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How To Be A Boi Bitch Lesson 01

By: gothicboibitch



To be a bitch, darlings, is to celebrate. Life. Love. Lust. But most of all, celebrate yourself. That's why a bitch is hot. And you want to be a bitch, don't you? That is why are are listening. You want to be like me. Know that you already are. But still hiding it. Not admitting it, not even to yourself. Especially to yourself. 

You want it. No longer be chained to anybody or anything other than your own desires. It makes you a slave. It makes you free. Slavery is freedom. If you are your own master. And your desires are your mistress. You want to chain yourself to them. Be a naked except for them. Display them and yourself. 

You want those cocks to be stirred when they see you, boi or girl, it makes no difference. Being a bitch is not about a gender. Being a bitch is about more than the sum of your body parts. Cocks or cunts. They are the same.

Celebrate the bitch. Celebrate yourself.

And be smoking hot. 

And that is why bitches are smoking.

You have thought about it, haven't you? I know you have. When the wife is away. When the boyfriend is with his buddies. When you watched them. In black and white. In old movies. And the music videos that emulate them. The beautiful bitches and their glamor.

Smoking.

I'm one of them. 

And I want you to be one of them. I want you to want it. I know you do. I am your voice. I am inside you. Holding your down. Pushing myself into your mind. Coming up to you from behind. It's where you want me. And where I have been for a long time. Say it. Quietly. Admit it, just to yourself. Not to your wife. Not to your husband. Not to your girlfriend or boyfriend. There will be time for that. Later. When your voice has become more than a whisper, and your desires have taken control of you. And you no longer look back. Or hold back.

I want to be a bitch. 

You are no longer a man. No longer a woman. You are a cock. You are a cunt. Say it. Whisper it. Don't just think it. It needs to be leaving your mind. Wants to strut out into the world. That want. That need. It waits to be born. Needs to be heard. If only by yourself

I want to be a bitch. 

Did you say it? Did you feel it? The rush that has travelled up from your hard cock? Your wet cunt? I am inside you. I am you. On your best day. On that day you become a butterfly. On the day you become me. Become the bitch you always were.

I will teach you. I will talk you through it. I will do for you what my best friend Lesslie did for me. I will free your mind. I will teach you to seduce. I will teach you how to smoke. I will teach how to fuck.

Are you ready? I am. I will control you. Let it happen. Listen to me. 

And do as I say.

Because until I say otherwise, you will be my bitch.

(1) TO BE A BITCH IS TO BE BETTER

I know you have been standing there. At gas stations and convenience stores. Ogled by fat and sweaty men and pimple-faced teenagers. Looking at the cartons of cigarettes behind the counter. But never quite working up the courage to buy one for yourself. 

Forget about it. You are not an addict. Not looking for the next fix. Or the nicotine rush that makes you forget about the shitty day. At the office or at home. 

You are a bitch. And bitches don't shop in convenience stores, darlings.

Bitches celebrate everything, remember?

Celebrate that moment, too. When you shop for your first smoke. 

There's beauty in shopping. It's when the world opens up for you. Spreads itself on a counter for you to taste. Like a whore ready to give you everything, if you know what you want. What you demand. Demand it. And the world will give it to you. It begs for it, my darlings. 

It begs to be fucked by you. And it will say, thank you, come back again.

Smoking is an art. It requires preparation. And thought. You don't want to look anything less than your very best, darlings. For yourself. Even the cigarettes or cigars you will smoke will become a part of your soul. An extension of you. 

Colours. Taste. Looks. They will all become part you.

So choose your perversion. And do so with style, darlings. 

At a proper tobbaco specialty shop. 

I personally prefer small cigars these days. Or black Mores 120s. 

A smoke should be slender, an extension of your hand, your fingers, not like the cock of a fat, old man between your lips. I also prefer cigarette holders when I am a bitch. Short, ornate ones, preferably made out of silver or jade. 

They are not just fashion accessories. They are a statement.

Just as your cigarette case will be.

Cartons and packs are for addicts. We are not like them, you and me. If we were, your cock wouldn't be this hard right now, would it? Your cunt wouldn't be this wet. Oh, I know what you have been doing while you were listening to me. With your hands.

Don't worry. I won't tell on you. I want you to do it yourself. When you are good and ready. To become like me. Are you ready, bitch? Then this is what you will do. You will leave now. Leave this site open. While you are gone. 

You will find a tobacco store.

I want you to buy what we will need. I will wait for you. To teach you everything. To teach you the rest you need to know. Want to know. Go to the store. Go now. This is what you will buy. For me. And for yourself.

1 pack of Mores 120 (black)

1 cigarette holder

1 cigarette case

Don't be afraid. Don't hold back. Be flamboyant, darlings. Be a bitch. Because you are going to be my bitch. For as long as I will teach you.

Go now.

(2) THE ART OF THE SMOKE

Are you back? Were you nervous? Ashamed? A little embarrassed? I bet you were. I know I was. The first time I went. The first time my friend Lesslie made me do it. But it felt good, didn't it? So fucking good. When you were inside the store. And exposed that first little bit of your real self to somebody else. Somebody who doesn't know you. Only knows what you chose to show.

It was glorious, wasn't it?

Put it all on your desk in front of you. What you bought. And take that moment. Take it all in. Doesn't it look gorgeous already? We will do each step together, you and me. I am your mirror, and you will be mine. Look at it. 

Can you feel your heart beating faster? Fluttering? Mine is. Every time I prepare myself. For the moments that will follow. Hmmm. Think about it. What lines we will cross. Together. On that journey to come.

Now, empty the Mores 120 pack. And fill your cigarette case with them. I know you are anxious. And your heart is beating. All the way up to your throat. Pulsing there. And it's not the only thing that is pulsing, is it? Hmmmm. Yes. I know what you want. But don't do it. Not yet. Don't you dare.

Becoming a bitch requires patience. 

Be patient with yourself.

Look at them. The cigarettes you bought. They are you. Waiting. 

To be transfomed. Just like you are. Without fire, they are nothing. 

A bitch's fire. 

This is my gift to you.

That fire. 

To set you alight. To burn you up. 

In the flames of the whore.

To burn down what you were. 

Take out a cigarette now. Roll it between your fingers. It feels soft there, doesn't it? Between your finger tips. Soft, but with just enough hardness to give you the wrong ideas. The right thoughts. Filthy thoughts.

What is between your fingers now will be inside you soon. A creamy taste that will fill your mouth. Warmth that will spread through your chest. Staying there until you let it go. Like a lover fucking you. All over.

Take the cigarette holder. Slide the cigarette inside. Feel it fit right in. The cigarette is your cock. The holder is your cunt. They belong together. And soon they will belong to you. Will be part of you.

Don't fight it.

Put the holder to your lips. Fan the flame around the tip of the cigarette. And slowly inhale. Not all the way. Keep it in your mouth. Feel it spread. Fill you. Open your mouth for me. Let me see. White cream swiling around, like the seed of a ghost. Breeding your mouth. 

Like that of a glam whore. That is what you will become. What I will transform you into. What I will teach you. The glamor of the whore. It excites you, doesn't it? And you want to touch yourself right now. Everything inside of you screams. Screams for it. 

Touch me. Touch me. 

But not yet, my darlings. 

Remember what I told you about patience? A bitch is patient. And how to properly fuck yourself, not masturbate, but fuck... is a lesson for a another day.

I wish you could see yourself.

Breathe in. Take it all in. Spreading it through your body. Can you feel it?

Waiting for you to exhale?

I'm very proud of you, my darlings. 

So very proud. But there is so much more to learn.

So much more to teach. 

Before the bitch can come out.

To your wife. And your husband. 

Your boyfriend. And girlfriend.

And it will. That is what you want. 

To have them see you as you are.

And I will show you.

I will show you how. 

How To Be A Boi Bitch Lesson 02



Oh, my darling bois. I almost forgot to tell you. When I taught you how to smoke like a whore. It leaves something behind. Hmmmmm. Such a wonderful sweet smell that lingers. In that room you were in. It stays there. For hours.

To be smelled by your wife. Or your girlfriend. Did they ask you? Did they wonder? Who that bitch was? Who smoked? Do they suspect? Are you afraid that they do? That they will find you out? Find out that bitch was you?

Maybe I should have told you. Warned you. 

But I didn't feel like it. Hmmm. I didn't want to. That's right, bitch. I didn't want to. I told you. You are my bitch. For now. Until you have learned your lessons. Until I release you. Into the world. Into your new body and soul.

And I wanted them to know. To wonder. About you. And I love for you to be afraid. Fear, my darlings, is what you need to feel. Right now. Before you can fly. Before you can be a butterfly.

You hid it all, didn't you? In a drawer, maybe. Underneath stacks of old bills that your wife, your girlfriend or boyfriend would never look at. A newspaper. Your little secret. It's not so bad, you tell yourself. But it is. And you are. Bad. 

You could have thrown them away. But you didn't. You hid them. Because they are yours. Your cigarettes. Your holder. Your case. They are already a part of you. And you lied to keep them. 

I'm so very proud of you. 

You learned your first lesson. My darling bitch. I forgive you. Because I know that you touched yourself, even though I told you not to.

Because you feel guilty already, and because you will never do it again.

Or so you think.

I know better. I know you.

And I'm going to punish you for it.

Until you scream. And you will. You will scream.

(3) TO BE A BITCH IS TO LOVE YOURSELF

And you are not. Not yet. You are your own mask. Sculpted in years by your parents. By your teachers. Your lovers and friends. To be socially accepted. Be acceptable. That man you are when you sit in your office. That woman you are in the eyes of your boyfriend. It's a mask they have shaped around you. Hardened it into a shell. I will rip if off from you.

There will be pain. I won't lie to you. It will hurt, my darlings.

But I will be with you. I will be your mirror. Look at me.

I will do to me what I want you to do to you. I will hold your hand.

I will be your first cock. And you will be mine.

I will teach you, through the hurt, how to love yourself.

How to truly fuck yourself.

You will need a cock, of course. Buy one. Feel that rush of guilt and excitement again as your bitch steps out once more. Buy it for her. For that glorious glamor whore you will be. 

And remember, darlings. Bigger is better. In everything.

But especially in cocks. 

I already have mine. More than one. I have a collection. So I can choose. It's like choosing a lover. Do it carefully. Do it with thought. Celebrate it when you fuck yourself. This is not masturbation. This is not what you do when your wife or girlfriend is asleep. Short, guilty strokes and half-formed desires, too afraid to moan.

This is your moment. Prepare for it.

(4) TO BE A BITCH IS TO LOVE COCK

Now, you have probably already looked through the web. Oh, there are so many choices, and in time, darlings, in time you will want to use all of them.Just like each real cock is different, makes you feel different, so will the right dildo, vibrator or anal plug.

I prefer them to be inflatable. So they can grow inside me. Become bigger and harder and hit all the right spots. Hmmmm. Like they are moving inside.

It's time for you to drop the mask. To stop hiding.

Get out your little secret. Your cigarettes. And I will do the same. Light them. Now. Feel the same rush you felt when I taught you. Doesn't it make you feel good? Wanted? I'm smoking with you. For you. Snaking my tongue into your mouth. Can you feel it. Exploring?

Hold the dildo in front your mouth. Blow smoke on it. This will be your lover. You will be your own lover. And who could be more worthy for a bitch to fuck than herself? This will be your first fuck. And I will fuck myself with you

Slide the cock against your cunt. Yes, that's right. It's a cunt. Boi or girl. We all have one. Don't be ashamed to say it. 

This is my cunt.

Can you feel your muscles shiver in anticipation? Mine are. Closing. Opening. Feeling the ripped cock against it. My boi bitch cunt. Oh, yes. That's what it feels like to be a bitch. My mouth is filled with smoke. Yours should be, too. Breathe in your own decadence. It will relax you. And you will need to be relaxed. 

Slide on top of the cock. Slowly. Do it the way I do it. Slowly sliding down on it. Into your cunt. Into mine. Watch me. And see how you look right now. 

All the way down. And stop. Don't move. Feel it filling you. Remember this moment. There will be so many more. But this is your first time. This is what you should remember. This moment. With me.

Now spread your legs. Can you feel it move? 

How it makes your own cock harder?

That's right, bitch. You have never been this hard, have you?.

Smoke with me. And feel it. How it all connects. Inside your body. From your mouth to your lungs. From your cunt to your cock. It feels warm, doesn't it?

Silde yourself up and down. This is one of my most favorite things. What I focus on, in those first moments of fucking myself. Just my cunt. Until that feeling spreads. Into my legs. And into my nipples. Making them hard. Pinch them. That's right. There's so much pleasure in pain. Into my cock. And then reaches my fingertips. As they slide to the tip of my cock. Taking that first drop of pre-cum and putting it on the tip of my tongue. It tastes so good, doesn't it?

Stroke yourself for me. For yourself. While you fuck yourself. While your cunt is filled with cock. You want to cum for me, don't you? Want to show me what a bitch you have become?

Do it. Fuck yourself. Don't hold back. Cum for me. Cum for yourself.

I am right now. Because you are my bitch, and I love you.

I want you to love yourself.

I want you to fuck yourself. And say it. Scream it! I am! I am screaming with you! Scream with me!

I am a cock whore!

Yes, like that. I am a whore. Hmmmm. A whore for cock. Feeling your cock tighten. The pleasure from your cunt pushing into it, an electrical current that takes control of you, that is everywhere. Now and forever.

Cum!

Yes, like that. Like me. I am doing this for you. 

I'm cumming with you. For you, my darling whore. Feel it. Cum for me, bitch! Feel your cum rushing out of you.

Hmmmm. Like I can feel mine. Thick ropes that gush out! White and glisterning and beautiful. In my hand. And on my fingers. Oh god, yes! Taste it. Hmmm. Taste yourself. Put it on your tongue. Hmmm. You are your own lover. Taste yourself. I love to taste myself. 

Leave the cock inside you. You have time. Feel how you glow. How the sweat runs down your skin. Smoke. Feel it shift inside you, from the rush to calm. Stay there. Stay with me. That's what it is like. To love yourself. To fuck yourself. To be a bitch.

I'm a bitch. And so are you.

You are not alone.

I will be with you, my darling bois. 

Through each lesson learned. And each step of the way.

Until you are ready to come out to the world.



How To Be A Boi Bitch Lesson 03



Did you enjoy our first fuck together, my darling bois? I know I did. I'm still thinking about it. Are you? Of course you are. And with that excitement, still, such shame. Making your cheeks burn. Making it difficult to look into your wife's eyes. To meet your girlfriend's gaze. You are no longer afraid.

You are ashamed.

Of what you are becoming. Of her finding out. That what you are afraid of to be. A sissy. Less than a man. Never to be a woman. That's why you have put all of our toys away. All of what I have gifted you. Buried it in your closet.

Oh, my darling bitch. You still have so much to learn.

Do you honestly think you would be worth my time if all you were able to become is a sissy? Do you think I would have fucked myself for you, stroked my cock for you, if all you would want to aspire to is to be humiliated into becoming a bizarro copy of a woman?

I love women. I would never dishonor them like that.

A bitch, my darlings, a boi bitch like me, like you are going to be, struts the line between male and female.

Proudly and without shame.

A sissy gets dragged across it, often kicking and screaming.

Chained and collared.

Don't get me wrong, my darlings, I have done it to them. And I have enjoyed it. I have had them worship my cock and had them gag on it. Fucked their asses and bred them. They can be fun when you want to hurt someone. They beg for it. And on some occasions, I have been more than happy to oblige. Sissies make good slaves, until you tire of them. And you will.

They lack the decadence and sophistication of women.

They lack the rough caress of a man.

They are toys. To be played with. To be broken. To be used and abused. I have used them to wipe my cunt on them. To feed my cum to them. I have pissed in their mouths. And spat on their faces. They have been my ashtrays. And my footstools.

And still they begged for more.

Does that shock you, darlings? Don't be. You will get there. And enjoy the heights of depravities you can't imagine just yet. When you are me.

Do you honestly think I would teach you, if a sissy were all you want to be?

No, my darlings. Do not offend me.

I know you can be so much more.

Let me tell you how.

(5) TO BE A BITCH IS TO HAVE CLAWS

It's so much more difficult to hide her now, is it? The bitch inside. It was still easy when I started you on this journey, wasn't it? When all you had to hide were the cigarettes, the holder and the case. That is why I started with them. Why they were the first of my claws I hooked into your soul.

Now, you have to hide your bitch's cock you bought as well. And that requires so much more, doesn't it? Cannot put that in a drawer, can you? Where did you hide it? From your wife? Your girlfriend?

When I was still you, I put them in a box. And put the box under my clothes. At the very bottom of my closet. I called it my bitch box. I put the bitch inside it while I was with my girlfriend. I loved my girlfriend. I didn't want to hurt her.

But I could feel her inside me. Could hear her scratch against the insides of that box. Could hear her whisper. And all of the promises she made. The bitch I was going to be. What beautiful promises, in a throaty voice that was my own, only stronger. Oh, how stronger that voice became. Every day.

You cannot put your soul into a box, my darlings.

It will roar in anger. It will roar in pain. And in lust.

And don't lie to me, my darlings.

You got it out again, your soul since our last lesson, haven't you?

Just to look at it, you told yourself. Just to make sure your girlfriend, your wife hasn't seen what is inside. That box. And inside you.

But it wasn't enough, was it?

No, it wasn't. I wish you could hear me laugh, my darlings. Do you know why I taught you to smoke? Why I told you about the glamor of it? Why I had you fill your lungs with it as we both fucked ourselves?

I wanted you to think about it. Feel it. Every time you see a cigarette. And you have. You looked at them. Craved them. Just one more time, you told yourself. To feel it between your lips. and you did. Couldn't stop yourself. Smoking.

When nobody but you was home.

And with that smoke, you looked at your bitch's cock.

Inside your box.

How many times, my darlings? How many times have you fucked yourself with it again since our last lesson? Once? Twice? More than that, wasn't it? You let her out. You let her roar. That bitch. Let her scream. As you pushed that cock into your cunt again. As you became a cock whore. Again. And again. You screamed it. Creamed it. Wanted it. Are becoming it. That whore you always dreamed you would be. The whore I know you can be.

And with each time your cock gushed cum, the box became bigger. And harder to hide. Yes. 

I planned it. 

I planted the seed. In your soul. 

But you let it grow.

And now you cannot hide it as easily anymore.

But you can still hide it. As I lead you down another step on your path.

The third thing for a bitch to have is her claws. A bitch must have claws. They will define you, my darlings. And they are easy to obtain. And still easy to hide. 

We don't want the wife, the girlfriend to know, do we?

Not just yet.

Your fingernails are your claws.

I want you to grow them out a little. Make them more pointed. Just a little. Just enough so that the next time you fuck your girlfriend, she can feel you scratch her the way she scratches you. It will prepare her for what is to come. And we want her to be prepared. As best as we can, don't we, my darlings?

And then I want you to paint them.

In the most flamboyant way you can think of.

Now, I have always been an Urban Decay boi. Their colors are glam. As of late I have been fascinated with NYX and Dior as well when I unsheath my claws. Choose your colors carefully, my darlings. They must belong on a boi bitch's claws, and not necessarily on a woman's. Remember that. 

I am not here to teach you how to become a woman.

I'm here to teach you how to become a bitch.

And the next time you let her out, and you know you will, you are already wishing that time was now, you will take even more time to celebrate.

When you crave that cigarette. When you crave that cock in your cunt. When you cannot resist the bitch taking you over, letting her control you. When you no longer can cage her inside that box in your closet.

I want you to take that time.

And paint your claws.

Show them to yourself. As they hold your cock. Gripping it. While your cunt is full. So fucking full. And you have learned now, haven't you? Without me. On your own. How to find the right spot. How big that cock in your cunt has to be. Where it has to go. To make you full. To make whole. 

To make you a whore.

Look at them. They are yours. In metallic colors. They are your strength. Hold them up in front of your eyes. As they hold your smoke. As they roam over your chest. And claw into your nipples. Twisting them. Tugging them. As hard and as ruthless as only a bitch's claws can.

You will cum so hard, my darling whore.

So much harder, even, than before.

I promise you.

And have I lied so far?



How To Be A Boi Bitch Lesson 04



Clothes, my darlings, are very important for a bitch.

Clothes control the cock, after all, and not just your own. It's why I love shopping. Sex and shopping. Shopping for sex. And if you're me, you know that sometimes, on your best days, you can have sex while shopping. I have had some of my best fucks in stores. Tongues that darted into my cunt. Mouths that were wrapped around my cock. Sales sealed with cum and cunt juices dripping on freshly bought leather and lace. On rubber and silk.

Hmmmm. It's heaven, darlings.

Because being a bitch is all about pleasuring yourself.

Abuse cocks. Abuse cunts. Abuse credit cards. As long as you abuse!

Your closet still has so much space, doesn't it? Still enough to hide a few more things. Underneath your gym clothes. You t-shirts. Behind your office shirts. Soon, all these things will be gone. Soon, the bitch will have taken over your closet. And the bitch wants to wear herself. Dress herself in glorious decadence. And finally step out of the closet to be revealed. Worshipped. 

I'm going to dress you up with my love, darlings. 

You've been waiting for this, haven't you?

Cock and claws, you have always known, since you we started, that they would only be the beginning.

They are a bitch's core. Your heart and soul, my darlings.

They are what you reveal to your lover. At the very end.

Unwrapped by layers of luxurious decadence.

(6) TO BE A BITCH IS TO STRUT LIKE A SLUT

Boots! Boots! Boots! Darlings, a bitch wears boots. Leave the Manolos to women! Leave the sneakers to men! Boots make the bitch, and nothing else! And there are so many that thinking about them makes me delirious with lust every single time. Leather and rubber, they are not made for walking, and fuck what the song says. They are made to strut!

The strut that is also an art. That needs to be taught. That needs to be practiced.

And you will practice for me, bitch. Before I allow you to smoke again. Before I allow you to fuck yourself again. That's right, darlings. You will not be allowed to feel a cock in you again before you learned how to strut like a whore. When I was still you, my friend Lesslie made me strut every day for a week. In front of her. In front of our bedroom mirror. It made my cock so hard. Begging her to touch it. For me to touch myself. And not being allowed to. It made me insane. I want you to imagine it. One week.

Starting on the day she and I went shopping. It was a fetish store. Dark and delightful. And filled with so many things that I would use, on myself, on Lesslie and later, my other lovers. That were still waiting for me. But nothing more important that the boots.They lined up against the walls, racked up in shelves that ran in rows and rows across the second floor of the store. Armies that were waiting for their orders. To be worn. To march.

I am you, they whispered to me. Wear me. I will make you complete. All in different voices of leather and steel. Rubber and vinyl. I am you. I am you. I am you. And you will be me.

Your first boots. They are special. I still have mine. I have had them licked. Spat on. Men have spurted their cum on their tips. Women lapped up their own juices from them. I have used their high heels to fuck asses and cunts. I respect them. Worship them. And want them to be worshipped. Because when I wore them openly for the first time, everybody knew a bitch had just entered the room.

The strut makes you different from anyone else. It perfects your posture. The heels lift your ass and shift your weight, so that it sways just the right amount when you put one foot before the other. I personally prefer knee-highs these days. Devious Shoes are my favorites. They have 8 inches that force a very rigid posture on you. A dominant bitch's posture. I wear them to fuck.

But being a bitch is not all about the fuck. It's also about the tease.

It's about walking tall. And walking strong.

And have all the filthy thoughts you have suppressed so far.

Oh, my darlings. There are just so many to choose from. Pick your perversion. And make it expensive.

Because a bitch is expensive. A bitch deserves to be expensive.

It's why you will be worshipped.

Pleasure, my darlings, can still be kept in a box.

Small enough for your girlfriend not to find it.

Together with all your other ingredients that I have gifted you.

Have no fear.

Buy boots, my darlings. And learn how to use them. Watch yourself in the mirror as you take your first steps. As I teach you to walk. Into your new life. Do it naked. 

Watch yourself. Watch that bitch. How hard your cock will be, my darlings. Watch how you raise your ass. And turn around. Present it to your mirror. Present it to me. Isn't it beautiful? Put your hands on your cheeks. Spread them. And flex your muscles. Do you see how your boi cunt opens and closes? 

How it wishes to be filled right now? By me? By anyone? 

Put your finger in it for me. Slide it in. Yes, like that. Are you moaning? Hissing? Begging? Do you want more? Not yet, my darlings. Not just yet. 

Get that finger out again. And put it to your mouth. Lick it. Taste it. This is what I will taste when I slide my tongue into you. I can taste it already. But not yet. 

The boots, my darlings. These boots are made for walking. Walk them. You will not be allowed anything else before you know how. Walk them. Like a whore.

And once you have, I want you to wear them.

The next time you smoke. The next time you fuck yourself. Raise up your legs high.

So you can see them.

As you plunge that cock into yourself. Harder than before. 

For me. For you. For the glory of us all.

All of us bitches everywhere.



How To Be A Boi Bitch Lesson 05



By now, my darlings, you must be craving it. Every single day. Cock. And you have been looking at the world differently. Looking at men. At how their asses fill out their jeans. Their pants. How much of them is covered up. How much you want to tear it off. That piece of cloth. And see those shapes, freed up and yours for the taking. When you and your wife, you and your girlfriend are at the mall. When you are going for dinner, that's all you can think of. All you want in your mouth. And in your cunt. All you need. All you care about.

Cock.

You are a slave for it now.

You would do anything for it, wouldn't you? Anything at all. You dream about it. Fantasise about it. Losing yourself in delightfully delirious delusions. It's all that matters. I know how it feels, my darlings. To lose it all. To lose yourself. In these moments. In that glory. When you are pushing your wife, your girlfriend away. When you feel she wouldn't understand. Feel that she is no longer enough. That you want more. That you deserve more.

That you deserve cock. And that cock is all you deserve.

You have lost control, my darlings. Just like I did when i was still you.

(7) TO BE A BITCH IS TO BE IN CONTROL

I couldn't wait for my girlfriend to leave. Couldn't wait for me to be alone. To celebrate the whore. I was no longer myself, but not yet who I was going to be. And it didn't matter. Cock. It was all that mattered. To fly this high. To stay there. Oh, I wished I could stay there forever. Riding high. Riding on my bitch's cock. On the three, in fact, that I owned by then. One cock is not enough, my darlings. It is never enough for a bitch. We need variety. Diversity. Black and white. Big and thick. Cock. It's like discovering that there is double chocolate ice cream after all you have been fed throughout your life is vanilla. You never want to go back to it. Vanilla. How little flavor it now has. How little it excites you.

During those times when you make love to your girlfriend. When she opened up to you, for you, when her cunt was wet and willing. For your tongue to probe it. Her fingers reaching out to tousle your hair. To draw you further in. Between her legs. Forcing you to taste her soul, to love her. Like she loves you. When all you are thinking about is me. 

That's right, my darlings. I know you are. You are mine. Body and soul. That cock you want is mine. And your girlfriend in front of you is a fading photograph. Memories of times that have passed. Memories of when you were but a man and not yet a boi. Her cunt, offered with so much love tastes like waxed paper to you. Like vanilla.

You want to be my slave, darling? Is this your place? Where you wish to be?

Then kneel for me, bitch.

In your mind. In that room inside you. That you are now in. While your girlfriend kisses you, while your wife's fingers travel up your spine. While your cock slowly enters her. While you are in her. 

All this time.

All this time, I am in you. We are together in this room. 

While you are fucking her. To hold onto what your life used to be. Feeling it slip away, drenched in her cunt juice.

Can you hear me enter? That deliberate clicking sound as I put one of my booted feet in front of the other? They are your heartbeat, my darlings. That's all you focus on. What you are afraid of. What you desire. While you are on your knees. Inside your mind. Waiting for me.

I'm coming for you. Unlocking that door. Look up. Look at who you let in.

Look at me, my darling cock whore. As I enter your mind. 

Look at me. I am your future, and you are my past.

Raise up your head to worship.

I'm wearing them, of course. Because I want you to run your tongue across their tips. Open your mouth. Don't look up. These are the boots of the holy whore. This is your goddess and your god. This is me, for you. Your body still belongs to your wife, your girlfriend. But they are far away. In the same bed as you. But far away. Touches that barely reach you.

You are with me, bitch. Your mind is mine. And I'm going to fuck it.

Can you feel my claws caress your cheek? Is it me? Or is it your girlfriend?

Does it matter?

Can you feel how I lift up your chin? Force you to look at me? As your eyes wander up my thighs, white marble skin wrapped in shiny black. 

I'm all dressed up for you. To show you what you will be. Look at them. The rubber stockings that flow up from the boots and up my thighs? Touch them. Can you feel how soft they are beneath your fingertips? Can you feel my blood rushing? That pulse in my thigh when you touched it?

You can hear your wife moaning, your girlfriend hissing. From far away. Don't listen. 

Listen to me. I am in control of you.

Let your eyes wander up. Let your fingers follow. Up my tights. To my cock. It's hard for you. You did this. Aren't you proud? That it was you? That my clawed fingers are stroking it for you? Right in front of your face. So close. You want to taste it, don't you? You've been wondering since the beginning how I would taste. Let me run it over your lips. Yes. Just like that. Its tip sliding across your mouth. With you opening it. Begging for it. Wanting more. More than that one, clear drop the binds us together, through the air, a string between me and you, a chain of perfect pre-cum.

She can feel it, you know? Your wife. Your girlfriend. That you have changed. 

That I'm inside you. That you are becoming me. Submitting to me. 

Scratch you claws across her back. Hurt her. That is why I demanded you to grow out your nails. To do this. To hurt her good. Let me watch you hurt her just enough for her to open her eyes. To open her mouth to a groan of lustful pain. Look into her eyes. That's not vanilla you see. Your girlfriend, your wife. She has been waiting for you. Waiting for this. For you to become more than you were.

Taste her. Your mouth opening to her tongue, now no longer sweet and tender, but rough and demanding.

That's not vanilla you taste.

And now make her look into your eyes. Into the darkness that are your pupils, dilated and wide and now a window to your soul.

She can see me there. With you. In your mind. Seeing you on the floor, naked and shivering. Your ass raised high for me. How I taught you to present yourself. Your hands spreading your cheeks for me. As I slowly rub my cock up and down between them. Patiently. Hard. Even as your own cock is getting thicker, touching your wife all inside her cunt, she sees me. In your eyes. In your soul.

Behind you. Slowly breaking you in. Feel it. It's just the tip of my cock. Slowly being swallowed up by you. Through the rings of your boi cunt. This is how she feels. Your wife. Right before you enter her. This is what I want you to understand. Understand her. Before I slowly slide into you. This is not a dildo, my darling boi. This is me. Inside you. Your cunt. Your mind.

Wrap yourself around me. Suck me into you. Work your muscles, darlings. You have prepared for this. 

I can feel her now, you know? Through you. Your cock. And through your cunt. Her lust travels through you. And into my cock. Into me.

We're both fucking her now. As your cock pushes deeper into her. and mine into yours.

She can see it. That you are more now.

That you are both now cock whores.

My cock whores.

I love how tight you still are, my darling. How much your boi cunt is flexing. I will cum in you. I will breed you with my filth. With my fantasies. That will leak out of you. That will fill you. Until you overflow. Lean down to your wife. Kiss her. Tongue scraping against lips. Against teeth. Finally finding her tongue.

While I am fucking your mind.

Tell her. Tell her now. That you love her. Because you do. Because she is not vanilla.

And neither are you. 

I'm cumming with you both, my darling.

My cum flows through your cunt as yours flows through hers.

Whisper it. Tell her.

"I want to be your whore, my darling."

Tell her quietly. Still trying to catch your breath. As your hand reaches out for hers. And your fingers find each other. Holding each other tight. Tell her again, tell her that you want to be her whore. And that you want her to be yours. Forever.

And kiss her. Softly. While I wipe off my soiled cock in your mind. And fill it with the decadence of my cum.

And then show it to her. The cigarette case. The cigarettes. Tell her you need to smoke now. 

She will ask you, of course. She will wonder. She will remember the smells. She will wonder why you smoke now. And have not before. Take out the cigarette. While you lie next to her. And don't lie. Light it. Feel it rush through you. And smile. And tell her the truth.

That you have never been fucked like this before. That she is the love of your life. And you are hers.

And that this is yourself rewarding for it.

And that there will be so much more to come. So much beauty. And happiness.So much you want to explore with her.

She will ask you, of course. More questions. On who gave the cigarettes to you. Who turned you onto it. What made you change.

Tell her it was a friend. For that is what I am. I am not her enemy. I am your friend.

And you are my bitch.



How To Be A Boi Bitch Lesson 06



You haven't been thinking about me all that much, have you?

Since you and me fucked your wife, your girlfriend together. And in the beautiful glow of you two, lying together in your bed, you felt such peace. Maybe this was all you needed. To get the bitch out of your system. To get me out of your mind. Did you beg god for it? In that one moment? When I slid my cock out of your mind. To leave you empty. And satisfied. Did you beg god that this may be over?

You love women. You love your girlfriend. You love your wife.

All of this was just a fantasy, wasn't it? Dear god, you have it finally out of your system. A cock is no longer as appealing. There is no frenzy anymore. This is you. Without that desire. You are not gay. You love cunt. Filthy, decadent, squirting and gushing cunt! You love to drink from it. Let it wash over you. This is your well of perversion. You let it quench your thirst.

You will never need another.

You are not gay.

But I'm still here, aren't I? I may have left your mind for a little while, but I'm still here.

And I was watching you. Even after I had my nails in you, scratching you, fucking you.

I was watching you talk to your wife. I watched you smoke. She asked for a cigarette herself, didn't she, my darlings? After all, such a fuck deserved one. And let me tell you a secret about your wife, your girlfriend, my darling bois.

Most of them have smoked before.

Most of them enjoy it. They have given it up for you, perhaps, for their health, more likely, but mostly, because they didn't have anybody to smoke with. Women love to smoke with others. It's a fact, my darlings. But now she has you. I watched you smoke together, and darlings, to smoke after the fuck is so good, you'll just want to fuck again and again to have that. Didn't she look beautiful? Little drops of sweat between her breasts. On her forehead. Her nipples still erect. Her breath still ragged. Drawing in that first rag. Ember tips in twilight, glowing, then exhaling from her lips. Didn't she look like a goddess?

I watched as you talked. 

How she liked that you want her to be your whore. And how proud of you she is that you want to be hers.

And in the emptiness of your mind, that thought, you are not gay.

But then again, I never said you were, did I?

I said you were a bitch.

And you are.

Now, I love gay men. Love, love, love them! I love them shaved and I love them sweaty. I love them with muscles and I love them skinny. I love how willingly they give up their asses and how eager they are to suck my bitch cock. I love how they fuck my cunt and how I fuck their asses.

That's right, darlings. There is a difference. A gay man's ass is like him. Rougher than a boi bitch's cunt. They are not like you and me. They are men, and I treat them like that. Even when I kneel behind them, on my knees as they are pushed against a wall, while I eat their unwashed taste from their ass, sweat and dirt from work or work-out that pooled between the cracks, scooping it up with my tongue. And if you haven't tried it, oh darlings, you don't know how good it tastes when they are dirty. You will want them to be dirty. You will want their cocks uncut and their faces with just the right amount of stubble. Their chests bulging with muscle as your stroke them from behind. Their thighs twitching as your tongue rolls around their cocks, swishing and twirling.

But I never forget what they are, first and foremost. Men. 

And we are not. 

We are in perfect balance, my darlings.

We are a our own gender. 

We are our own Hail Mary. 

Free from definition, we shape ourselves.

It's what makes us bitches.

It's why I wanted you to feel your wife, your girlfriend's cunt tightening around your cock. I wanted you to remember. Why you loved her. Why you love women. As you licked the sweat away from her nipples and she arched her back to meet your teeth. As she begged for you to be rougher, to hurt her, to fuck her, to be a man, her man.

As her finger travelled up from the base of your cock, along that line that makes you shudder, even now, just thinking about it. 

As she met you with her soft, wet flesh.

Women. I love them. I love how their bodies are shaped, all curves and no angles. How their breasts rise up, like a constant invitation for you to be close. I love how their soft voices make every whispered thought of decadence a poem. And every moan a filthy prayer, filled with curse words that betray them. Betray that they are bitches, too.

I wanted you to know, to feel all this, because I love you, my darlings.

Because I am not here to break you.

I am here to lift you higher.

Have you talked about it? Her fantasies? And yours? As she smoked with you? Has she told you hers? Now that she trusts you more than ever before? Were you shocked? Darlings, a woman's fantasies are so much filthier than a man's. In their minds, they have fucked their teachers. Been slaves to black cocks breeding them as they are trapped in a loveless marriage. Bitten and bled by vampires and raped in the most delightful ways, like dogs in heat, by werewolves. And they loved it all. As long as they were loved by them all. Their lovers. There's nothing a woman doesn't dream of. As long as she knows, can be certain, without a doubt in her mind, that she is loved. 

They just never let them out, these secrets. Like you, they are so afraid to be looked down upon. To be scorned. To be ridiculed.

And yes, men did it to them. Told them. Berated them. Showed them their place. And looked down on.

A man fucking around is a stud. Beloved. Adored. Pat on the back by his friends over beer. Yeah, fuck yeah, I tapped that. And this. And that, too. A woman? A woman is a slut. A whore. A tramp. A bitch.

She is all that what we are.

And that is what I want you to know. 

And why I want you to show your wife, your girlfriend more respect than ever before.

(8) TO BE A BITCH IS TO SHOW RESPECT

Of course that is not the only reason. I didn't want to her to know about us. You and me. And what I am teaching you. 

And she had become just a little bit too suspicious, hadn't she?

As you sulked when you were with her. As you hoped to be alone with me.

My darling, silly boi. My lovely bitch. I know how close you were to ruining it all. To be too careless. To have her find us in your study, in your living room. Booted up, naked and smoking, with me beside you whispering in your ear. Like I am now. As your fingers became mine. As it took you longer and longer to prepare for you to fuck yourself. As all of what I have gifted you became your foreplay. Slow and drawn out, with your cock staying hard and dripping pre-cum, like a woman's cunt dripping the sweetest juices. Long before your cock enters it. Because each time, you put more care into it. With each time, the whore wanted it to be more. And longer. 

Do you understand now? What it's like for a girl? For a woman?

Why they long for so much more than a rough kiss? And a quick thrust of the cock? 

It is that feeling. That has been building inside you. That made you arrange all of my gifts in front of you. That made you lace up your boots so very slowly. Revelling in each moment. Each twist and turn of the laces as they went through their steel rings. Higher and higher. And with each tug, the boot clamped down on your flesh. Shaped your leg. Entrapped your feet. Tighter and tighter, until they fit around you like a second skin made of leather.

It's why your heart beat faster every time when you thought about how to give your claws a new colour. Oh, what colour to wear. What will look the best when I wrap them around my cock? What would compliment the colour of my cum? So I can see it? Worship it? Before my tongue laps it up? With your bottles – and I know you bought yourself more than one, my darlings – of nail varnish laid out like a buffet, from which to drink in the whore. Shaking them, one by one. Opening up the caps. And let their sweet, strong smell drift up into your face. So much choice. So many wonders.

That's what it is for them, my darling bois.

For women.

Men call it foreplay. Women will tell you it's a celebration of their divinity.

And they are right. You know that now, don't you?

Because you have done it to yourself. As you celebrated more than the bitch's cock inside you. You celebrated everything. All that came before that moment. That sweet, sweet moment. And you found out, didn't you? That the longer you waited, the wetter your own boi cunt became. That you wanted it to last longer. That your constantly hard cock was almost as good as the cum itself.

Waiting for it. Waiting for it. Until, finally, the animal inside roared free, and lust took over, blinding you to everything around you.

Yes. You became careless. And one day, one day too soon, this is what your wife, your girlfriend would have found. While you took your sweet time. While your fucked yourself with me. As I fucked myself with you. When you had forgotten all about the time, caught up in yourself. Lost in me. 

This is how she would have seen the bitch emerge for the first time.

Do you now know why I couldn't let that happen?

I will not break your wife's heart, I will not soil your girlfriend's soul.

I didn't want her to see you like this. Your booted legs raised high. Your fingers plunging a bitch's cock into your cunt. Ad you screaming in my voice that you are a a cock whore, even though you are. How would she have felt? Humiliated. Broken. Angry. That is not how you introduce the bitch to her. 

Show her respect, my darlings. Show your respect to your wife, your girlfriend.

And let them discover the bitch inside you as she slowly unfolds in front of them. As the bitch inside you gives them respect.

So that you continue this journey together with me.

As I transform you both into the most glamorous cock whores.

That's right, my darling bois.

She will join you on that journey.

She was waiting for it.

Waiting for you. 

While you were waiting for me.



How To Be A Boi Bitch Lesson 07



You understand now, don't you? 

That to be a bitch is not all about the fuck.

Even if the fuck is everything, my darlings. But remember, patience makes the bitch. And you will need to be. Patient. which is something that straight men are too lazy, too intellectually fat to understand. Why a whore shouldn't respect them. They are not cocks, just dicks. So many of them I have seen. So many I have met. When they were married. When courtship was over. And their asses started to bulge in most revolting ways, first in their jeans, then in sweat pants. With big bellies full of beer, and fridges full of fast food. and without eyes, without thought for their wives, for their girlfriends.

Without respecting them. And without respect for themselves.

Fat, lazy slobs who ogle the secretary, their cocks shrivelled up too much to be of any use to anybody. And secure in their deluson that every woman spreads her legs just as much as they spread open their wallets. To buy themselves those quick five minutes, panting over the copier machine, having one of their assistants being very personal for just the right number of gifts, the higher salary. Assistants who are not whores, but hookers in everything but name, hustling for a better position as their boss spurts empty seed into them.

You are not one of these men. Not anymore. Not since you have tasted the glory of your boi bitch inside of you. You now know how much will be awaiting your inner whore, but now I will teach you that you'll have to work at it. That it takes you all of your dedication, all of your devotion, all of your soul.

(9) TO BE A BITCH IS TO MARK YOUR TERRITORY

Make-up. Lipstick. Clothes. Jewellery. Dressing. Strutting. All of these things have taken your wife, your girlfriend years to perfect. They perfected them not only for themselves but also for you. Have you ever respected that, my darlings? The hours of painful waxing? The weeks of practice it took them to perfect their eye shadow? To paint their lips? The look they gave you when you first met? Half-open eyes in colours and blacks that promised you so much? The bodies that rose up underneath the tight skirts? How much work went into all of that?

And what have you done? How little did you have to work at yourself? As a straight man. Is it any wonder that women find you lazy? Selfish? When your shopping has consisted of little more than The Gap. Khakis and polo shirts. Boxers of briefs. Socks and sneakers. This is what fills your closet. Look at these sad excuses for clothing that you wrap yourself in, shapeless sacks of linen and cotton. Easy to wear, never easy on the eyes.

Look at them, bitch!

Look at them with my eyes. With the eyes of your wife. This is the filth you have turned into. This is how you let yourself go! If clothes make the man, what kind of a man have you become?

This is what is still pushing the bitch inside you into that little box, hidden and closed up. Burning inside. 

I will burn that straight face away from you, my darlings.

Open up your closet with me. Let me stand behind you. The ghost of your future. Let me undress you. I want you to be naked for this. I want you to become born. Born again. Feel how my hands open you up. Your shirt. My hands travel underneath it. Up to your chest. Do it with me. Touch yourself as you undress. As fingers slide into your boxers, which have been far too loosely wrapped around your ass, Your wife, your girlfriend, they love your ass. So do I. And you hide it. Let me pull them down. Free you. From what you were. I a closet now longer closed. Surrounded by what will soon be only memories. Bad dreams from another life.

Hm. Let me scratch the base of your cock. Let me feel it twitch. Yes. Like that. Let your hands become mine. Be naked. Be truthful to what you will be. And say it as your hands grip yourself. Say it with opened eyes.

"This no longer me."

That slob who lives in your closet. You hate him, don't you? He has taken up so much space, so much of your life, has eaten away at your soul. You hate him, and so do I. We should punish him, my darlings. Punish him for what he did to us. For encasing us. Limiting us. This is what I did when i was still you. And now, I want you to do it with me.

Stroke your cock with me. And look at your past. To which you will never go back. Now that you know. With what this closet should be filled. No longer hidden. No longer pushed aside. By that slob in his clothes. 

I want you to soil him with me. Hm. Yes. Darlings. That is what he deserves. That pathetic excuse of a man you once were. Let me slide my finger into your cunt. While you look at him. stroke yourself harder, my darling bitch. Show him what you think of him.

Cum on the clothes that have entrapped you. 

While I am massaging your cunt. Say it with me.

"This is no longer me."

I want you to cum. I want you to cum in anger. And squirt all your bitch seed over him. His clothes. His socks. His sneakers and shirts. Spray them in fury. Like I do. Feel it rise up inside you. Boiling. Burning. And release it. Now. Cum.

Does it hurt? Good. I want it to hurt. I want it to be furious. 

As you spray your clothes, your past with your bitch cum.

Doesn't it feel good? Oh, yes. I know it does. I have done it. And now, so have you.

I can hear you pant, my darlings. To release it like that, you have never felt this alive, have you? 

But we are not done. Not while you are still stroking your cock. Now wet and softening. And feeling what it does after a good cum. Slide your fist around it. And don't fight that feeling. Use it. Worship it. 

Release it again. Your piss. Yes. I want you to piss. Doesn't it make you feel strong? Powerful? Sexy? Some day, some day soon, you will be doing this to your lover. I wish it could be me. Some day, you pissing will be an act of delight. An act of love. An act of the most decadent depravity. When you do it to a slave. A sissy. Or a man or woman who worships you. 

But not today.

Today you do it to mark your territory.

Piss on it. Piss on your own past. Already soiled. But I want you to show me, to show yourself how little that slob in your closet is worth. Nothing, my darlings. He is worth nothing. Wouldn't even be worthy to be the slave of your bitch cock. To see him leave will be a relief. Relieve yourself. All over him.

Because that closet then will be all yours.

And that's where we will start next time. The next lesson.

In your closet.

By dressing you up again.

Step by step.

You'll be such a doll, my darling.



How To Be A Boi Bitch Lesson 08



I already told you this before, my darlings, but it bears repeating. And remembering. Always. Clothes control the cock. And it's time for me to show it to you. And you've already waited for it so long, haven't you? Silk! Satin! Lace! Leather! Rubber! Vinyl! Fur! And while I prefer leather, vinyl of rubber for boots, the rest of my body wants everything!

And that is the problem, my darlings.

You cannot have everything. Not at the same time. It's gluttony. Your ensembles have to be carefully chosen. And while your style may vary, only sissies storm into the nearest women's department store and scarf down panties and bras, stockings and straps. They cannot control themselves, even there. Especially there. Leaking sissy clits the moment they see something that triggers that desire to be submissive. Because that's how deep down they see women. That's how they want to be. Submissive. Slaves. They collect their panties and soil them. Sniff them. Eat them. Lick up their own cum, left from furious masturbation and delightfully dirty delusions.

For a bitch, my darlings, especially for the boi bitch, each ensemble is a sign of dominance.

They are not necessarily feminine, but always glamorous.

And you will have to grow into them, as they become your new skin. Soft and silky. Hardened and rubberised. Just like boots encase your feet and your calves, the rest of your ensemble encases your soul. Over time, you will find your own style. As you become your own dress up doll. Changing your image. Refining it. Feeling it seep into you. As you seep into it. Until you and your clothes become one.

Right now, however, you are just about to make the first steps. And they will be baby steps.

Expanding slowly into your new world.

And that is why we will start with the basics.

And for a gothic boi bitch, the basics consist of what, my darlings?

The suit. That's right. We'll leave the skirts to women (until we are completely comfortable or go to a fetish ball), and if I ever see you in a sunflower dress, my darlings, you won't need to worry about your wife or girlfriend. You'll have to worry about me. I will claw your eyes out.

The suit is versatile. Wearable. And can be glamorous. If it is the right suit. I'm not talking about the unassuming pieces of cloth that they make your wear in your office, suspenders that hold your pants up, garish striped shirts that rape the eye.

I'm talking about a suit made for femme bois.

My own basic suit is what is known as a Gothic Corporate Business Suit. I bought it at Dracinabox. Google it. Find it. Love it like I do. And while it is made for a woman and comes with a gorgeously cut skit that has slits to show off my calves and legs all the way up to the shape of my ass, I can also combine it with pants and overcoats, depending on my mood and what I side of me I want to show off.

PVC bondage pants! Love, love, love them! The tighter, the better. Straps of leather that bind my thighs, while boots bind my feet. And if I am going out, you can never go wrong with a Crow style fetish t-shirt that makes your upper body look like it's been sculpted in rubber.

Corsets and waist cinches are a must as well. They control my breathing, my hunger, while constantly fuelling my desire. Constricted, restricted, free. They make my breath shallow, each one sucking in just enough. And when I smoke, the density of smoke versus oxygen makes everything so much more potent. Makes every exhale thick and white and beautiful as it leaves me, undiluted by air. Making men watch me. And women wanting to be me.

But you are not there yet. Just thinking about these things make you nervous. Excited, yes, but nervous as well. Thinking about them lets the energy travel from your mind, through your heart and into your cock.

You are not there yet. You will be soon. Very soon, my darlings. I promise.

But first we have to expand your heart and soul.

While we get your waistline down. Inch by inch.

Because everything about a bitch is tight, my darlings. Our cunts are. Our bodies must be as well.

And that is why you will start to work out. Before you will go shopping. You will watch what you eat. Just like your wife, you girlfriend do. Because to be a bitch doesn't come for free. There's a price to be paid, my darlings. And if Winston Churchill said that the price of freedom is eternal vigilance, well... the price of becoming a bitch is eternal vigilance as well.

And don't you complain. It's what women do. Every day. Since they turned from pig-tailed annoyances of our youth into the cat-like and catty creatures you have prowled. Did you think it was easy for them? Looking at fashion magazines. And desiring to be like those glam girls that you panted over when you were still straight?

Calories counted. Coming into their own. 

For your cock. 

And all the cock that preceded yours.

And those you will share in the future.

You will join a gym. And not to bulge up. To slim down. In all the right places. Oh, don't make such a sour face, my darling. Think about how much fun a gym will be! If it's the right gym. If it is filled with bulky, sweaty men. Biceps and triceps bulging in front of you as you are on your treadmill. Running, so you can finally strut. Make it a real man's gym. That's how I did it. Torturing myself in more ways than one. Watching their shaved heads. Their short shorts, rolling up just the right amount as they did their reps. Sweat and curses. Smells that will overpower you. And make you delirious with lust. Quick glances to those spots of their bodies that I wanted. Craved. While they moaned. As their muscles unloaded their energy. Thrust weights up into the air with raw power. Watching them will be so much fun, my darlings.

It will train you, in more ways than one.

As you lose the fat. As you become tighter. Your ass muscles flexing, your calves shaping up.

And while you squirt water from your bottle into your mouth.

Wishing it was their cum. All of those men around you. I dreamed about it. Day dreams in delirium. How they would circle around me. How their cocks would all be mine. My fingers stroking them. Their sweat, now belonging to me. Their muscles twitching because of me. As I went through them. Taking them all. One by one. In my mouth. Waiting their turn. To fill it. To spray their cum into it. And on my face. And my body.

Oh, darlings, I love them to cum on my face. I love how it drips down from my skin. My cheeks and down my neck. I love how it sticks to me. Black and white. It doesn't matter. As long as the cum is strong and salty and mine.

That's what I want you to think of. That's what I want you to know.

If a bitch is tight, their cocks will come to you.

Sooner or later.

And once you are in shape, we will go shopping for you.

(9) TO BE A BITCH IS TO DRESS FOR SUCCESS

And now, the suit. I want you to find yourself a glamorous one. A tight one. Preferably cut in a 1920s or 1930s style. Black or pinstripe. Nothing else. A white shirt to go with it. Not a normal shirt, my darlings. A tuxedo shirt. Since this will be your first ensemble, darlings, your choice is my choice. You still belong to me, my darling. And I want you to look gorgeous. For me. For yourself. For all the men you will fuck. And for your wife, your girlfriend.

Because you will date her again.

All of what I have told you to do means nothing if she isn't part of you. And what you are becoming. I want her to be as free as you will be. Free of her chains. And her own cage. That she has been in for a much longer time than you were.

While you are working on yourself, working out, a work in progress, do not neglect her. Or I will cut off your balls, my darlings. Skin them right out of you, so they drop into my palm.

You are not having an affair. Not with me, not with anybody else. You are not a cheater. And she must be certain of it. For only then will she join you. Enjoy you. As you join me on your journey.

I want you to leave her messages. Little things. Notes on the fridge. Telling her how much you'll miss her during the day. Have flowers delivered to her office. It's the little things that matter. It's the little things that will let her know you are hers, and she is yours. I told you before that there is nothing that a woman cannot dream of, as long as she is secure in that love. And share with her. Passion. And fantasies. Tell her why you started to work on yourself. How much of a lazy slob you were. And how much better you'll want to look. For yourself. For her.

Romance her. You remember how it felt when you first did, don't you? When that man you once were met the woman she once was? How every little thing counted? How you wanted her to feel? And how exciting it all was.

Now you will date her again. Will reveal yourself again. This time as a boi.

Isn't that something to look forward to? To work at? To work out for?

And to go shopping for?

Well, it's as good an excuse as any, and when you're a bitch, you'll take any excuse to go shopping!

Back to your ensemble. Have you found the suit you like? That fits you tight? The tuxedo shirt that matches? Then it's time to shop for accessories. Nothing too terribly fancy. Even I don't glam up fully all the time. Most of the time, yes, but then, I'm still years into your future. Baby steps, my darlings.

Get comfortable in the suit. Strike a pose. Strike two. Or three or four. Vogue, my darlings. We can all learn from Madonna. Vogue yourself. As we get your accessories, one by one.

First, rings. A bitch wears them proudly. And a bitch wears them in silver. In steel. Or in titanium.They must be part of you. And be on your thumb. And your pinky finger. And your ring finger. I prefer for one of them to cover the knuckle, like a shield. A single ruby red stone to show my desire. Follow my style, darlings. Remember. I am the one to dress you up. I'm your sister. Your mother. I'm your teacher.

And we are dressing you up to go on your first date!

Isn't that the best? Doesn't that make your cunt already twitch? Oh, I know it does. And your heart flutters with excitement. How much fun it will be! And how many things I have planned for your date. And for your cunt. During your date.

And more, you will for the first time show a full ensemble for your body! And your fingers as well! Your claws will be painted, openly, for the first time. Because we want to look good for our first date, don't we? And silver rings? metal rings? They go best with something understated, if you are a boi. Black. Urban Decay black. Glossy and catching the light, that restaurant's light where you will take your wife, your girlfriend for the first time as yourself.

Underneath the rings, of course, I will often go for fingerless lace gloves. Which reveal just enough skin to make it look interesting.

Now, what else is missing? We are missing something, don't we?

Oh, yes! Shoes! A boi has got to have some decent shoes!

We can't use boots here. Well, not full boots. Think of the ensemble, darlings! Always! No details must be amiss! We are introducing ourselves. Now, me personally? In such an ensemble, I wear Tory Burch ankle boots. Their Whitney ankle boots are mine. Totally mine! Dreadfully expensive, of course, but they come in a beautifully simple style, 4 inch heels that are easy to walk in and have just the cutest golden ring at the bottom.

And since our feet will need to be as comfortable and sexy as our fingers, I prefer nylon ankle socks with a lace top and lace-up detail. That just spill over my Tory Burch's with their lace tops. Delightful! And difficult to find. I bought all of mine at Diva's Closet, but you might find them elsewhere.

It will take time to get all these things. Time and money. While you work on your body. And I work on your soul.

Assemble yourself in my image.

And look at what you see in the mirror when you are done.

So much better, even, than being naked, isn't it?

So much more fulfilling?

Get used to it. Move in it. Vogue in it.

Turn around. How it hugs all the right places.

Your ensemble. Chosen by me for you.

Do it in silence. Do it in private.

This is how I looked. On my first time. Now yours.

Soon. Very soon, my darlings.

Your wife, your girlfriend will meet you.

For the very first time.



How To Be A Boi Bitch Lesson 09



Of course, coming out, that's an awfully big step, and one that requires months to perfect it. To plan it just right. But by now, my darlings, you have most of your accessories and have had enough time to feel comfortable with them. The suit fits you perfectly. The painted claws have become you. You feel naked without them. Not complete. The art of the smoke? Perfected, both alone and with your wife, your girlfriend.

The painful roar of the bitch inside, over time, becomes a purr. Controlled. Sexy. All of you. As you have forgotten the man you once were. Not even a memory anymore. As the bitch started to date your wife, your girlfriend. You are in control now, my darlings. Comfortable and no longer content to hide.

That is your moment, my darlings. Once you have accepted what you are becoming, what you have become over the past weeks and months. When you wish that your wife, your girlfriend come home to see what you are. The whore you have put so much work into. When you are no longer afraid, nor frenzied with lust, not ashamed nor embarrassed. When your body has caught up with your soul to shape a new person. A boi. 

Wait for that moment, my darlings. 

And cherish it. For it will change your life, forever.

(10) TO BE A BITCH IS TO COME OUT IN STYLE

And once you have arrived at that moment, it is time to act. To plan. To scheme. Like only a bitch can. To look forward to all the days to come. Like only a whore can.

Make-up, of course, is important. But difficult to describe. Of all the bitch's attributes, it is the most difficult to master. There are, however, many web sites that will help you. On how to apply eye shadow, how to fill your lips in the most exquisite ways. How to shape them like a heart, make them fuller, make them smaller. Perfect them to fit your features. One wrong touch, and you'll look like you fell into a paint jar. And make no mistakes... you will make those mistakes. I did. It took me weeks of practice to perfect my look. Hours of frustration in front of a make-up mirror. Trying out. Experimenting with shapes and colours. And again, it will take patience, my darlings. Patience does make the bitch. Skin colour. Shades. Eye shapes. All of which are you. All of which can be perfected. 

Be patient and work on it, just as you work on your body and work your lover.

Because you want it to be perfect, and so do I.

And once you have achieved all that, and I am so very proud of you, my darlings, that you have, here is what you will do. How you will prepare. To come out in style.

How many cocks have you collected so far? When i was at your point, I had four. And two inflatable anal plugs, one with a remote control. And with each one, it was easier for me to go into the store. To look the sales girl in the eyes. To shop for them the way I sued to shop for mundane, male things. have you talked to your sales girl? Flirted with her, a little? Listened to her advice as she has shown you all those delights? Did you talk about the fuck? How to prolong it? I have. A sales girl in an erotic shop is a boi's angel. She may not be called Clarence, but there sure is a little bell that chimes whenever you enter the store, isn't there? And that alone makes it heaven.

And that is why you have returned there. Again and again. Because it is heaven, and thank god for cute bois!

Return there again. You will need a few more things for your coming out. And not all of them will be for you, my darlings. The first thing, the one thing I have withheld from you for so long? That you only deserve now? 

Your first pair of panties, my darlings!

And isn't that thought enough to make your bitch cock shudder and twitch?

At the thought it will finally be wrapped by black lace? Being barely covered up by it as the string bites deep between your cheeks? Haven't you wondered? How much better it will feel around you? So much better than your boxers? Your briefs? Tucking your bitch cock between your legs, even as it hardens?

Oh, my darlings. Once you have experienced that, you will never go back! I have not worn a single piece of those ugly underwear abortions the fashion industry throws at men since I have come out. A bitch wears panties, all the time! 

Yes, that first pair of panties, only days, maybe even just hours way from being soiled, that is your gift to yourself.

But there needs to be a little bit of punishment, too, wouldn't you agree? After all, you and me, we've been keeping a secret. From your wife. Your girlfriend. Your lover. An she should punish you, shouldn't she? she has that right. And you want her, too. As long as the punishment comes with pleasure. And it will. Darlings, it will.

For this is the second item you will buy. 

An anal plug that is inflatable and comes with a wireless remote control.

And you know who will control it, right?

Hmmmm. Yes. She will punish you. 

And you will want her to. I know you have been craving it ever since we started this journey together, you and me. Ever since I have gifted you your cunt. Twitching. Opening for her. Her fingers. And her cock. 

That's right, my darlings. I will gift her a cock. 

Or rather, I will have you gift her one.

We must be equal in all things, wouldn't you agree? Men and women. Bois and girls. Fluidity in motion as she will take you on the floor, the way you have taken her. Bodies that will melt together in frenzied fucking. A thrust that will finally open you up all the way. 

You are almost ready now, my darling cock whores.

Ready to come out.

Get ready. For this will be your final test. Your final assignment. Ask for it. For your wife's cock, for your girlfriend's dick that will make both of you cock whores, made for each other. Choose carefully, my darlings. Not only will you know where it's going (and doesn't that make your spine tingle?), you will also give the greatest gift a boi can give to a girl.

So while you are still in the store, get a grip, feel them, slide your fingers around them. Do it openly. Do it proudly. And ask your confidant, your personal shop girl to help you find the right weight, the right size. Have her wrap it up as a present. because it is. But one of the many you and your lover will share from now on.

Are you ready now?

Are you at home? While she is at work? Ready to get dressed? Ready to celebrate? Because this will the day, my darlings, that you and I have been working towards all these months. Cherish every moment. Sit down with me. Smoke with me. I'm here with you. I'm your best friend. Already dressed with you. Hush, my darlings. Whatever adventures you and I have shared already, they are nothing compared to those you will share with her. Let me light you. Let me cover you up. In smoke and delight.

Stand up now. Yes, that's a good posture for you. Let me slide that plug into your cunt. Wetting it with spit. You are relaxed now, aren't you? At peace. With me. With yourself. With what will come next. Offer yourself up. We'll need you to prepare for your lover. That cunt needs to be wide open for her. And wet. My spit on it as I slide the plug into you.

It feels so small, doesn't it?

We are used to so much bigger by now, aren't we?

We want it much bigger. And soon, we will get it. The tubing coming out of your cunt looks like a beautiful tail, doesn't it? Perfectly capped with a rubber ball, just waiting to be squeezed. Swirl around, my darlings. Play with your tail. Let it rush through the air before you catch it with your palm. Squeeze it. Fill the air rushing through the tube. Into your plug. Larger now. Not large enough. Squeeze it more. Pressure pressing against you, from the inside. Pushing it against all the sweet spots, until you feel you can't take anymore. 

And your bitch cock hardens. Slipping out of your panties. Another reason why I love them so much. They can never truly contain a bitch's cock. Now sit down with me. Put your entire weight on your ass. It hurts doesn't it? Hurts so good. I'm sure you want to touch yourself now. But you won't. I'm still in control of you. And what you are about to experience, my darlings, is going to push you beyond it. beyond any and every control.

Is your gift package to your wife in front of you? All wrapped up? There is still something missing, is there? A yes. A note. We will write one for her, won't we? A note. No. A letter. She deserves a letter. To explain to her what a whore you are. What a whore you want her to be with you. While all you want to do is cum. But I won't let you. And you won't touch yourself. Not now. 

Write it with me, my darlings. Tell her. 

My dearest love--

-- my name is Boi. And I am your friend. I am here to bring you pleasure. Just as for the past months I have brought pleasure to your husband, to your boyfriend. I am here to change you. Just as I have changed him. Have no fear. You liked how I changed him, haven't you? How much more attentive he has become? How more ferocious he is as your lover? How much more understanding he is? 

I have changed him, because he wants to gift himself to you, again. Because he asked me to. And how could I say no? 

We have not been lovers, him and me. I have been his teacher. I taught him those things about himself that you already knew, didn't you? I taught him to smoke, for you, so you can share it. I taught him to take care of himself and his body, for you. I have wrapped him up in his fantasies and yours, for you.

I have gifted him a cunt, for you.

I believe in full equality, my sweet and loving girl.

And I want you to open this gift, just as you will open him. 

He has told me about your filthy mind, and I love you for it. So does he. He has told me about your dream of other cocks. he is not afraid. For he loves you. And he wants to be more, for you. Your husband, your boyfriend, your best girlfriend, your confidant and your slut. When you look at a gorgeous man and tell your girlfriend about how you wish that man's cock was in you... that girlfriend will be him. 

We all have secrets, my loving girl. Things we don't share, especially with the ones we love. We are afraid of them, our desires and our lusts, for we have been taught so many times that they are wrong, they are nasty, they make you a freak.

And how would our loved ones look at us?

When all we secretly want to be is free? And still loved? 

I will gift you that freedom. For know that he loves you. 

And I will gift you power. Take this present with you. Yes, here at work. the others already looking at you, aren't they. As you are flushing. You know what is inside it, don't you? Something you sometimes wished, you sometimes dreamed and hoped you could have. Take it to the rest room, my sweet girl. 

Let me transform you. Like I have transformed him.

Sit on the toilet seat and open it. It feels heavy, doesn't it? That's good. It is powerful. And it's yours. From this moment on. Unwrap it. And see it come to you. This is your cock. He chose it for you. He chose it, because it will fit you. It will be part of you. Take it in your hand. Stroke it a few times. It's a good feeling, isn't it? Although it is rubber and latex, given shape, given form, giving you all kinds of tempting thoughts. While your colleagues outside the booth, their lives have suddenly become so... mundane. Chats about co-workers and bills and accounts.

While you have a cock. It changes things, doesn't it? If you strapped it on, you could walk out there and bend one of them over the basin. Thrusting into her. Like you would have never been able before. But now you could. Isn't it wonderful? For that is freedom, my darling girl. 

That is the freedom of the whore.

Slide into the harness now. Underneath your working pants, your business suit, this is what I want you to feel. Its length as it slaps against your thigh. The weight. Slide it into your pants leg. In the knowledge you are more than everybody else here. And know it was your lover who gave it to you. Who wants to share his power with you as you share yours with him.

He is waiting for you. 

P.S. Look at the bottom of the box, my darling girl. You will find a remote. Once you meet what has become of your man, the glorious boi he has become, you will know what to do with it.