doing okay without
her and things at home started to deteriorate. She found a
new boyfriend, Geoff, who had more muscles in his right arm
than I had in my whole slim body and they proceeded to
embark on a nightly marathon of house shaking. She, and
Isabelle, picked at every little thing that I did. I tried
to keep things cool by doing more than my fair share of
cleaning and staying out of their way, but the atmosphere
grew so bad that Sean decided to move out, leaving me with
the Hitler sisters.
Now our flat had four rooms, and Sean's room was as big as
the rest of the house put together. Sean was working, so he
could afford the proportionally higher rent, but after he
moved out we were unable to find a replacement, and being
broke and still angry with Deborah, I had flatly refused to
pay my share, leaving Deborah and Isabelle with massive
rent bill that they could ill afford with their student
incomes. They had got very mad at this, but seeing as the
contract was in Deborah's name (she liked to be in charge
of everything) they had no choice but to take extra jobs.
Since then atmosphere had become explosive.
So how did I end up in her underwear? Well, how can I put
it, yes that's it, I was stupid. I'd been a closet
crossdresser since I was a small boy. No-one had ever known
that I like to wear lingerie. Somehow the fact that it was
Deborah's underwear excited me more. Panties that had
covered her wiggling bottom. Stockings that actually had
been used to drive men wild. Pair that with the obvious
risk that she hates my guts, and it all become too much of
a heady cocktail for me to resist.
Up until that point, my cross-dressing and my real life
were not the same thing. That afternoon, doubled up in pain
on Deborah's bedroom floor wearing bra, panties, stockings
and suspenders, I got the distinct impression that my two
worlds were about to collide.
Isabelle had managed to convince Deborah to sit down next
to her on the edge of her bed and they lit up cigarettes.
Still writhing on the floor, I saw that Isabelle was still
trying desperately to suppress a laugh whilst Deborah was
staring at me with disgusted half closed eyes, blowing
smoke out from between her thin lips. She started talking
to Isabelle.
"Right, I'm phoning the police, I'm going to get him
arrested."
"Relax, Debs, try to see the funny side. I think he looks
quite cute. Bit hairy, but he's got great legs."
"There's nothing funny about it, it's disgusting. How many
of my clothes has he worn?" the idea of this seemed to fill
her with rage again and I cowered as she came over to me
again. "Tell me, panty boy, how many of my clothes have you
worn."
"It's... the first time." I lied.
"I doubt it." She carefully placed the sharp heel of her
boot on the soft bit of my neck below my Adam's apple. She
smiled at me as if she had just given me my change in a
shop and said lightly, "Don't move, or I'll kill you.
Isabelle go and search his room."
I squirmed at these words and she drove the heel into the
soft flesh until I was having trouble breathing. After a
few seconds she let off a bit, but I wasn't going anywhere.
Isabelle ran down to my room and I heard things being flung
about. I decided to try and reason with Deborah.
"Please, Deborah, I'm begging you, please, don't tell
anyone, I swear, I'll do anything you want. What do you
want? I'll give you money. I'll find someone for the extra
room."
"Oh please, shut up Martin, we both know you've got no
money, and I'm in no mood for grovelling. As for what's
going to happen now, well that all depends upon what
Isabelle finds in your room, doesn't it?" she raised one of
her eyebrows in a very knowing way and smiled a very thin
smile.
I wasn't worried about Isabelle finding anything though,
since in order to find any of my 'things', you had to take
out the entire inside back wall of the fitted cupboard to
reveal the hole in the bricks. I was at least happy that I
would only have to explain this one incident when I heard a
sharp crack from downstairs and the familiar creaking noise
of, yes you've guessed it, the back wall of the cupboard
falling forwards and crashing onto the floor. Isabelle let
out a whoop and I could hear her crawling across the wood
towards the hole in the brick. Suddenly a horrible thought
crossed my mind. I needed to get down there.
The feeling of power seemed to have calmed Deborah's nerves
so I tried desperately. "Please, Deborah, Let me go..."
"Shush now, sweetie, just wait a minute."
I heard loud expression of gleeful surprise from downstairs
and then, quietly. "Cacorro, mierda, maricon, you little
English marica." I heard feet running upstairs and Isabelle
burst into the room. She wasn't laughing anymore.
"Look what the LITTLE SHIT did to my pants!!" she held up
an expensive pair of French knickers I had stolen from her
room some months ago.
There was a huge white semen stain at the front of them.
She ran over to me and started to beat me around the head
with them swearing in Spanish. Finally she paused for
breath.
Deborah smiled down at this. "So, now you know how it feels
to have some little worm going through your undies
Isabelle. Did you find anything else"
"Just some shitty magazines, they're over on the bed."
"Please, I'm sorry." I tried.
"CALLATE EL PINCHE HOCICO, MARICA!" Isabelle noisily
cleared her nose and spat the results out onto my face.
Deborah started to flick through my magazines. "Oooh, all
with men dressed up as ladies, it seems that this is a bit
of a long term interest with you Martin? OH look at that!"
She ran over to Isabelle and showed her a picture of a
transvestite sucking a large penis. And then she thrust the
full page spread into my face.
"I bet you wish that was you sucking his cock, don't you...
you little faggot! Well I think that you're in trouble now,
don't you agree." Now that she had calmed down I could see
the wheels turning in her head. I knew her well and that
was why I was scared. "You've been acting like a complete
arsehole over the past few months and now we come and find
that you've been stealing our underwear, dressing like a
girly and reading dirty magazines. I don't know how we're
going to be able to keep it secret, do you Isabelle? And to
think, I slept with you."
"You were right, let's call the police." said Isabelle.
"Please don't do that Isabelle, I'm sorry for everything,
I'm sorry I've been such a shit to you."
Deborah walked slowly back and sat on the edge of the bed.
She casually flicked through the magazines. Isabelle threw
the French knickers down on the ground and stormed over to
sit by Deborah, fuming. After a minute or so, Deborah
closed the magazine and put it down by her side.
"Listen, you little pussy, you're going to do exactly what
we say, and if you don't, I'm going to tell everybody you
know, all of your family and friends exactly what you've
been up to."
"Please, I'll do anything you want, anything." I got up on
my elbows; apparently there was a glimmer of hope.
"Oh, I know you will, sweetie."
Isabelle wasn't feeling so forgiving. "DEBORAH? I want to
wring his scrawny little neck! What are you saying?"
Deborah put her hand on her friends back. "Relax Isabelle,
we'll see him suffer, don't worry. If we call the police,
he'll get put away. Sure I'd love to see what his friends
say when they find out, not to mention what the other
inmates would do when they find out why he's inside. But
that won't solve our financial problem. I think I've got a
better way to do that." She turned to me "Listen, sissy,
Isabelle and I are going to go and have a little chat. You
get back to your own room and stay there."
I started to take off the underwear but Deborah stopped me.
"Leave it on, you think I want that back now?"
"And take my pants with you too, shit-head!" spat Isabelle.
"Just leave your magazines for us and get lost, there's a
good little girl." said Deborah, and I did.
As I sat in my room, I thought about my situation. I kept
on asking myself again and again how I could have been so
stupid to get caught by those two, and what would happen if
my friends found out. I didn't know what they had planned
for me, but I thought it could only be better than having
my big secret outed.
I though again about being kicked and spat at and having my
deepest secrets thrown into my face. I thought about those
two beautiful women upstairs, disgusted with me. Every so
often I heard laughter coming down stairs. I sat down to
wipe the spit off my face and started to sob. I could smell
the saliva on the tissue as I cleaned the gooey mess. I
went to throw the tissue in the bin, but I hesitated and
brought it to my nose. I felt like I'd been hit by a train.
As I smelled the spit on the tissue I remembered the
expression of disgust on Isabelle's face as she spat at me
and a wave of total humiliation came over me. Gingerly, I
dipped my tongue into the spit on the tissue and then I
noticed that once more, I had an erection straining against
the thin material of the panties.
Tears rolled down my face as I started to touch myself.
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