By Degrees free porn video

By Degrees by Cassandra Morgan One millimeter at a time. Another drop of water in the bucket. Another grain of sand in the shovel. Eventually, after all of the other questions, people will get around to asking me how I got into a dress. How I became the maid cleaning the grease off of the frying pans, or ironing the wrinkles out of the shirt, or making the salad for Mistress' lunch. One more molecule of air, I tell them. One more raindrop from the sky. One more blade of grass in the field. You come by it gradually, I tell them. Every day, you slip a little farther. Every day, you sink a little deeper. Every time you curtsey, every time you put on another pair of panties, this sissy lifestyle claims you a little more. And now, I feel it has me completely. It started harmlessly enough. We were college sophomores. I was an English major, she was into finance. I'm Kenny. Kenny Olson. She's Chastity. Chastity Logan. We met in the student union, drinking beer and shooting pool. I liked her smile. She thought I was funny. Longer relationships than ours have been built on less. We dated, and we hung out, and eventually, I didn't go home. I gave up my apartment and moved in with Chastity. Isn't that the way it usually happens in college? Hell, college is like a singles bar with textbooks. So Chastity and I started to play house. Only she picked the TV shows we watched. She picked the music we listened to. She picked the movies and the concerts and the lectures we attended. Hey, I understood. Finance is a tougher major than English. She had to study her ass off to stay afloat. I tried to make it easy on her. I cleaned, and I ironed, and when we ate at home, I cooked. It wasn't like I had to do these things. But mom had raised me to be responsible with household chores. So I would get in from class, and I would put on this hideous white apron, and I would do the dishes. I would read whatever assignments my class had. I would make dinner. I would read some more. I would do laundry. And read some more. There was a rhythm to it. Still, you know how it is. When you live with someone, and this was the first time that either Chastity or I had co-habituated outside of our immediate families, you get on each other's nerves. The apartment gets small. The walls get tiny. Voices get loud. "You didn't get the super to fix the fucking air conditioner," Chastity said one night, throwing one of my books at me. "I ask you to make one repair, and it's too manly for you. You don't do shit around this house." "Chastity," I protested. "I cook for you. I clean for you. I do laundry for you." "Well, aren't you the grand fucking sissy of Cincinnati," she yelled. "I'm wrong, I guess. You're a regular fucking Claire Huxtable. I should put you in a fucking dress and let you flirt with the mailman." I was silent. Eventually, Chastity's temper would blow over, and she would calm down, and she would be herself again. But God help anyone who stood in the way of her rage. The deal was that the super couldn't fix the air-conditioner. It needed a new condenser. But if I brought that up, my ass was toast. I went to the kitchen and put a cup of water in the microwave to make her tea. I could hear her stalk around the apartment, talking about her fag boyfriend and his little dick and how she should have dated Charlie McGee because he had a real dick and he drove a Porsche and his mother sent a maid to his apartment two days a week to straighten up. I brought her tea. She just glared at me. I sat it by the head of the bed, then turned to walk out. "Kenny, have you seen my black panties with the red trim?" "No, Chastity. I haven't." "You sure?" she said, her eyes narrowing. "Of course I'm sure. I'd know if I saw them." "A lot of my things have gone missing lately, Kenny. Bras. Panties. You sure you aren't trying them on." "Of course not, Chastity. I'm not a cross-dresser. Is that what you're accusing me of?" "I didn't accuse you of anything, Kenny. Why are you getting so defensive?" "I'm not defensive," I said patiently. "I'm simply telling you that I haven't seen your underwear. Shit, Chastity. I do all the fucking girl's chores here. Why would I also wear your clothes?" As soon as I said it, I knew I shouldn't have. Her voice was like thunder, and her eyes were like lightning. Again, she lit into me with the faggot word and the small dick comparisons and how I was a fucking ass ranger. That was a new one. I tried to read: Kafka's Metamorphosis. About a guy who turns into an insect. I couldn't follow it. How can you concentrate when your girlfriend is pissed at you? I had to go to the bathroom, but the door was closed. I knocked lightly. "What now?" she said, obviously still pissed. "I have to tinkle," I said. "Tinkle? What are you? A four-year-old girl? If you have to piss, just come in and piss. I've seen the little soldier before." I went in. Chastity was lying back in the tub shaving her legs. They were great legs, long and firm, the legs that pantyhose models have. I glanced for a minute, then I went about my business. "You like my legs, or the shaving cream," she said, laughing. "Excuse me?" "You want to shave your legs, Kenny? Is that why you're watching me so closely?" "I was just admiring your legs, Chastity," I said. "I'm sure," she said. "You were thinking about wrapping them around that nice Paul fellow, weren't you? You fucking sissy!" "You called me that before, Chastity. I'm not a sissy." "Ha," she said. "You're such a sissy the other sissies took a vote. You're the leader. What the fuck am I going to do with you?" "I don't know," I said. "That's the first fucking sense you've made all night," she said. "Now let me bathe. Stop staring at my boobs. What? Do you want a pair of them, too." "No, Chastity," I said. And I left. Little did I know that her mind was at work. About sissies. About shaving. About breasts. About me. * * * Now, don't get me wrong about Chastity. She's a great person, funny and smart, assertive and opinionated. She just has a temper that's as hot as the sun. And as regular. The next day, I had made a casserole for dinner for us and a pair of friends, Mark and Sherry Thomas. I spooned it out onto the dishes, and Chastity poured the wine, and we sat around making small talk. Best bran muffin. Best coffee. Best superhero movie. Best cheeseburger. Best breakfast cereal. It was mental floss, just an exercise in preferences. It didn't mean a thing. "Best lesbian," Chastity posed. And so we kicked that around. Ellen. Melissa Etheridge. Ellen Page. k.d. Lang. Rosie O'Donnell. Martina Navratilova. Ellen got the most votes, but I voted for Melissa. "Best gay," Chastity asked. And we launched right in. Elton John. Zachary Quinto. Neil Patrick Harris. George Michael. Michael Sam. Ian McKellen. Anderson Cooper. I voted for Elton. Most folks voted for Michael Sam. "Best transgender." And here we went again. Caitlin Jenner. Laverne Cox. Laura Jane Grace. Chaz Bono. Alexis Arquette. I voted for Caitlin. Everyone did. "Best sissy." We kind of stared at each other for a minute. Then Chastity said "Kenny Olson." Everyone howled with laughter. Sadly, there were no more nominations. * * * It was early the next morning. I had made a light breakfast: yogurt-and- bran, toast and coffee. Chastity walked into the kitchen, late as usual. "Hi, sweet lips," she said pleasantly. "Have fun last night?" It was ... interesting," I said. "Of course it was. You won." I laughed softly. "It wasn't fair. Since when are sissies famous? I should have said Sissy Spacek." "Good answer, but you're a better sissy," she said. "You're my sissy. If anyone says that's a bad thing, you hit them with your purse." "Old joke, Chastity." "Really? I'm just now hearing it. Of course, my boyfriend has just become a sissy." I rolled my eyes at her. I was getting a little weary of the shots, to tell you the truth. I worked around the house. How did that make me a sissy? But when Chastity left for work, I turned on my laptop. I did a google search. And my jaw dropped. There were thousands of hits. There were women's names, sure. But there were photos of men in Hello Kitty dresses, photos of men kissing the boots of women, photos of men dressed as maids. There were captioned photos, and cartoons, and stories. There were men serving women. There were men with other men's dicks in their mouths. There were men in wedding dresses. This was a sissy? This was what Chastity had accused me of being? I felt flush. I felt, well, aroused. I saw the pictures of men vacuuming and ironing. I saw women with artificial penises penetrating their sissy anally. I saw whips. I saw products: panties and breast forms and dildos and artificial vaginas and something called a cock cage. You could stock an entire toy store with the devices that were available. Breast pumps and hormone pills and fingernail polish. I reached to turn off the lap top. "Don't turn it off because of me, sugar plum," I heard a familiar voice. I looked up with the eyes of the guilty. I had been caught. "I snuck back in here to see if you had my black-and-red panties, and guess what I find? You really are a Disney princess, aren't you? You can't wait to get out your Visa and order things, can you? Tell me: what do you want. Maybe some panties? Maybe some breasts? Oh, look at this cock cage! I wonder how you put it on. Do you know?" "I was just looking, Chastity." "Window shopping, Kenny? I know. I'll call you Kerri. You're a little fag boy, aren't you? I should have known, you with your little dick and your simpering personality. Are you gay? Tell me."' "I'm not gay, Chastity. Don't you know that?" "I don't know a fucking thing except my boyfriend downloads freaks on his computer. Give me your Visa card. I'm serious." Meekly, I handed her the plastic, praying she was just bluffing. But she ordered three maid's dresses and seven pair of panties and seven bras and pantyhose and a wig and some makeup. She ordered a pair of size C breast forms. She ordered the cock cage and a breast pump. "You want to dress like a fucking girl? Fine. Dress like a fucking girl. Every morning, before you make my breakfast. I insist. Maybe we'll let change back before class. Maybe not." "Chastity, why don't I just leave? Is it time for us to break up? I'm sorry, but this isn't working out." "Leave? Where the fuck you gonna go? This apartment is in my name, remember. And you owe rent if you leave. Besides, I'll tell all your friends about your sissy order online. And they'll all believe me. Because they think you're a sissy, too! You, who would rather put a puzzle together than throw a Frisbee. You, who would rather watch Scandal than Gotham. Try me, asshole. See who everyone believes." "But did you have to buy three dresses?" "Not enough? Don't worry, Kerri. I left room to buy some today. I didn't want to wait for the order. We'll get you some heels, too. And remember when you were envious watching me shave my legs? Well, tonight, guess who gets to do it? You, you pansy. That ought to make you happy." She stormed out of the house, slamming the door. I felt the tears well up in my eyes. Stop, I told myself. Don't be a sissy just because she called you a sissy. This could still work out. It was madness for her to order dresses for me. But the madness was just beginning. * * * Some things you don't see. Some things you hear about, and recount by pieces. Some conversations are second half. Some moments are reconstructed. Chastity didn't smoke much. Hell, who did? But she needed ... something. She was at Barnaby's with Sherry, staring out the window at the snow fall. She sipped her wine. She exhaled deeply. "What is it, kiddo?" Sherry said. "Something's on your mind." "I think...I think my boyfriend is a fag." Sherry's eyes widened. She gasped. "Kenny?" Chastity smiled weakly. "I guess it really is everywhere, huh?" Now, again, I wasn't there. This is hearsay, some of it from Chastity, some it from Sherry. Hell, neither one of them were worried about what a sissy thinks. I would protest that I was never reading gay porn, but that's quibbling. I saw it. That was enough. "How did you find out?" Sherry remembered asking. "I mean, did you catch him and another guy?" "Almost. I caught him reading gay porn, sissy porn, bondage porn. You know, I've always suspected something. A real man doesn't clean and cook the way he does. And I've had panties missing, and some of my dresses have moved. The other night, I caught him watching me shave my legs." "Sounds more like a transvestite to me," Sherry said. "Whatever," Chastity waved her hand. "As long as he sucks dicks, we have a problem." "Well, dicks are fun," Sherry said. They giggled. For Chastity, it felt good. It was her first laugh of the day, and dammit, she liked to laugh. She hated wondering what her boyfriend did when she wasn't with him. Was he having sex with another man? Was he he wearing her clothes? Was he shopping for handcuffs? "Are you going to dump him?" "I should. Hell, I spent over $300 bucks on him last night, so I guess I'll let him stay. But the bitch is going to work for it. You know how Charlie has a maid. Well, as of right now, I fucking have one, too." "A maid?" "Thats the shit he was looking at. I guess he wants to be a simpering fag-boy." She flopped her wrist. "I've got to read up on this stuff. Is he a girl now? Do I spank him? What?" Sherry grinned. "Can I watch?" Chastity gave her a scolding look. "You know one of the things I bought him?" "What?" "Something called a cock cage. It's like a little bird cage for his junk. That way he can't jerk off till his brains pour out his ears. You know, I should have known. Those English majors are all fags, what with Shakespeare and Oscar Wilde. The Tiny Dick Club." "Oh. Is Kenny small?" "He's so small his dick could be under the yellow brick road." Sherry grinned. "So small you could floss with it?" "So small I get horny when I see a box of Tic-Tacs." "So small that his idea of a good time is nasal intercourse." They started laughing, and the air became less heavy. They were just two old friends, talking about life, about love, about sex. "Are you really going to put him in dresses?" Sherry wondered. "Hell yes," Chastity said. "That's what he wants. He wants to prance around and have everyone see. He wants to go to Pride Parades and wave to the crowds. You know how gay people are these days. They have to flaunt it." "But what do you get out of it?" "A maid. I don't know. Maybe he's bi. Maybe he'll still use his tongue, you know? Maybe I'll be the guy. Maybe I'll fuck him for a change." Sherry nodded. And at this point, she remembered asking a personal question. "Do you think he sucked Mark?" she wondered. "Maybe. I'm sure he would if he could. Queers can't say no. Why do you ask?" "Just...Mark has been kind of distracted lately. Like he's getting a little on the side. I never thought it could be with Kenny, though." "Seems our fag-boy is making the rounds, doesn't it? He's probably been gay since before I knew him. He probably takes more sperm than my Honda takes gas." "Beep-beep. Fill 'er up." "You know, now that I think about it, I think spanking is a good idea." * * * It was late afternoon when Chastity came into the apartment, her arms filled with packages. I was ironing her clothes at the time. I looked at her, afraid to say anything. I could only hope she had forgotten the things she'd said to me. But of course she hadn't forgotten. Women never forget. "Look what I have, sissy," Chastity said. She held up a black maid's dress, shiny and smooth. "I bought it at the uniform store. Half off. It was a real deal. The guy there said that you fags snap these up so fast they never go on sale." "Please don't do this," I whimpered. "See. A man would say 'we're not doing this.' or 'No fucking way am I doing this.' You just flop your wrists and say 'please don't do this.' " With those last four words, she minced her words as if she were the village homosexual. What should I have done? Where should I go? Should I leave and try to slum it on someone's couch? Should I try to borrow the money to get an apartment? Or should I stay, and hope Chastity would see how silly she was being. I was no sissy, damn it, Being small doesn't make a guy a sissy. "Come on. Off with the clothes. Have you shaved yet? Used my Nair? You need to ." Okay, I'm not the hairiest guy. But the thought of losing whatever fuzz I had bothered me. It signaled surrender. "You know, for a sissy, you have a shitty attitude," Chastity said. "I would have thought you'd be appreciative. You're finally getting what you want. Panties! A bra! Lipstick! You're crossing the border, sweetheart. And there ain't no coming back. Here. Sherry got these two pills. Take them, and let's get rid of that hair." "Pills?" "Just take the damn things. I'm tired of you fighting every fucking step." Beaten, I took the pills. I knew what they were. They were hormones. They had to be. She wouldn't give me vitamins or medicine or tranquilizers. I had been pushed into the first step. Whatever changes the pills would make I hoped would not be permanent. The hair came off fairly quickly. Chastity ran her hands over my torso almost clinically, as she checked for stray hair. She tweaked my nipple. "That'll be big enough to go to work soon, won't it?" she said, grinning. She held out a pair of black panties. "Come on, now," she said. "You're going to be my Barbie doll. I get to dress you and mold you." The panties felt strangely light for underwear, sheer. But the bra felt restrictive, useless. She slid breast forms into the cups. She stepped back and admired her work. "Needs pantyhose," she said. "And a wig. You need a wig. Damn. I forgot to buy a wig." She held the dress out to me. I sighed heavily. I took it, stepped into it. Chastity zipped it, then spun me around. "You look divine," she said. "This is going to work out great. You'll love dressing like a girl all the time." I felt like a fool. The hem of the dress was halfway to my knee, and it tickled when I walked. There wasn't that much material covering my panties. The bra felt tight and foreign. A thousand human beings on the planet would love this outfit. Transvestites, transgenders, cross-dressers, drag queens, sissies. But I felt like I was in a Halloween costume. I didn't feel sexy. I felt trapped. "Now, let's do our makeup, shall we? Makeup is tricky for you new sissies. It took me a long time to do to learn makeup. So don't feel like you have to be a pro in one night. Here. Let's put a pink ribbon in your hair. It'll help people think there is more hair there. I wonder if Sherry has nail extensions?" I kept thinking about the stories I had read the night before. Most sissies would be thrilled by now by the feel of the clothing, by the look of the makeup. But that wasn't me. I had to convince Chastity that I was still her boyfriend. She had me put on my heels and walk. I almost fell twice. She tittered. "You'll get it, Kerri. Before long, you'll be the best sissy in Cincy. The guys will follow you home." "I don't want the guys to follow me home," I said softly. "Oh, but you will. You can't suck their cocks in public. Or is that what you like? Are are an out-in-open cocksucker? An exhibitionist?" "I don't do that," I said. "I've never done that." "Never say never, darling, Now, walk around a bit more for me." * * * The penis had a mind of its own. It probed Chastity, deep and hard. She swore. When Chastity had sex, really really good sex, she tended to get foul- mouthed. She talked dirty, and she talked loud, people from two blocks off knew that some girl was getting lucky. She was on top of this particular penis, grinding on it, begging for more. She felt it quiver and said "Not yet, dammit. Fuck me harder. Fuck me deeper. There. That's it. Fuck me fuck me fuck me!" And then she collapsed. Next to Charlie. Again, I learned about this tryst a little later when it became entertaining to rub it in my face. A sissy is never present when he becomes a cuckold, when another cock is inside his girlfriend, when she is exchanging fluides with a third perty. For two months, Charlie and Chastity had been fuck-buddies. He was all the things Kenny was not, slick and smooth and rich and handsome. Sex with him was raw and passionate, and occasionally she left with bruises. That was okay. Sex was supposed to break beds, wasn't it. She kissed his underarm. "Not bad, Charlie," she said. "Not bad." "You were great," he said. "It's even better than your ass. I love you being on top of me." "I like it too, snuggles. Hey, did I tell you. Kenny is wearing a dress!" "He's what?" "He's my maid! I did it. I made him submissive. He's my bitch." The way she told me, she was so callous, so cold. Mind you, she was not ashamed of feminizing her boyfriend. She was proud of herself, of what she had done, of how she was able to tell her lover about her pansy. "Fag," Charlie said, shaking his head. "Yeah, he is. I bet Kenny would like a taste of Zorro here. You swing both ways?" "You know better. I'm no faggot." "Yeah, but Kerri is faggot enough for the both of you. You should see his titties! They're so cute." "He has titties?" "Fake ones, silly. But he's taking pills. The other ones will grow in." Charlie shook his head. He laughed. "I have a theory. You can't feminize a guy who doesn't want to be feminized. You can't make him eat sperm unless he wants to. Not short of rape. If Kenny is wearing a dress, it's because he likes it." "Is that true?" "Hell, I don't know. I just made it up. But it sounds true." Chelsea got out of bad, stretched. She went to his bureau. "Where's a t- shirt?" she said. "I need to cover up." "No you don't." "Perv!" she said, throwing a sock at him. She looked down, and she saw something familiar. She picked them up, and sure enough, it was her panties. Of all the things that happened in that bedroom, this would bother me as much as anything when I leared of it. She had lied to me. Oops! She must have left them here. Silly her. She had accused Kenny of wearing them. Well, he had his own now. She balled them up, then picked up her purse. She slid them inside to take home. "Hey, Chastity? Come here. I have something to show you." "Does it have one eye?" "And two nuts," he said. She giggled and bounced into bed. He kissed her breasts, one at a time. He kissed her ribs. He kissed her belly button. And then his tongue, his wonderful tongue, was licking at her vagina. Across the rim, upward, probing, teasing the clitoris. That was nice, she thought. She would give him, like, six hours to stop. * * * I could not help staring in the mirror. I was in a fucking dress. Look, I know a lot of men like to wear woman's clothing. I have no problem with that. It takes all kinds. But I've never been one of them. I wore a dress one time as a teenager, just as a hoot, when all the boys in eighth grade wore dresses to school. But that wasn't a sexual thing. Now, I look at this black dress, and it looks all wrong on me. I have a ribbon in my hair, and tiny pigtails, not really long enough to wear, sticking out of the side of my head. Was this right? Was a sissy? Deep down, beneath all of my protests, was there something feminine? No, I wasn't predisposed to wear women's clothing. But I was at least aware enough of the lifestyle to know that it wasn't about clothes. It was about submission. That's why you wore the clothes. Why you submitted to the spankings. It was just another form of surrender. Was I submissive? Well, hell, I was standing here in a dress, wasn't I? I was doing chores around the house. I folded when Chastity gave me orders. Maybe I did have a wide streak of submission to me. I blew a kiss to the mirror. I stuck out my butt and pursed my lips. I still felt silly. But it was starting to feel nicer. * * * My other dresses had arrived by mail, and for a week, I had not been out of them. This was becoming routine. I woke early - I was sleeping on the couch - and I went into the guest bathroom and changed. I did my makeup - I was getting good. I took my pills. I put the heels on last, and then went out to make breakfast. After breakfast, until I dropped my courses, I changed for class. But I was required to wear my bra and panties. The bra caused quite a few stares. But it was a college campus, and the rainbow was all around us, and no one said a word. I assume they all thought I was transgender. It's what I would have thought, too. I will never forget the first time Sherry saw me. She was fishing through her purse for her cell phone when I opened the door. I was dressed in a gray maid's dress, complete with a mop hat. She looked up, and her smile widened. "Well, well, look at you," she said. "Turn around. You are a very pretty thing, young sissy. You should never go back to being a boy. I suppose you never will. Wait till Mark sees you! You know, I asked Chastity if you were sucking his cock. I'm sorry. Is that crude? Well, if you're sucking his cock, I suppose it's permissible to say so in just those words. Crudely. "Sucking his cock." Oh, well. It's just a bit of skin. Oh, baby. You look sweet! I'll bet he's tapping that ass, too. You have a nice bubble ass. Made for dicks! Of course, it's your pussy, isn't it?" She waltzed through the apartment, talking all the time, stacking assumptions on top of assumptions. I let it go. Everyone seemed to assume that I had boyfriends. Why wouldn't they? I was constantly in a dress, and in makeup. My little boobies were getting fleshy. Not real breasts yet, but they were starting to come in. Chastity came out of the bedroom and air-kissed Sherry. "So, do you like my maid?" she said. "I think she's marvelous! I should do the same thing with Mark!" "Mark? No fucking way. Mark is a man. He wouldn't stand for this sissy shit. Only a real sissy would. Right, Kerri?" I looked at the floor. She came up to me, and I knew the taunting game was about to begin. "You remember real men, right, Kerri. Like the man who butt-fucked you Saturday night? Took you to heaven, didn't he? Oh, Sherry, you should have seen it. It was magnificent. This big black cock was sliding in and out of Kerri's ass, and when he was done, Kerri sucked him off, shit on the dick and all. Kerri sucks dick better than I do, Sherry. She's a natural. You know, she was only baby in the hospital who nursed off her dad's dick instead of her mom's breast." It wasn't true. Not any of it. There was no man on Saturday night, black or otherwise. But Chastity had these flights of fancy, and half the time I didn't know if she'd actually convinced herself they were really happening. She talked as if I'd sucked off dozen of men. But I had never even had one. That didn't matter, I guess. I was still a fucking housemaid. I still wore panties. To the world, I was still a sissy. * * * Chastity slipped into the apartment late. She said she had been studying at the library, but I wondered. I didn't say anything, though. Of course I didn't. She walked into her bedroom, then reached into her purse and pulled out something. Her red-and-black panties. "Well, look what I found in your old sock drawer door, sissy," she said. "Those panties you stole." I looked. There they were, the red-and-black panties. They had not been there earlier in the day. "Chastity, I promise I didn't steal them." "Look, it doesn't matter anymore. You're getting quite comfortable in panties. I just don't like you to lie to me. Now come here." I approached her. I knew what she wanted. I lay across her lap. She slapped my ass hard, then let her palm linger on the butt cheek. It stung. Then again. Then again. In all, she gave me 20 whacks for lying. By the end, the tears were rolling down my face. She caressed my bottom. "Did it hurt, sissy?" she asked. ?"Some," I said. She slid her index finger inside my rectum slightly. "Does that hurt?" "No," I whispered. She shoved it deeper. "How about now?" I smiled. These days, I craved any attention I could get from her. "It's nice," I said. "Kerri, get my dildo out of the nightstand. I think it's time I got into your ass." I nodded, stood up, and went to her nightstand. Her dildo was still attached to its panty. She shimmied them up her body. She seemed strange standing there, her breasts exposed, this large plastic cock poking from her crotch. I started to crawl into bed. "Not in my bed," she said. "Across the chair." So I folded myself over the chair, and she began to run it up and down my ass. She lubed me thoroughly. Then she stuck it in. Then farther. Then farther. Then she was riding me. "God," she said. "I do love my dick." * * * "Do you still play chess? Or do sissies just play Care Bears?" Mark laughed at his own joke, his 400th of the evening. He had burst into laughter at first sight. "A fucking maid? Not just a woman, but a fucking maid? Why not a cheerleader? Why not a nurse? Jesus Christ, Kenny..." "Kerri," Sherry corrected him. "Her name is Kerri." "Her name? Her? You're a fucking her...Kerri? Tell me, what do you have sex with? A mop? A vacuum cleaner hose? Tell you want, sissy. You want a house to clean, you can come over to ours. Sherry could use some help with the laundry. Faggot!" I lowered my eyes. Silence is always the best answer when a sissy is under attack. I took his coat. "Can I get you a beer?" "Oh, so now you're a bar-maid," he said. "A little later, will you be a mermaid? A bridesmaid" "A meter maid," Chastity shouted. "A milkmaid," Sherry added. "A nursemaid," Mark said. "A chambermaid." "A handmaid." "Maid Marion!" "The Maid of the Mist." "Maid in China!" Chastity and Sherry looked at Mark. "Maid in China? Really?" "Oops," Mark said. I had made veal for dinner. We ate, and we went through two bottles of wine. Everyone was happy, and the lights were low. "I have something to show you," Chastity said. She rose, and Sherry followed her out of the room Strange. But then I felt Mark's hand, tracing my bra strap on my right shoulder. His fingers walked down my spine. "You're very pretty, Kerri," he said. "I'm sorry I was mean earlier." "It's .. okay." His hand was on my arm now, stroking it tenderly. I looked at him. No, I wanted to scream. "They left us alone for a reason, Kerri," Mark said, sliding closer to me. "Chastity tells me you've had dozens of men. Is that true?" "No..." I whispered. "I don't care for men." "But you like me, right? We're old friends. You trust me." I looked into his face. "A sissy can't trust anyone," I said, vaguely aware I had begun to refer to myself as a sissy. "Shh," he said. He kissed me lightly on the lips. My hand was on the bulge in his jeans. How did it get there? He kissed me harder, his tongue gliding over my lips. He bit the bottom one lightly, pulling on it with his teeth. "You like being a girl, don't you?" he said. "No," I said. Then I was kissing his neck. I needed the emotional support, I assume. He pushed down on my shoulders. My face lowered to his chest, his stomach, his ... cock. "Kiss it, sweet sissy," he said. "Take it in your mouth." I fumbled with his belt. I tugged down on his jeans, and it sprang out like a kid's toy. He pulled on the back of my head, and it was in front of my lips. I kissed the tip. I licked the shaft. I cupped his balls. I was sucking another man's dick, and it seemed to fit in my mouth. He gripped my head, lifting and lowering, pushing deep into my throat. Was I gay? And wasn't it a silly thing to wonder? I pulled my face off, and looked at it as it glistened. I worshipped his cock, made love to it! IT was a lollipop and an ice cream, everything I had ever had in my mouth to suck. And when it erupted, I claimed every drop of sperm as mine. The residue that fell across his testicles was mine. The spillover that fell on his jeans was mine. All of it. Then he was lifting me, and he was kissing me. I grabbed his penis in my fist. I was just about to kiss it again when the flashbulb went off. By now, I had seen sissy porn, and I had seen a few photos of sissies who had blown their boyfriends. This was of better quality than them all. I was clearly recognizable holding the cock. "For your Facebook page," Chastity said. "Although we may have to black out Mark's dick. But everyone will get the picture." "I wonder if there is a group for you guys," Sherry said. "I sucked my friend's boyfriend's dick." "Twice," Chastity said. Twice? "You're going to do it again, aren't you?" she said. * * * That night, I was sleeping on the couch when a visitor came to call. It was Chastity.She sat on the edge of the couch, and she touched my shoulder. Perhaps she should have let me sleep, given the hour I had to rise, but I thought it was a sweet gesture. There weren't many times she told me that she still cared. A hand on the arm could do that. I was wearing a short nightgown and lyingl underneath a Snoopy blanket. I woke. "Is everything okay, Chastity?" I said.??"Yes, sweetie. I just thought we should talk," she said. "You sucked off Mark tonight." ?"I did," I admitted. "I thought it was what you wanted." "It was. Did you like sucking his cock as much as all the others?" "There haven't been any others, Chastity. Just Mark." "Are you queer, Kerri?" "No," I said, biting my lip. "Despite evidence to the contrary." "Then why did you do it?" "I did it... to submit. I have learned that about myself, Chastity. I am submissive. I don't like that I'm submissive, but I do what I'm led to do. I guess it's why I never left the night I threatened to go. Staying here and giving you control was easier. It was, if you will, the sissy thing to do. If you want me to cook, I will. If you want me to clean, I will." "What if I want to pee on you?" I bit my lip. "Then you shall." "What if I want you to sleep in a dog cage?" "Then I will." And if I want you to eat shit?" "Then that's what I'll do." "Well, I'm not asking any of those things. Not yet. I just have to know you will do what I ask without question. The titties? The cock cage? That's all part of the same thing. It's you giving up ego and letting me run things." "Is this how it starts? Sissydom? Is this how a guy like me..someone who used to be a guy...gets into a dress?" "You're cute in a dress. Your mom liked the pictures I sent." I groaned. "You didn't." "But I did," she laughed. "No, not the cock-sucking picture. Just a picture of you in your maid's dress. I' m sure she'll put it on the refrigerator." I shook my head. "What next?" "You want to know? Really?" "What?" I asked suspiciously. "I've made you a cuckold, darling. Isn't that great? You don't ever put it in me anymore, and now you don't have to. There is somebody else." "Mark?" "Don't be silly. He's yours." "Sherry?" "I'm not a lesbian. You're the only gay soul in this house." "Who?" "Charlie! Big-cock Charlie. Remember when I let you go down on me the other night? It was after Charlie fucked me, so most of what you licked up was him. Surprise! Cream-pie!" I groaned. Another man's sperm? That pretentious asshole's sperm? "Now, I'm telling you this, because Charlie is coming over tonight, and I want you to be nice to him. Okay? We're getting close, and I think having a sissy boy between us in bed might seal the deal. So rest that mouth of yours. Give the ass the day off. And keep that fucking cage on." "Chastity? Let me be your boyfriend again! Let's put these dresses and makeup away! Let's stop the pills! I'll be good to you." "Oh, sissy. You can't go back. You can't be a man again. Who would make my lunch?" "I'll still do that. I'll still clean up. I just don't want to be a sissy anymore." "And snakes don't want to be snakes, and cockroaches don't want to be cockroaches, and skunks don't want to be skunks. You have to be what you are, baby. He's a man. You're a sissy. That's all there is to it." She got up and padded through the house, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Charlie Barrington was an ass-clown He had a silver spoon in his ass, and I had a rubber butt-plug in mine. It wasn't fair! Maybe when I was blowing him later, I'd bite his dick. That would teach him. * * * When you learn your girlfriend has betrayed you, it hurts. When you lean your friends and family now know you are a sissy, it hurts. When you realize the girlfriend thinks of you as a gay transexual wimp, it hurts. You what really hurts? When you grow to like it. This is me. I have taken to posing in the mirror. I have started publishing selfies online. I look at my breasts and tell them to hurry. I am a sissy! I exult in it! This feels as if I have betrayed myself. Perhaps I am simply accepting my nature. But dick isn't bad. Butt sex is fun. Cross dressing is amazing. I love my panties. My bra. My life. I long to meet other sissies, to learn about them, to compare superiors. This is my life. As long as Chastity loved me, it would work out. Right? *** Charlie arrived just after eight. He handed me his coat and his gloves and walked past me. Charlie's kind does not mess with the help unless it's called for. He kissed Chastity on the mouth. Hard. I glanced at the floor. "So, this is the sissy," he said. "I haven't seen you for a long time. You were wearing pants back then. I guess times have changed." I felt exposed in front of him. The rich have always done that to me, made me feel as if I were being judged somehow. I brought him a drink. I curtsied. Curtsied? I never curtsied! I didn't even like Charlie. He had a way of making me feel like a beginner. We served lobster for dinner. It was Chastity's idea. She was trying so hard to impress Charlie. He sat and started talking about visiting Spain, and the best chateau to find wine when in France, and how the new Country Club was going to be fun. Every now and then he would push his wine glass toward me, and I would fill it. I was a domestic here, the hired help. I wasn't Chastity's boyfriend anymore. When dinner was over, I was informed that I should draw Charlie a bath. I did. I ran warm water, and I put out our finest soaps. I was still working when he came in and took off his clothes. He stood there, nude, checking out my reaction to his large penis. I looked away. I fetched towels and put down the toilet lid. He lay down and stretched out in the tub, most of him underwater "Might I get you anything else?" "Well, a hand-job would be nice." I looked at him. I turned away. "Kerri! You know your Mistress would want you to. Just wash my dick. Enthusiastically." I plunged my hand into the water. His dick was there, just under the surface. Somehow, jacking him off felt more humiliating than blowing him, worse than taking him up my ass. It was more personal. Chastity walked into the room and looked. My right hand was under water, churning. I blushed. ?"Well, isn't it nice that sissy is getting her master's dick all nice and clean!" she said. "But don't waste it before you taste it. There are two of us, and he only has one dick. Nice dick, though. How long do you think you could hold your breath if I let you dive for dick?" "Chastity..." "Mistress," she corrected me. "It's time you called me Mistress." Charlie fucked me that night. In my ass and in my face. Mistress made me lick his dick as it was inserted in her vagina, right at the juncture where I could lick them both at the same time. No one made me feel more whoreish that Charlie. No one made me feel Ike less. "You know what she needs?" Charlie said. "She needs a glory hole. She needs a half-dozen cocks sticking out toward her for her to lick." "Where can we find one," Chastity said, clapping. "The adult theatre downtown has one, I bet." And so we traipsed to the theatre, and we found the glory hole, and I sucked blind cock for three hours. If I wanted humiliation, this was it! I still did not think of myself as gay, but I had now had a half-dozen penises this month. I had started to browse gay men's magazines. I had started to check out men who walked past me on the sidewalk. If someone wanted to call me a faggot these days, I would simply nod and agree. * * * It all came crashing down just before Christmas. I was still keeping her apartment up. I had begun to wonder what we would do for the holidays, whether I would be required to remain in dresses if we went to her home in Tennessee or mine in Ohio. Then one day, Chastity came bursting through the door, happy and singing. She was engaged! Charlie wanted her to come home with him to Virginia, and to convince her, he had proposed. As happy as I had been as my self-acceptance, I had lost her! All of these days, all of these nights, it had all been for Chastity. I sought my submissive nature because she had wanted it. I wore dresses for her. My breasts were coming in nicely for her. My hair was long enough to roll now. For her. "Oh, Kerri, I'm sorry it worked out this way," Chastity said. "But you couldn't expect me to marry the flipping maid. Can you imagine that ceremony. Me in a wedding dress, and you in a maid's dress. You would march down the aisles polishing the banisters. That would be too funny." She gave me two weeks to find a place. Two weeks to uproot my life, again. Did I go back to being a boy? Did I go back to dating girls? I was depressed, and lonely, and scared. Eventually, I got a job with Maid in Ohio, a housekeeping service that was always looking for help. Its maids served southern Ohio, most of the big buildings and most of the chain hotels. There were new uniforms, functional gray ones, that we all wore when we were cleaning. I made enough to get a small apartment, but only enough for one wardrobe. I kept it female to go with my job. I didn't say much - one of the other girls thought I spoke Spanish. I guess it was bound to happen. I was making up the honeymoon suite one day. Fresh towels, fresh linens, the finest lotions the Drake had to offer. And there she was. ?Chastity. The hollow ache engulfed me, the old longing. "Oh," I said. "Hello, Kerri," she said. "Why are you here?" "I'm on my honeymoon, sweetheart. Charlie is in the next room. We're staying here." "You're honeymooning in Cincinnati? I would have thought you'd be in Tahiti." "Next month," she said. "Charlie has some work to do. It was just by accident we ran across you. Are you doing okay?" "I'm okay," I lied. "Well, it was nice seeing you. But I have work to do." I headed toward the door, a familiar tear falling out of my eye. Behind me, I could hear Charlie. "Oh, girl," he said. "Would you leave some extra towels? And could you send up champagne." Little by little, everything changes. Dust gathers by the speck. Wrinkles appear. Days turn into weeks. A reluctant sissy becomes a willing one, and loves leaves her. Water rises. Sands shift. Tears fall. And I go on, a lonely sissy who has been thrown away. As I walk away from her for the final time, the only sound I could hear was my heart breaking. (c) 2015 Cassandra Morgan