Batwoman meets Catwoman Part One
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Not The Man I Never Was free porn video
Not the Man I Never Was
Rated: X
By
Dawna Tompson
April 2006
It's not easy breaking difficult news to a loved one far away
Dear Snuggles,
I think our relationship has hit a snag and I'm not sure how to explain
it. I want to make this easy on you. I still care deeply for you and
don't want to see you hurt in any way. I've never held any resentment
toward you for any of the things you've ever said or done to me. So let
me see if I can explain what's happened, and let you down as gently as
possible.
You know that being so far away from you for so long and being cooped up
living with all these guys has just proved a little too difficult for me.
I've already told you how Pete and I spend some pretty long hours
together. Hell, we work all day, eat together, and live in the same
cramped bunkhouse day after day. After a while, with all those idle hours
to whittle away, we sometimes get to talking about things that guys don't
usually share with one another. A couple of weeks ago we began our
evening in our usual way with a few brews and then we smoked an enormous
joint. We started talking about what kind of woman turns us on the most.
Pete described how he likes slender women that have a slightly mannish
figure, sort of like the way I was built.
I wasn't sure if I was flattered or not. But we were feeling a little
crazy and one thing led to another and soon I was poising for him as his
"model." I pirouetted around the room a few times and even played with a
few suggestive movements with my hips. I know that it wasn't a very manly
thing to do, but maybe I was just acting out the little bit of anger I
still harbor at you for your accusations. I think I unconsciously did it
as a way to get back at you. I was wrong for that, believe me. There is
no reason for me to be resentful toward you. I'm sure you had my best
interests at heart when you declared that I wasn't man enough for you. In
any case, that's all water under the bridge now.
I didn't intend anything unsavory. It just sort of happened. He had a
throbbing dick that I could see right through his rough coveralls. I know
I shouldn't have been looking; it's something a strong heterosexual man
like me shouldn't ever be caught doing. But I didn't get caught. Besides,
it was a massive hard-on that was hard to miss. Well, I should have
stopped there, but I was having such fun and I was more than a little bit
high at the time. Otherwise I probably would have come to my senses and
quit. Instead I took off my shirt and waved it around and simulated a
stripper winding around a pole on-stage. Pete was clearly excited, but I
let it drop there. It was just a little bunkhouse fun, that's all. We are
always fooling around like that. Pete simply grabbed at my ass a bit and
pretended to hump me. Pete's a fun guy in that way. I didn't do anything
that should make you cross.
The next night was pretty much just like the night before and most every
other boring night out here in the middle of Timbuktu. I had pulled a few
of your old letters from my desk drawer. I had been considering burning
some of the worst ones and in my frenzy I didn't notice that the panties
you gave me had fallen out of the drawer. You remember, those were the
ones you used to try to prove I was a girlie-man. You know, it's not like
I even should have kept them except as a reminder that you care enough
about me to try to correct the irritating things I do. A resentful sort
of guy would have thrown that effeminate thing away. But I kept them
carefully stored away in my private space as a kind of symbol my bond
with you. Now they had fallen out on the floor.
Pete picked them up and examined them closely. He sniffed them and
declared that they smelled like me! I protested that they didn't. I tried
to explain why they might smell like me but I got stuck on the part about
the cucumber. Anyway, I think I convinced him that they are not mine. I
mean even if they were ... especially if they were mine, I wouldn't let
him see them would I? I would have carefully guarded against the
possibility of him discovering that little secret, wouldn't I? I wouldn't
have carelessly let them fall to the floor where he might find them. No,
I'm pretty sure he believed me that they really were your panties. I was
simply keeping them as a token. Or perhaps as a trophy? Yes, that's it! I
was keeping your panties in my desk as a trophy! But it didn't matter
what I tried; Pete didn't seem to buy it.
Now what he did next didn't make much sense to me at all. He draped them
over the couch next to me and then pretty much ignored them while he sat
down to watch TV. But I kept glancing over at them. He seemed
unconcerned. I couldn't keep those panties off my mind. My eyes soaked up
the stretchy band around the waist, the curls of delicate lace around the
legs, and the patterns of pastel flowers imprinted on the smooth fabric.
They had landed on the couch with the crotch facing toward me, bulging
slightly. Its lacey softness urgently called me. It was your voice that
ordered me to do something.
I leaned over and tossed them playfully at him. He tossed them back and
soon we were in a wrestling match. Now Pete's a pretty big guy. In no
time at all he completely overwhelmed me. His massive arms had me pinned
to the floor in seconds. I couldn't move with him on top of me. I
couldn't even squirm around with his pelvis pressed against mine so hard.
I was at his mercy. He wouldn't release me until I agreed to put the
panties on as "punishment" for my having started the entire thing in the
first place.
You know, I should have thought it through a little better I guess. But
he was suffocating me and his warm alcohol laced breath was in my face.
He was sweating and I was hot and breathing hard. His face was so close
to mine that I could see the sweat beaded on his forehead and smell his
musky tang mixed with aftershave. The pressure of his body against mine
sent a numbing, tingling sensation down my spine. What else could I do? I
was trapped. Besides, I was a little drunk. So, I agreed to put them on.
I probably never should have. Anyway, it's probably your fault for first
putting the idea in my head!
By the time I stripped down and stepped into the panties, I was getting a
hard-on too. I don't know why, I would have never suspected that I would
have, but I did. I mean why would a guy as masculine as me get a hard-on
wearing those silky French cuts? And it was obvious to Pete also. He
mocked me and I almost decided that it wasn't worth it. But I figured
it's exactly the sort of humiliating behavior you would have wanted me to
suffer in front of my bunkhouse buddies. So consider that I made this
sacrifice just for you. It was only because I sometimes still want to
please you that I did it.
So there I was with this incredible hard-on making a tent of my panties
right there in front of my roommate. It was embarrassing but also very
exciting. What was really weird was that Pete appeared to be just as
excited as I was. I tell you sitting isolated out here in the boonies for
all these months must have had a strange effect on both of us.
Well, you might have guessed that we ended up in some kind of sexual
encounter or something. You probably would think that. That kind of
behavior is always on your mind and it's probably the root cause of why
you always try to hurt me so. But nothing of the sort ever happened. You
know we are just not like that! Pete simply grabbed me and placed me over
his lap and spanked my ass until it was red and swollen. It reminded me
of the time that you tried the same thing with that buggy whip of yours.
But Pete was more difficult to get away from. So you got your revenge,
even at this distance, didn't you? I sometimes marvel at how much
punishment I must undergo just to satisfy your needs, even when we are so
far apart. I eventually put my clothes back on, although I did keep the
panties on underneath and it took a couple of hours before I could sit
down comfortably.
The next day at work we talked a little bit about what happened. Pete
mocked me some more and said he was going to make me wear the panties all
day Monday when we came back to work. What I didn't tell him was that I
was already wearing them! It was only because my ass was so sore that I
needed the added smoothness of them against my rear end. Of course they
felt pretty good against my dick too. On the way home that night Pete
fell asleep and I started rubbing my hard dick on those soft panties. I
creamed myself all over the front seat of the pickup truck and even got
some on the steering wheel. I was lucky I didn't roll the truck off a
cliff. Just about that time he pretended to wake up, smiling like a
rascal in the middle of a shit-eating contest. He had been awake the
entire time watching me!
I was embarrassed, but we got home and everything was going okay. I went
to my room to change out of my wet panties, but Pete was at the door with
a new set, along with a matching bra!
"You can't be serious!" I exclaimed, "I can't put those on. What if some
of the other guys come over and see me dressed like that? I'd be a
laughing stock."
Pete replied, "But that is exactly what is going to happen. Fred and Mark
are on their way over right now to play cards tonight at our place. You
are going to wear these under your big flannel work shirt. And you are
going to put this slip, garter belt, and stockings on too. If you behave
yourself, they will never know a thing about it."
"And if I don't?" I asked.
"Then I will have to show them this cell-phone picture of you creaming
your little red panties in the pickup truck this afternoon. Besides, I
don't think it will come to that, will it?"
Right then and there I should have called his bluff. But the fact of the
matter was that I wanted to wear those clothes. How could he have known
what I was thinking? But it wasn't because I'm a pervert or anything like
that. The bra he had was exactly the same style as that lacy, low-cut
black one you wore that night you gave me the warm milk enema. And the
idea of wearing them under my shirt without those other guys knowing a
thing, well it was just too exciting to pass up. So I went along, just as
Pete had predicted.
I'm sure the real reason why I agreed was because of a deep need to
overcome the pain and humiliation you caused me that time with the enema.
It wasn't at all like you are probably thinking: I did it just because I
enjoy dressing in women's frilly things. You know, that's just that kind
of smirky thoughts that you are always having about me. It's what is
always upsetting our relationship.
After Fred and Mark left it was pretty late and Pete and I were both
pretty plastered. Pete offered to help me take off my jeans. Well, I was
fumbling a little and decided I could use the help. But Pete came around
behind me, reached around my shoulders, and began to slowly unbutton my
shirt and pants. Before long he was rubbing his hands all over my slip
and around my bra. I tried my best to not think about how excited I was
getting. The pressure of his hands on my chest enhanced the smooth
feeling of the bra against my nipples. Then, he pulled down my straps,
slipped his hand inside my bra, and cupped my breast with his palm. He
took my nipple between this thumb and forefinger and pulled hard while
stroking the area all around it. Right there my dick went solid! I had
no idea that a man could have nipples as sensitive as a woman's.
Now what I am about to say is not intended to be painful or cruel. I say
this with the deepest care and respect. I say this with an awareness that
giving back to you the kind of emotional experiences that you so often
inflict on me is a higher form of friendship. How else will you be
certain of my continued dedication to you? I don't want to hurt you; I
only want to share how it feels for me to be hurt and humiliated.
I can only hope you experience the same kind of ecstasy I feel when I
tell you that your tits never seemed as sensitive nor were your nipples
as firm and erect as mine were. I am certain that I experienced with
Pete what you only dream about whenever I play with your nipples. Why is
that? Don't you find it odd that someone with my masculine physique would
have more sensitive nipples than a woman with 38-D breasts? Does that
sting you feel now strike as deeply as you have struck at me so many
times before? I hope you'll enjoy that thought as much as I do in sending
it your way.
Soon he was unbuttoning my pants and sliding the rough blue denim down
over my smooth red slip. My belt buckle got caught momentarily on the
delicate lace trim gracing the bottom of my slip. But we untangled it and
I stepped out of my masculine outer garments. At that moment I felt
possessed by this form fitting femininity in a way that was much stronger
than the times you've forced me to wear that silly latex mask. Yes, I was
more excited than that, and I did on my own without your help.
Here I was dressed in a soft, tight-fitting slip over a delicate lace bra
and very feminine red silk panties. I was alone with a man nearly twice
my size, his massive hairy arms wrapped around my torso, his large hands
caressing me from my neck to my crotch. Pete took my belt and skillfully
wrapped it around my wrists and then looped his around my ankles so
quickly that I hardly knew what he was doing. I was hogged tied and
unable to fend off his lips as they gently caressed my sensitive neck. I
helplessly bent and folded into his arms, a mere bundle of quivering
flesh amid his brawny limbs. I was his rag doll. I had to do as he
wished.
Does that make you jealous my dear? I hope not. I really don't want to
hurt you. I am not like you, I never want to strike at you or humiliate
you. I hope this incident demonstrates how willing I am to expose myself
to such humiliation and embarrassment just for you. I would never have
found myself in that position if, deep down, I hadn't intended to share
it with you. I want you to visualize this experience perfectly. I want
you to feel for yourself the powerful emotions it evoked in me. I'm sure
that if you had been here, you would have watched in excitement. Oh, how
I wish you had been here to see Pete violating me like that without you
being able to do anything about it! It thrills me to think about how
helpless you would have been to stop him.
I want to make it clear that this wasn't a queer thing either. No one
could have accused me then that I was being queer or even that I had any
homosexual leanings. That's a moniker that will never stick on me. Oh no,
Pete and I aren't like that at all, we are both real men. I know you
think otherwise, but you are very wrong. He was just helping me work
through the agony you put me through all those months we were together.
I'd like to think that he was helping me cope with some of the issues I
uncovered the night you made me masturbate in front of that picture of my
naked mother. Oh yes, I told Pete about that incident and he shares my
disgust.
The following night was Saturday and the guys came over again to play
cards. Pete didn't even have to threaten to make me dress up in my frilly
fem clothes again. In fact, he caught me going through his dresser and
then made me kneel on the floor and beg to be allowed to dress up.
Still, Mark and Fred had no idea. Oh, you would have been so proud of me
pretending to be as manly as these rough hombres are, even with my secret
fem hidden away under my work clothes! I even won a few hands of poker
despite the distraction from those smooth white stockings rubbing against
my jeans all night. But around midnight, I looked up from my cards and
saw all three of them staring at me. In unison, they jumped up; pinned me
against the wall; stripped me of my flannels and jeans; and exposed my
feminine garments. Can you imagine how that felt? Was it shame?
Humiliation? Embarrassment? Relief? Satisfaction? Joy? Ecstasy? Oh, yes I
slid all along that scale!
They forced me to kneel next to the bed while Pete tied my hands to the
bedpost with leather bindings. He climbed on the bed, straddling and
pinning my arms to the mattress. He unzipped his pants and then thrust
his throbbing tool into my mouth. I had no choice but to suck him off.
I wasn't sure how good I would be, but apparently your dildo training
helped a lot. At first I took in only his head and then let my tongue
probe his underside, right at his most sensitive spot, where his curving
ridge joins together in a fleshy mound. But he couldn't hold it there and
was soon thrusting his entire shaft into my mouth in rhythm with Fred and
Mark's chants of "Do it, Do it, Do it!"
I can still see the engorged blue veins on the surface of his piston as
it slipped quickly in and out of my pursed lips. Oh the shame I felt as I
bent back my head and watched his eyebrows lower and pull together, his
mouth tighten, and his eyelids slowly squeeze into a bare slit. He
released it all in explosive gasps as he let loose his sticky, salty load
against the back of my throat.
But he wasn't satisfied just yet. No he still had more in store for me.
He pulled away quickly, not even bothering to put his now semi-rigid
organ back into his briefs. He grabbed at my panties, popping my garter
and ripping my white stockings halfway down my quivering thighs. Mark
opened his iron fisted lock on my calves long enough for Pete to recover
a fistful of panties. He then wadded them and forced them into my mouth
to stop up the drool coursing over my chapped lips. The sweat, cum,
blood, and spit smeared on those panties became a physical testament to
my liberating moment of shame and humiliation.
But they weren't through yet. Mark and Fred each had their turn with me.
Mark was especially large and it hurt my ass so to accommodate him. But I
couldn't cry out with the panties still stuffed in my cum-laden mouth.
He butt fucked me hard with a tool he first greased with Vaseline and
Vodka.
Now sweetie, I have to confide something to you right now. I was so proud
of myself. At the moment of Mark's climax I blew my wad as well! This,
with my hands still tied to the bed. I know how many times you've tried
to train me to do this. I know how disappointing I must have been to you
when you always had to pump me with your fingers or threaten to cut me
with your sharpened red-enameled nails before I would cum. But this night
I came without anyone touching my penis. His tool, and not your puny
vibrator or your wicked threats, was the key to my success. He managed to
do in one night what you were singularly unsuccessful in accomplishing in
our many months together.
Oh darling, I want so much to share this with you. I want you to
experience, in some small way, a part of the overpowering emotions that I
went through. I've taken the liberty of sending you the unwashed panties.
Pete told me to tell you to stuff them in your mouth when you receive
them. If you first lubricate them with your saliva, you should be able to
taste Pete's spilled cum the same way I did. I hope you will do this for
me, because I want you to explore these immense feelings, even though
such a great distance lies between us.
Well, you can imagine that things moved quickly after that. Soon Pete was
requiring me to dress as a woman at all times when we were away from
work. I was forced to wear high spiked heels, all the better to develop
my feminine walk. Pete would often discipline me by tightening my corset
or inserting a larger butt plug if I didn't remember to hold my wrists
limply or to demurely cross my legs when I was allowed to sit down. He
made me dye my hair bleach blonde. It's quite long now and I think you
would be more than a little envious of it.
Did you know about the peephole I bored in your bathroom wall? Yes, I
witnessed all of your most private moments. That's how I know that you
always douched your hairy little cunt after every time we had sex. How
convenient! You always got to wash up while I was forced to keep my dirty
diaper on for hours. But the peephole was also how I learned how to curl
my hair and put on my make-up so perfectly; by watching you perform these
mundane grooming tasks when you thought you were alone.
As I sit here writing this I cannot suppress a fantasy that keeps running
through my head. I want to share it with you as a way to reach out across
the miles that separate us. I can only hope that the words will do their
work and reach into your heart in the way that I intend for them to touch
you.
I picture myself sitting on a throne in a marble palace. Pete, Mark and
Fred are close by my side. Fred is fanning me with a fig palm; Mark rubs
the hem of my floor length purple silken robe, sliding his hands between
the soft fold along the inside of my firm creamy white calves. Pete idly
strokes my long and beautiful golden tresses. They are adorned with
little pink flowers and pretty white bows. Just then the massive oak
doors of the palace are thrown open and two guards roughly escort you,
bound in iron handcuffs, to the base of my throne. You bend your thigh-
high leather boots and kneel on the cold marble slab at my feet. The
guards pull the sticky panties from your vomit hole. You beg me,
"Your majesty, please allow me to suck your royal penis. I need to suck
your hard tool and feel it inside my mouth. Fill my throat and gag me on
your cum. Yours is the only penis that can give me the satisfaction that
I crave. I will do anything, anything at all, but I must have you!"
Here I open my robe and show you my undergarments. You rise from your
knees and pull my starched white petticoat over my hips. You fall back in
shock and disgust as you view my hairless crotch. For my penis has
withered and my dwarfish balls have retracted upward, close to my
abdomen. The skin of my scrotum is shrunken and tight and it's starting
to form into the distinctive split lips of a woman's vulva. My tiny dick
is limp, with the foreskin now slipping easily over a misshapen head that
is now no larger than the tip of my little finger.
"Yes, its true." I declare, "the royal eunuchs have injected me with
massive doses of female hormones." I am no longer capable of having a
manly erection. My limp and shrunken penis will soon be removed and I
will become a whole and complete woman. But here, you may suck on my
royal teat. They are now larger and more firm and the areola is wider and
darker than yours are." You shrink away in disgust as I order my eunuchs
to chain you in a dungeon filled with rat feces and urine.
Oh, do you think that this is only a fantasy? Something I created in my
mind just to stimulate you? You would be oh so wrong. I have committed
myself to making that fantasy real. I can already feel the effects of the
female hormones that I've started injecting. My skin is smoother, my
facial hair is softer and thinner, my breasts are becoming firm and even
more sensitive, and I am beginning to have a hard time keeping an
erection. Soon I will be totally incapable of any manly response, with
you or any of my friends. Does that excite you? Pitiful creature, I hope
it does.
I've now come to recognize the impact your perverted actions have had on
me. It took these many months apart to finally break this hypnotic
control that you have over me. But you no longer have the ability to
reach across the miles and pull my strings anymore. You can no longer
insult and humiliate me or force me to dress me in women's clothes when I
don't do as you say. No, I've broken away from your grip and I have found
my own path.
I am free! Free at last to live my own life. Free from your threats and
humiliations. I am free from the constant nagging feeling that I am
unworthy. I'm free from the constant thoughts assailing me, convincing me
that I can never be a real man. Your insults about the size of my penis
no longer matter to me. How can they, when I have taken control and
created my own little shrunken and impotent tool so suitable for denying
you? Oh, I have found the way to deny you all that you have denied me. I
have found a way to inflict on you all the pain you have heaped on me. I
have found a way to break free of the bonds you have forged. I now know
the path of freedom.
Once my quest for freedom is complete, Pete has promised to bring me to
your door again. I intend to have him make me strip in front of you so
that you can see for yourself that I have permanently amputated the manly
plaything that you so long to stroke and caress. I want him to make love
to me in front of you, so that you can confirm with your own eyes that
you will never be able to have sex with me again. I want you to stick
your tongue into the deep recess formed by the severed stub of my
inverted penis. I want you to do this so that you can taste the awful
truth. The very organ that gave you so much pleasure has been permanently
destroyed!
Then, and only then, will I be able to prove to myself that I am my own
man, free from your power, free to make my own choices, and free to live
without your constant threats of feminization and castration. Oh, I have
found the way to break the chains. You will never control me again.
Never!
Fawn
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