Prologue
After chatting with my very pretty CD friend Meeah, I decided I was going to write a little tidbit about my first CD encounter. Originally this was going to be a 100% true story. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on your disposition, my kinky/fetish side came through in a few places. There were some things my roomy and I talked/fantasized about but never did. I’m penning them here to bulk up the story. Since this prologue is being written after the story is finished, I put truth vs fantasy at around a 60/40 split (in favor of truth). Please note that the following events are as I remember them. Some incidents and phrases are not exact but all are in keeping with the overall theme. Note that this period of my life was 30 years ago. I don’t think “filling in the blanks” here and there detracts from the spirit of the piece. Sometimes it takes a long retrospective period to decipher or explain the past. During the summer after College I wrote about a number of the things my roomy and I did. This wasn’t done to immortalize our deeds for future generations. It was done so I could re-live the moments in a desperate attempt to recapture them. I think it odd that my remembrances just a month or so after the events contain bits of “fantasy” and “kink” that never happened. Now, 30+ years later, I can see the reality, though it’s sometimes hazy. For your enjoyment, here is my tale.
Young but no fun
Growing up, from birth until around age 10, I was a very sick boy. I had a rare blood disease that made me miss a great deal of school. There was a three month stretch, when I was around 8, where I laid in bed the entire time. I mention this only to give clues to how my character formed. When I did get better (puberty hit) I was in essence a social outcast. I didn’t know how to play ball, wrestle, fight and was very weak from my long illness. I was called a sissy, 4 eyes (I wore glasses), weakling, spaz and other negative names of the day. Needless to say I was picked on and sometimes beaten up. This abuse and bullying continued up to my sophomore year in HS. By that time boy’s minds, as was mine, were geared solidly towards girls and getting in their pants. For the most part, I was left alone. As a male, I had “toughened up”. I also had an interest in resistance training. Though I wasn’t at all bulky or muscular, I was physically fit. I graduated HS and took off for College. My first year was at Stockton State in Pomona NJ. I lived in an apartment on campus with four other boys. Each apartment had a small kitchen, living room, storage room, two bedrooms and a bathroom. Obviously two boys shared a bedroom. Our Apartment was in the “E” court. Though it was a two hour drive from home, for the first semester I came home every weekend. I usually left Friday early afternoon and came back early Sunday night. My parents really missed me plus I had dirty laundry. Unfortunately, I also wasn’t scoring to well with the fairer sex, so there was no overriding reason to stay.
Tim or Tina
Two of my roomies knew each other beforehand. They shared a bedroom. They only lived around 45 minutes from Stockton and went home every weekend. In fact, most weeks they would leave on Friday morning, after classes, and return on Monday. My bedroom mate was a boy from Florida named Tim. He was frail, skinny and around my height (5’8”). He was on the shy side, as was I, and kept to himself. He came here all the way from Florida because he didn’t want to be around his family (read mother) and he wanted to be in a liberal school (Stockton was very liberal) with a good “Arts” major/program. As a side note, I came to Stockton because I had very liberal tendencies and views. Stockton opened my eyes and I left there a staunch, though kinky, conservative. In this regard I never looked back.
To continue, Tim was very secretive. He had a locked storage box which he kept under his bed. I never saw him go in it and just assumed it contained either “pot” or some other drugs (Stockton, at that time, was also considered a party school). Obviously Tim never went home on weekends. I also thought it odd that he never brought back any friends to the apartment. One weekend, sometime in early November, I decided to come back on Saturday night because the Gun club I belonged to (yes dear reader I was a liberal but loved to shoot. My family had a big gun tradition going) was having a party/bonfire on Sunday on the rifle range. I opened the door and went straight to my bedroom. I was proceeding to put away my laundry (that my Mom was kind enough to wash, dry and neatly fold) when a girl walked into the room. The first thought that came into my head was “so this is what Tim’s been playing with on the weekends”. She wasn’t beautiful, but was cute. She had on heels, hose and a slinky black dress. I hardly had a chance to say “hello” when she bolted for the bathroom. I quickly looked around for Tim, but he wasn’t there. I now became curious as to what she was doing in my apartment all alone. I asked her through the door if she was waiting for Tim. She meekly answered “yes”. I apologized for scaring her and went back to putting my clothes away. Around 5 minutes had passed and she was still in there. I asked her if she knew when Tim was coming back. Her meek reply was “no”. I thought it odd she hadn’t come out but struck it up to some “woman problem” she may be experiencing. I decided to watch some TV. This also gave me a clear view of the Hall when she did decide to vacate the toilet. After around 20 minutes she was still in there. Now I was getting concerned. Plus, where the hell was Tim. I went over and knocked on the door asking if she was alright. Again a meek “yes”. I then lied and said I needed to use the toilet. She whispered through the door, “Please use the neighbors. I can’t come out now”. I walked away from the door and sat on the couch. I was getting pissed. I was also starting to panic. “What if she was using drugs”? “What if she was slashing her wrists”? A hundred thoughts flashed through my mind. I had enough. I walked over to the door and gave her an ultimatum. “Either be out in two minutes or I was coming in”. I walked back to the couch and after a minute heard the door click open. I walked to the bathroom and peered in. There she was. Fully clothed and sitting on the toilet. Her head was lowered. She was sobbing. I knelt down and picked up her chin. Her mascara was running down her cheek. I looked into her eyes. That’s when I saw it. I was in shock and had a hard time getting out the words, “Tim, is that you”? Slowly her trembling voice responded “yes”. I always looked down upon males who cried. I even hated myself for crying when I was being bullied and beaten. Part of me wanted to shake or slap Tim and shout, “what the FUCK is this”! A larger part of me felt compassion and I found myself wiping his tears away. I promised this would be our secret. From there the floodgates opened.
Tim, who preferred being called Tina when dressed, was a longtime CD and sissy. I heard about his abusive mother who dressed him as a girl from a young age because she despised men. She showed me her secret locker full of feminine clothes, nail polish, etc. Boy she loved to talk. I think in those few hours she (I’ll call him “she” from now on) talked more to me than in the couple months we spent together. Apparently she would dress every Saturday. In the beginning she kept a change of clothes in the bathroom in case anyone came home unexpectedly. Since no one ever did, she stopped doing it. Looking back, I think that maybe subconsciously she wanted to get caught. She was definitely a “sub” and into, at least to some degree, humiliation. That’s enough of my psychoanalysis. Maybe she was just not too bright (my apologies to the Art majors).
Blood and Kisses
As promised, Tina’s secret was safe. I didn’t even tell my best friend. Though she wore “man” clothes and had a “manly” (yet soft-spoken) voice, I found myself treating her differently. Maybe it was my imagination but I smiled more when I was around her. I also found myself getting in between her and our room-mates. The other two boys were typical “boys” and loved to roughhouse. I could see in the past this upset Tina. Now I knew the reason why. Before I continue I need to mention that Tina had two large “male” gloves that she stuck on her bedposts. Her hands were on the large size so I assumed they were hers. She explained that the gloves were her fathers. Having them watch over her at night kept her, I assume, feeling safe (or at least gave her some comfort). They looked like “hunter” gloves with a dark camo print and a fur lining. One night, right before Christmas/Winter break, I was out partying. There were a lot of parties on Campus that night. To be honest, I don’t remember why. I assume it was because finals were over. Though it could have been a Hockey game (Stockton had a lot of Flyers fans, including my room-mates). Regardless I got drunk at the party I went to on “Annie Greenspring” country wine. I didn’t throw up but I was definitely nauseous. I staggered home to find my two other roomies running around the apartment in their jockey shorts spraying/throwing after shave (or maybe whip cream, or glue or toothpaste) or something “white” and foamy at each other. Everything had these white blotches on it. I was way to sick to care and collapsed on my bed. The next morning I looked over and saw Tina sitting on her bed holding one of the gloves. I don’t think she was crying but she was obviously sad. She related that before I got home they came into our bedroom and starting spraying everything. They thought she was asleep. They also took her gloves and put the stuff inside. The fur was now ruined. I took the glove from her and marched into the living room. One boy had left for class but the other one was watching TV. I started to yell that he ruined “Tim’s” gloves. He made some disparaging remarks along the lines of “I don’t give a fuck” and “let Tim fight his own battles”. I countered with something like “what kind of guys go running around in their underwear smearing cream on each other”. This got him very angry. Before he could hit me I found myself lunging at him. This was not a well thought out move on my part since he was bigger/broader than me and on the wrestling team. What saved me from getting killed is we found ourselves wedged, after a few tumbles, between the couch and the wall. We let go of each other and, thank God, cooler heads took over. He apologized for the gloves and I apologized for my remarks. He left the apartment and I was feeling rather good till I spied blood dripping on my chest. Somehow my chin got cut on something. Tina was very nice and sat me down. Like a mother hen, she took a cold washcloth, antiseptic and bandage and fixed my wound. Then she did something I’ll never forget. She leaned over and kissed my cheek. I really had funny feelings about this. Mixed emotions I believe is the catch phrase. Part of me felt very uncomfortable and wanted to leave. Another part felt warm and happy that someone was so grateful and kind. This time my “macho” side won out and I left the apartment without saying a word. A few days later I left for home on Christmas break.
What would Jesus do?
During my stay at home, I found it hard to get Tina out of my head. I would sometimes think of her in that black dress and my dick would start to rise. Was I Gay? Was I Bi? Maybe the kids were right. Maybe I was a sissy and secretly longed to CD and feel a cock up my ass or down my throat. Then again I really liked naked women. Though I only fucked a pussy twice, an ass once and got two BJs, all those experiences were really, REALLY great. Nope, I decided I was definitely not Gay. I could not ignore though my feelings for Tina. Bi was still on the table. I got back to College sometime in January. Tina had not gone home. My other room-mates had not arrived yet so I gave Tina her present. It was a bottle of perfume that I labeled “for the weekends”. She promised me my present later. The week went by and seemed to drag on. Finally Friday came and the boys went home. I decided to stay. After all, the Gun Club was having another bonfire party. I don’t know if the College turns down the heat on the weekend or if it just got very cold but our apartment was no longer warm and toasty. I love to go barefoot and my feet were like ice. It was near midnight and I was on the couch watching TV. I had a blanket wrapped around my feet. Tina came over and sat on the other end of the couch. I was kind of hoping she’d be in something pretty but I guess it was too cold for that. She was wearing sweats with a blanket wrapped around her. Her feet had on these thick gray socks (yuck!). She commented on how cold it was and her feet were freezing. I gave her one of those looks and doubted her freezing feet under those thick socks. She then slid both her feet over to me and tried to get them under my blanket. “Are you crazy”, I shouted. “Get those stinking, dirty socks off of me”! With that she pulled her knees up to her chin and proceeded to take off her socks. God, did she have sexy feet. Small (a size 8 I found out later. I’m a size 8 to 9 depending on width. I have a wide foot. She was medium to narrow) with long toes and candy red nail polish. It didn’t occur to me at the time but her large hands and small feet didn’t match up. Later I speculated (fantasized is more accurate) that her mother bound her feet or gave her something to stop growing. I knew this wasn’t true, but it was fun to think about.
She slid her feet back under my blanket. My dick was starting to rise. She slowly wiggled her feet under my thigh. She was right, they were cold. I apologized for doubting her. It’s strange but as I felt her feet under me I had thoughts of Jesus, and Mary washing his feet. Then I thought about the other Apostles and women washing their bare feet. Why do I think these things? Funny how the mind works and the associations it makes. Back to reality. I knew my next move was a turning point, but I didn’t care. I took one of her feet and placed it on my lap under the blanket. I should mention I was only wearing boxer shorts and a T-shirt, my normal evening attire. Once on my lap I started to massage her foot under the pretense of warming it up. In reality, it was me who was getting hot. I’m sure she could feel my dick rise, tiny though it is, under my shorts. I thought I had gone too far because she abruptly removed her foot and moved it back down under the blanket. I was about to say “I’m sorry”, when she cooed. “That foot is warm enough, try this one”. Before I could reach for her other foot she slid it up my thigh and under my boxers. Her delicious heel was now nestled lovingly against my balls. Her sole wrapped around my rod and her toes gently shielding my head. I was lost. I was conquered.
My hands wrapped themselves around her tender foot and my hard staff (which had poked through my boxers slit). She brought her other foot up to join the fray. With wild abandon I pumped between her soles. I felt lust. I felt hot. I felt pain. Her feet were tender but so was my head. I was about to spit up mankind’s oldest lube (am I classy or what) when she must have realized something was wrong. She pulled her feet back again, kind of giggled at me and reached for something inside her sweats. She took out a tube of lotion and rubbed it into her soles and toes. She then reached over and pulled off my blanket. My rod was still at attention. She slid down and used the couch’s arm as a headrest as her two feet glided over to caress my shaft. She playfully said, “I want to watch”. I held her feet firmly against my rod. She splayed out her knees so I could more easily form a “hole” with her soles.
I played it cool at first and slowly, deliberately moved her oily feet up and down. Every time my head popped up and out, I let out a soft moan. I love to moan when having sex. I looked over and could see her own shaft rising under her sweats. It looked much bigger than mine L I could see her hands under her top pinching her nipples. I wondered why they weren’t in her pants. Her eyes were fixed on my shaft. I now closed my eyes and pumped harder. My hands and hips thrust in unison as her soles curled around me. Faster and faster, harder and harder, louder and louder. My guttural moans filled the room. At last my body stiffened and my head broke through for the last time. Torrents of cum pulsed through my shaft. My last strained cry ushered it into the world. One advantage of a small dick is the distance you can shoot. My volcano didn’t disappoint and geysered into the cold air. Some milky dollops landed on her leg. The rest oozed onto her tender toes which now played with my mushroom head. I massaged my essence into her soles and toes. She smiled at me. I commented on her bulge. She seemed embarrassed and said it would soon go away. Then she said something which kind of threw me. She lowered her eyes and obediently uttered, “I’m here for your pleasure, not mine”. I thought for a second and realized what a treasure I’ve come across. Like a parent talking to a child I told her it would please me to now watch her. I told her to take out her “clitty” (it seemed awkward calling it a cock), lube it up and play with herself. These tasks she did without question. As her “clit” emerged I stared and guessed about 8 inches (or more). It was longer and thicker than mine by a wide margin. Life is not fair. As her hand started to stroke it I brought one of her feet up to my mouth. I started to suck on her cum covered toes and realized what and awful taste the lotion had. I went back to massaging them and watched intently as her hand moved up and down. Her soft moans were now getting louder and her hand picked up it’s pace. I gave it a few seconds then ordered her to “STOP”. She was surprised but obediently stopped her stroking. I saw her clit twitch a little and thought it might blow. Happily it didn’t. I told her to get up, remove all her clothes, wash all the lotion off her clit and come back to me naked. She stood before me and removed her sweats. She then took the blanket and wrapped it around her as she made her way to the sink. A few minutes later she again stood before me. I motioned her to come closer till she was standing between my legs. I took hold of the blanket and roughly pulled it away from her. She stood there naked, smooth and shivering. I studied her drooping clit which had now shrunk considerably (yet still bigger than me erectL) There was no hair anywhere. Funny how I never noticed that in the pre Tina days. I started to touch it. I never touched one other than my own. I then spun her around and had her bend over. Her ass was smooth also. I touched the outside with me finger and she let out a moan. I teased her hole for a few seconds then told her to lay down across my lap. She obediently lay across and positioned herself so her ass was in the air and her “clit” was nestled against my “dick”. I imagine she thought I was going to finger her hole. Instead my hand came down hard against her creamy cheeks. She gave out a yelp. This was a test on both our parts to see where the boundaries lay. My boundaries, even at that young age, went much farther than the norm. Hers, I’m happy to say, went just as far. I told her I was punishing her for not being naked, as I instructed, and wearing a blanket. I asked her if she understood. She meekly answered “yes”. I said I would give her thirty smacks. She was to count out each one. If she reached for her ass or attempted to move away, I would double the number. She again answered “yes”. My first few blows weren’t all that hard. More like love taps. She moaned a little and I could feel her clitty getting hard. I was determined to stop her erection. The following blows hit her ass hard. Very hard. Loud “SMACKS” filled the air. My hand started to hurt and her cheeks turned a bright pink and then red. Finally her moans turned to cries. Like a madman I continued to hit her. Even through the cold, my body started to sweat. Her ass bounced up and down in my lap. The last ten blows really stung. I had to use the back of my hand because my palm hurt so much. I could see pretty purple bruises replacing the red. Her cries turned to loud sobs. I couldn’t wait to see her tear stained cheeks. Finally it was over. As I told her to rise I saw my dick at attention. I also saw that she had cum all over it. Her clit was still dripping with cum. I told her to suck my dick clean. This she eagerly did. Her sweet head bobbed up and down and licked and sucked my cock like a starving baby. I held her head in my hands and pushed her down all the way on my cock. I then ordered her to take my hairy balls in her mouth as well (I’m small enough were this could be accomplished). I held her down tight against me. I wanted to feel her throat on my cock. I wanted to feel her muscles spasm and make her gag. God it felt so good. As I brought her head up she gasped for air. At that moment I erupted again onto her tear and cum stained face. I stood up and stood her up before me. She was trembling and still catching her breath. I caressed her and starting gently licking the cum and tear mixture. She quieted down. Like in a “classic” movie scene, our eyes met and I kissed her hard. Our tongues intertwined and we shared the sweet nectar of our passion. Things would never be the same.
My apologies to Aunt Jemima
A few things were very evident from our first encounter:
That night she wore a sexy nighty and slept in my bed. I didn’t enter her but enjoyed rubbing my dick against her bruised bottom. Don’t worry dear reader. I rubbed her cheeks with A&D ointment to soothe her pain. In the morning she made me breakfast. Just like playing house. As she puttered in the Kitchen, I braved a cold drizzle to buy a newspaper. Part of me hoped the rain would stop so I could go to the bonfire. Part of me wanted to stay home all day and night with Tina.
As I walked in the door she obediently, on her own, knelt down to take off my wet shoes. I told her my socks were damp. These too she lovingly slid off my feet. “Warm them up”, I said as I sat down by the Kitchen table. She scooted over, took my right foot in her lap and started to massage it. After a few seconds I lifted my foot up to her face. Her mouth eagerly opened. She grasped my heel and her tongue swirled around my toes. Gently sucking, gently licking. The other foot soon got the same treatment. I was getting hard. When she was done, I patted her head like a good puppy dog. She went back to the Stove. Homemade pancakes were one of her specialties. As she fried them up I watched her cute bruised ass jiggle through her see through nighty. I was very hard. She walked over and put four pancakes on the plate before me. As she walked back to the Stove, I unbuckled my pants and kicked them off along with my underwear. My cock was at its max (which isn’t saying much). The few inches I did have followed her pretty ass back to the Stove. As she was getting ready to pour more batter into the frying pan, I grabbed her from behind. Her hole was still greasy from the A&D and my head found its mark. What a sweet hole. I rammed it in hard and I had to catch her from falling over. It didn’t take long for my batter to splatter in her bowels. I reached down and could tell she was hard. A squeeze on her sissy balls and a slap on her sore bottom signaled her to get back to cooking. It only took a few minutes for more pancakes to be produced. I actually waited for her so we could eat together. After she put them on the table, she started to walk away. “Where do you think you’re going”, I bellowed. Apparently some of my cum started oozing out of her ass and she wanted to wipe herself. I ordered her back to the table. I lifted up her nighty and told her to bend over. Sure enough, she was leaking cum. A wicked though crossed my mind and I reached over for her pancakes. I placed them under her ass and ordered her to “push”. She seemed reluctant so I smacked her sore bottom. I could sense her straining as my creamy nectar dripped from her ass onto her pancakes. Not much was getting expelled, though she kept straining. Another wicked thought came as I spied the “Log Cabin” syrup. I took it and pushed the nozzle up her ass. She was startled but didn’t back away. I squeezed as hard as I could on the bottle. The sticky, gooey syrup flowed into her hole. When I thought she had enough I extracted the bottle. She knew what I was after. She again strained but this time a long stream of brown syrup flowed down and out of her bowels. It varnished her pancakes with a glistening sweet topping. Once pancakes had been topped off, I put the plate down and proceeded to suck and lick the remaining syrup from her sweet hole. This made her moan and, once again, she became hard. As I licked deeper I reached around and started to jerk her off. Her ass moved back tight against my lips as her hands grasped her sore cheeks and pulled them apart. She freely offered herself up to me. Good girls need their rewards. I sucked and licked as she strained and pushed. Soon I felt her clit spasm and warm cum hit the floor. She came just in time. Her ass juice stopped tasting sweet and now had a bitter taste. She ran to the bathroom and made it to the toilet just as her poop emerged. I’m not excusing my depraved behavior dear reader, but my “scat” encounter came a few years before Aids. I was young, horny and ignorant. A bad combination in any culture or time. Ignorance is indeed bliss, at least for a while. Looking back, I was very lucky. After pancakes the rain stopped and I left to prepare for the bonfire. I could have left later but we both needed a rest. Sexual rest that is. That night we again slept in each other’s arms. No sex, just lots of cuddles. By the by, the bonfire party was great. Lots of kegs, wine and drunken ladies. I didn’t score, but then again, I had Tina.
Rules were made to be broken
Based upon our “new” relationship, I thought some rules were in order:
Of course the above wasn’t written anywhere. It was just understood. My weekends (forgive me mother) were now spent with Tina. From Winter break to end of the School year only time I went home was on my birthday. Even under her “male” clothes I told Tina to wear her pantyhose. She was only too happy to oblige. As far as my other roomies went, we avoided them whenever possible. This wasn’t difficult given our different schedules. I’d help Tina with her Art projects and more mundane courses. She was a sweet girl but not an intellectual giant. In regards to our privacy I took the crowbar from my car and made a slit in the plywood under our carpet. I then propped the bar against the door handle and wedged the other end into the wooden slit. This worked really well and insured our privacy. Once the bar was removed the carpet covered the slit. Tina gave me a big kiss for my ingenuity. Besides the occasional suck and fuck there were a number of things we did on an ongoing, almost ritualistic, basis. I loved when she would give me a foot job while wearing her sheer black hose. Sometimes I’d lube up my dick first, sometimes I’d lotion up her hose. Sometimes she’d blow me to almost cumming then slip my cock between her feet. I’d moan and fuck her soles and the world became mine. Afterwards I’d massage my cum into the silky mesh. I’d then suck her dainty toes through the cum caked hose (assuming she used no lotion). Once she started to squirm as her feet were jerking me off. She had to pee. Ed’s kinky light came on and I followed her into the bathroom. I lay down in the tub.
In case I hadn’t mentioned, since our second weekend together I usually was nude. I love being bare. Before I use to slip into bed and take off my underpants under the covers. Not anymore. Since my weekend rod was always exposed, she started referring to my cock as her “baby” or her “little man”. I didn’t take offense at this because I knew she loved to baby it and watch it grow. I also found it arousing to hear her refer to her little boy when we had sex. Looking back, I think maybe her forced sissy childhood brought back pedo memories. Regardless, I found it very erotic, as did she, to pretend. I can still hear myself saying, “Baby boy wants mommy’s special kiss”. Ah, sweet memories. Sorry for the distraction. Let’s get back to the tub.
As I lay in the tub I motioned her to sit on the tub edge and position her nylon feet on my cock. All I said was, “make them wet”. Like a good little girl she pulled out her clitty and peed all over her feet. She crunched her toes and seemed to enjoy it. The warm piss and wet hose felt wonderful on my staff. I was so turned on I came before her pee stopped. I moved down and covered my face with her soaking wet soles. It was wonderful sucking her toes and actually swallowing liquid. Her clitty got very big. I love to hear her moan and see her so horny. I pulled her down on top of me and kissed her deeply. Remnants of her pee I, literally, spat in her mouth. Her clit was rubbing against my cock. I knew she wasn’t going to last long. I decided today was the day. I rolled over on my stomach. The words slid from mouth like a hiss from a snake, “Fuck your little boy”. She quickly reached for the soap and gave my hole a quick smear. Then she plunged into me. Not a sweet gentle insertion, but a firm push all the way in. I could feel her sissy balls against my hole. I half screamed, half moaned as it invaded. I never felt anything like it. It hurt but felt so good. She didn’t fuck me but just lay on top. Not another speck of clit would fit in. It was so surreal. Lying in her warm piss, her clit head buried deep in my bowels, feeling her tender head against my shoulder. Then I felt her body spasm and could feel her clitty pulsing sissy juice deep inside me. She was so silent but hugged me warmly. I strained to close my sphincter so I could feel her contractions better. It was over in a few seconds. I would have loved to lie there longer and keep feeling her clit inside me, however, a tub without water and someone on top of you is extremely uncomfortable. I told her to get up. Feeling her withdraw was also pleasurable. Her clit head was soiled brown. Obviously it met a friend inside my bowels. That friend now wanted to come out (or should I say cum out). Tina started to leave but I ordered her to lay face up in the tub. She hesitated, but did it. I squatted over her. I didn’t want to ruin things and I still wasn’t sure how far I could push the envelope. I played it safe and squatted over her feet. I was facing her head. Sissy cum tinged brown squirted from my hole and covered her wiggling wet toes. Tina seemed to enjoy the sensation. I think, I know, she was very happy I was over her feet and not her mouth. Soon a long happy poop emerged and melted over her wet nylons. I squatted lower and felt her poopy toes push up into my ass. Soon I was done and ordered her to stand. I closed the shower curtain. Before I turned on the water she came and hugged me. I could feel her poopy feet rubbing up and down my leg. She stood on my feet and rubbed her soles over them. It smelled, but it was hot. I turned on the shower and we washed each other. I even let her take off her hose. I don’t have a good explanation but that was the only time she fucked me. I don’t think being a “man” felt good to her. I also was struggling, to a certain degree, with my own sexuality. Her fucking me, as pleasurable as it was, just added another complication.
If you recall, she hesitated when I asked her to lie in the tub. For this discretion, she had her choice of punishments:
Personally I loved number five. It gave me a wide range of things to put up her ass (bananas was a favorite). The quantity to put up there (cramps are no fun) and how long she had to hold it in (cramps are really no fun). Naturally number of hits (number 1 and 3) and duration (2 and 4) was dependant upon seriousness of offense. Just in case you think I was soft in offering her a choice, she couldn’t pick the same punishment again till she went through all 5. Her favorites were 4, 3 and 1 (in that order). Least favorite was tiptoe girl. Reason being, if she couldn’t stand for that long on tiptoe, she got an additional punishment of my choosing. Too bad for her, all the punishments had been used up except for tiptoe. On the plus side, once she got past tiptoe, she could choose from all 5 again next time. In the past, I had made her stand for as long as four hours (she didn’t make it), but I was in a good mood so told her one hour.
Stand on tiptoe, oh so high
I qualified my tiptoe punishment by telling her I was preparing her feet for a lifetime of heels. I prefer bare feet or, preferably, sheer black hose and no shoes. There are a lot of guys though, most I imagine, who love a girl in sexy heels. The higher, the better. Since I was somewhat skilled in electronics, it was no big deal to create a buzzer device that I wrapped around her foot. Any contact with the floor, or with anything, and the buzzer sounded. We had a punching bag in the storage room that my wrestling roomy used. I’d tie her hands around it. Slip a device on each foot. Tell her to get up on her toes and turn it on. Simplicity itself. Now I was free to watch TV and putter around without wasting time watching her. I must admit though, sometimes it was fun to bring up a chair and just watch her sweat. During Spring Break we stayed at school. It was amazing how “bad” she was and how many times I had to punish herJ. That was one of the happiest weeks in my life.
Rim Sins
Before I wrap this up I want to mention our second favorite pastime. This occurred a lot since we did it during the week in bed. I’m very oral and love ass (no surprise there). Tina liked it too but I think it was more to please me. We would regularly rim each other. After enema punishments, this was a given. I loved to sit on her head and feel her tongue go way up me. I’d order her to suck as I slapped her clitty or played with her nips. So many times I wanted to poop, but never did. It was enough the few times I felt her tongue push against a hard log. This signaled the end of rimming and the bathroom jog for shitting. I couldn’t blame her. I found the taste of poop not at all to my liking. She would sit on my face and play with my dick as I rimmed her. I loved to suck my cum out of her oozing hole. I relished the taste of other food (bananas, grapes, hard boiled eggs, chocolate, etc.) that I frequently pushed up there. Like her though, once I tasted poop that was all she wrote. I’m sure I must have ingested a bunch given some of the sweet things her pretty hole pushed into my hungry mouth. Ah, sweet memories. We were so lucky we never got sick. In that regard, it was for the best when we parted. A month before school ended we also took up piss sips on a regular basis. I don’t remember how it started but drinking each others pee from the source or a glass became a regular event. Maybe this was the last straw. The final depravity that pushed us apart. She told me a week before school ended she was going back to Florida. I told her I was going to a local College next Fall. I had my fill of Stockton and it wouldn’t be the same without her. I fucked her one last time. She purposely held her ass up to keep my cum from dripping out. She said she wanted my “boys” to live inside her. Next day she was gone. Day after I was gone. I wanted to keep in touch but she wanted a clean break. Even though at a certain level we loved each other, we both knew (at least she did) that it was best for us to part. That summer I went into a mild depression and wrote some stories about our “adventures”. Luckily I met a girl (a real girl) who loved to party and fuck. If there was ever a cure for depression (in men at least), that was it.
Epilogue
The few people I’ve told about Tina had a hard time understanding how we got so “kinky” so fast. I don’t have an answer other than repression. We both wanted to, needed to, break out. When the moments came, there was no holding back the flood. Looking back, another odd thing is we never used Dildos or other sex toys. They certainly were harder to get back then but it wasn’t impossible. Maybe we didn’t feel the need. A drug store enema bag, with attachments, was good enough for us. I also want everyone to know that we both didn’t do drugs or even smoked. I think this was due to our “contrary” nature. Everyone else at Stockton, instructors included, delighted in getting high. Before I close, one more thing. An astute reader should be wondering what Tina gave me for Christmas. It was a tall wax figure of a man that she made herself. I still have it.
I love you Tina. Always have. Always will. God bless wherever you are.
Femasquer@aol.com
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