15 comments/ 34470 views/ 25 favorites The Chief Pt. 01 By: Aunt_Joanne When I was 19, I was still trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. I had just dropped out of college and was working construction in my home town. Construction work was hard, but I liked it. The guys I worked with were cool. It was honest work and it paid enough for me to keep my head above water. It was also a "manly" pursuit, and that was important to me at the time. I had always been insecure about my masculinity. I had a skinny, delicate build. (You know, the kind that's always picked last for football teams in P.E.) I made good grades, and these days, I suppose I'd have been called a nerd. I was always intimidated by big, athletic guys. Bigger boys had always picked on me, and I was never big enough to fight back, which didn't do much for my self-esteem. Having two older sisters and no brothers didn't help, either. But the other thing that didn't help my own sense of masculinity was that ever since I was four or five years old, I had been trying on my sisters' underwear. I couldn't figure out the appeal, except that when I tried on a pair of panties or a slip, it was like I was taking a vacation from the constant burden to "be a man." I loved the cool, smooth feeling of the fabric, and even though I felt guilty afterwards, I borrowed panties every couple of weeks. After high school, I went to college, majoring in geology, but after a couple of semesters, I knew I hated it. The only problem is that I couldn't figure out what I DID want to do, so instead of wasting any more of my time and Mom and Dad's money, I dropped out, planning to return when I had a better idea of my life's direction. Construction jobs were easy to find, and like I said, it was a good way to earn a living for a young kid. And, of course, it was "masculine." Most of my co-workers were really good guys, but there were others that made me feel like I was back in high school. They would make fun of my size, or my delicate facial features, and a few of them made comments about my "cute little bubble butt." Some of them laughingly speculated on how I would be in bed, and a few offered to find out. Those "offers" were always delivered in a crowd, so I knew they weren't serious, so I usually responded with, "It'd be the best you ever had, pal!" or something like that. I knew that if I didn't show I was upset, they'd stop soon enough. But it DID upset me, and even worse, it made me feel funny inside when they'd make wisecracks about my butt. What was really confusing was that there was a part of me that wondered what it would be like to be a girl with another man. Some times, I wondered what would happen if I took up some guy's "offer" of sex. They'd probably beat the crap out of me, and I knew I wouldn't ever respond that way, but late at night, I'd slip into a pair of panties and stockings and fantasize about one of those big burly, hairy construction workers treating me like a girl, giving me release from the constant effort to be masculine. My dad, knowing that construction wasn't going to be a lifetime career for me, suggested that I check out joining the military. I didn't really want to be cannon fodder, but on the other hand, I had always liked flying, and the ocean had always fascinated me, so the Air Force and Navy sounded intriguing. One afternoon, I went by the Navy recruiting office to see what it was all about. It was in a little storefront shopping center, and the guy behind the front desk was very friendly. I told him that I wasn't interested in signing up right away, but that I was just checking out my career options. He suggested that I talk to "the Chief." And that's when I was introduced to Chief Howard. He was a tall, very well-built black man in a crisp khaki uniform with lots of service ribbons and brass insignia. "Get your young buns back here and let's have a talk, young man!" he said with a broad smile. He extended a large hand and I introduced myself. Chief Howard was one of those guys that I had always been intimidated by. Big and masculine, with an aura of being in complete control. When we shook hands, my hands seemed tiny compared to his. He was a little scary, but there was something in his smile that was open and friendly and accepting, and a twinkle in his eye hinted at a sense of humor. Strangely, I felt comfortable with him, and something else... admiration? excitement? I held his gaze for the longest time. It was like he was looking right through me, but at the same time, he seemed completely accepting of everything he saw. We talked about the Navy and educational opportunities, what basic training was like, and what life was like onboard a ship. The Chief seemed very interested in me, and asked about my life experiences, what I had studied in college, and what I wanted to do with my life. I figured this was pretty standard behavior for a recruiter, but I enjoyed his interest anyway. He told me something about his life growing up in a small town in Mississippi and how the Navy had opened up a world of opportunities. I had never been particularly sociable, and truth be told, I had always felt uncomfortable meeting new people, but there was something about the Chief that put me at ease. He wasn't like anyone else I had ever met before, but I liked him, and he seemed to like me, too. (Although I knew they probably trained recruiters to make prospective recruits feel special.) But there was a feeling in the back of my mind that I couldn't figure out. It was kind of scary, but I was drawn to the Chief, and it felt right, and somehow exciting, to open up to him about my life and feelings. The Chief gave me a test, one that was a lot like those "fill in the oval with a Number 2 pencil" tests I had taken to get into college. He got up and walked around to my side of the desk and leaned down to show me how to complete the test. Leaning down next to me, I became aware that his hand was on the back of my chair, almost like his arm was around me. Normally, I would have been uncomfortable with such closeness, but when I felt his hand on my shoulder, I wanted to lean into him. What was THAT all about? I became aware of the Chief's aroma. He smelled clean and musky and very manly, and I think he might have noticed my long intake of breath as he leaned in close. I must have blushed, but the Chief just smiled and acted like nothing was unusual. Before I knew it, three hours had gone by. The funny thing is, I wasn't in any hurry to leave. I don't know how interested I was in the Navy, but I really felt comfortable around the Chief. I told him I liked the idea of signing up, but that I wanted to consider it awhile and to spend some more time talking about it. "Well, let's continue this over supper, then," he said. "I can come by and pick you up in a couple of hours and I'll treat you to dinner." I couldn't get the words out fast enough to agree, and he gave me one of those quizzical, knowing looks that made me think that he knew more about what I was feeling than even I did. I went home and took a shower, all the time feeling way too excited. Drying off from the shower, I noticed my smooth, hairless legs. A couple of days ago, I had shaved them because I liked the way they looked and felt in stockings. Something about having smooth legs excited me even more than usual. After drying off, I went over to my underwear drawer and almost pulled out a pair of boxers before catching a glimpse of lace at the back of the drawer. I had a naughty, frightening thought: an image of going out to supper with a strong, masculine man like the Chief while I was wearing pretty, feminine lingerie went through my mind. No one would ever know, and I could almost pretend that I was on a date. I put the boxers back in the drawer and pulled out a pair of pink nylon, lace-trimmed bikini panties and slipped them up my legs. On an impulse, I went back and pulled out a package of nylon stretch stockings with reinforced toe and heel, then pulled out my little white garter belt. I had an enormous erection as I slipped the stockings up my legs and fastened them to the garter belt, fantasizing about my "date" with the Chief. I put on jeans and a polo, then reached to put on socks. I admired the dainty look of the nylon reinforcement on my toes and heels. What a shame it would be to cover up that look with thick socks! With a guilty thrill, I set the socks aside and put on a pair of loafers. As long as I was careful and didn't show too much ankle, no one would notice that I was wearing nylons under my jeans. Chief Howard came by at 7. He had changed out of his uniform but hadn't lost any of his strong, powerful bearing. He was wearing crisply pressed slacks and a fitted shirt. I found myself admiring his triangular build, with broad shoulders tapering down to a trim waist. I really hadn't noticed men's bodies much before, and I may have held my admiring gaze a little too long. I caught myself lingering, looking at his waist, wondering what he looked like underneath... Then quickly looked back at his face, but all I saw was that friendly, open smile, with maybe a twinkle in his brown eyes. Had he noticed? We went to a local Mexican restaurant and the Chief picked up the tab. Over enchiladas and beer, he told me about growing up in some pretty rough neighborhoods in Chicago, playing football in high school, and when that didn't get him a scholarship, the Navy being his way out. He had been around the world several times, and he had some great stories about Tokyo, London, and dozens more exotic places that I had only dreamed of visiting. I could see why the Navy had assigned him to be a recruiter; he made it all seem very appealing. And he seemed to think highly of me. "You aced those intake tests, kid. The Navy keeps an eye out for young, smart guys like you. You could pretty much pick your own assignment." He asked about my interests. I had always been fascinated with submarines, and told him so. "The Silent Service, huh? How do you feel about being cooped up with nothing but other men for six months?" I couldn't tell for sure, but when he asked that, there was something suggestive in his tone, and those eyes seemed to see right through me... Maybe it was just me; I had been distracted by him all day. He talked a lot about life aboard ship, never saying anything overtly suggestive, but making a life around other men sound very appealing. At that moment, the idea of being off at sea surrounded by hundreds of men like the Chief seem wonderful... What was WRONG with me?? I was supposed to be straight! A normal man! Sure, I liked to put on panties and fantasize about men, but that's all it was, just a fantasy. Deep down, I was a normal guy. But at the same time, every time I looked at the Chief, and heard his deep, smooth voice, something inside me went...tingly. Supper took a couple of hours, and when the Chief suggested we continue talking over at his place, I stumbled all over myself accepting. He had a nice, modest house, clean and well furnished, and he offered me a beer and turned on the TV. He seemed very interested in me and my background. I told him about growing up, and going to college, and working construction. Maybe it was the beer, but I even told him about the construction workers making fake passes at me and talking about my bubble butt. "Did that bother you much?" I told him no, and he said, "Well, I can see why they did it - you do have a tight little butt." I must have blushed, because my face suddenly felt very hot, and I couldn't think of anything to say. It turned out I didn't have to. I was sitting on the sofa next to him with one leg crossed over my knee, and he placed a hand on my ankle. "Those aren't socks are they?" Oh, FUCK... I was busted! Wearing fucking NYLONS in front of THIS man! Me and my stupid crossdressing... I was mortified. I looked like a pansy little pervert and failure in front of this man that I wanted to impress, and I felt like crying, of at least falling into a hole, but then he slid his hand up my jeans, feeling along my ankle and calf, and he said, "I'm glad you dressed up for me. Why don't you let me see the rest?" He was breathing more heavily, and his voice became softer, but he still had that smile, like all of this was just for fun, not too serious, and even though I was still humiliated and frightened, I stood up and kicked off my shoes. He looked at my feet a long time, the reinforced toes and heels in plain sight, then he undid my belt, and took my jeans down to the floor. I heard his sharp intake of breath as my garter belt, then panties, then the tops of my stockings come into view. "Man, you got pretty legs like a girl, baby." He ran his hands up my legs, then he reached behind and squeezed my buns in his big hands. "Those hardhat guys were right, baby, that is a sweet little ass. Turn around for me." I turned around and faced away from him, practically feeling his eyes burning into my backside. "That shirt doesn't look right with those stockings. Take it off and turn back around for me." It was like he was ordering me, and I should have objected, but a new kind of feeling was taking me over. After a lifetime of wanting to be in charge, I suddenly wanted to be subservient, to do whatever this man wanted so I could please him. I took off my shirt and stood in front of him clad in nothing but garter belt, panties, and stockings, and I wanted him to think I was... pretty... "Aw, you are a sweet, pretty little thing. You got me all excited. You think you can take care of me?" "Yes..." I stammered. My head was spinning with fright and humiliation and desire and I could barely speak. "Let's see about that..." The Chief stood up, and towering over me, and he unbuckled his belt and pulled off his slacks. He wasn't wearing any underwear, and I saw his huge, black cock for the first time. I had seen plenty of cocks in gym class, and I always thought they looked ugly. But this was different. This one wanted me. It was about half hard, dark brown like milk chocolate, at least eight inches long, thick, and uncut, with a tight ball sack surrounded by a thatch of black pubic hair with just a couple of gray hairs mixed in. I couldn't look away, and I found that my mouth was watering. "You see anything you like, honey?" he said as he rested his warm hands on my shoulders. I just nodded. He took off his shirt and sat back on the couch, naked, and spread his knees apart slightly. His body looked chiseled, with tight, rippled abs, huge shoulders and arms, and muscular legs. Every contour on his smooth black skin showed the powerful muscles underneath. "Why don't you kneel down and get to know me better, sweetheart?" I dropped to my knees in an instant, leaned forward, and found myself face to face with his crotch. He smelled like soap and just a little bit of sweat. I felt his hand on the back of my head, not forcing me, but guiding me closer to his crotch. I breathed deeply, taking in the aroma of him. Just before my nose touched his crotch, he took his hand away, letting me set my own pace. I was beyond rational thought. Any memory of masculinity or manhood or embarrassment was overwhelmed by the sensation of kneeling submissively in front of a man, dressed in feminine clothing, taking the part of the female for the first time. My heart was racing, and I was dizzy, but I wanted nothing more than to be a girl for him, to give whatever part of my body he wanted so I could please him. I had admired his masculinity all day. It was a masculinity I could never achieve, but I didn't want to. Right now, all I wanted was to lick... his... cock. And I did. I ran my tongue along the underside of his shaft, feeling it growing and getting firmer as I did so. I buried my nose into his sack and kissed his balls, licking and kissing, then I took his big cock in my hand. "You doin' just fine, honey. Let's see how good you can suck a dick now." I looked at the huge shaft and hesitated. As soon as the tip passed my lips, I would forever be a cocksucker. I had already compromised my masculinity, but this was irreversible. Calling someone a cocksucker was the worst kind of insult, but as I looked at his cock, my mouth involuntarily watered again. I didn't care about insults, or what other people thought. At that moment, being a sissy, effeminate cocksucker sounded like the most wonderful thing in the world. I wanted to be a pansy. I wanted to be submissive and act like a girl with a virile, masculine man, giving my body to him and doing whatever I had to do to bring him pleasure. His cock looked beautiful to me, and with only a little bit of fear, I formed my lips into a cocksucking "O" and let the tip slide into my mouth. "Oh, yeah, baby, that's it. Work your daddy's dick, honey." I moved my head up and down on the shaft. "No teeth now. Wrap your lips over your teeth." I did as he said, and held the tip of my tongue over my lower teeth, forming my mouth into a comfortable, moist receptacle for a penis. Making my mouth into a pussy. The Chief put his hand to the side of my face, not forcing anything, just caressing me as I worked him. His dick was silky smooth to the touch, yielding at the surface but firm and hot beneath. As it moved in and out of me, I let my gaze travel up past his patch of pubic hair, up to his muscular abs, to his pecs, pausing to look at his dark nipples, and then to his face, seeing his eyes looking straight into mine. There was a fierce authority there, but what made me want to lose myself to him was that same friendly twinkle in his eyes. He was unquestionably in charge; I had given myself over to him, and he was utterly dominant over me, but the look in his eyes let me know that it was all okay. Nothing about what I was doing was "normal." Somehow, it was better than merely normal. It was as if I was embarking on a whole new, rare way of life (which I suppose I was!), but he made me feel fortunate to be a man who could function as a woman. Other men couldn't imagine putting on women's dainties, much less wanting to, and yielding to another man sexually, but here I was, on my knees in front of a man, feeling the tug of my silky stockings against my smooth thighs, the nylons tickling my toes and feet, feeling the smoothness of my panties against my butt, pursing my lips around a man's penis and bobbing my head up and down like a whore, or a bride, gazing into his eyes, submitting myself to him. Acting just like a real woman. I must have been doing something right, because he started moaning and gently thrusting his hips. "That's just right, baby. You doin' just fine. You a sweet little white pussyboy. You like that big dick?" I nodded and tried to smile around his cock. "You keep that up for daddy." He became less and less verbal, thrusting his hips more rhythmically, and he held his hands on each side of my head, not really forcing himself, but keeping me positioned just where he wanted. He started fucking my mouth in earnest, and it was an effort to keep myself wrapped around him, but all at once, I felt his cock swell, and he gave a spasmodic jerk and my mouth was full of semen, hitting the back of my throat and making me momentarily gag, but I realized it was him, his essence, his sperm, and I didn't want to lose it. The taste and texture was unfamiliar and not very pleasant but I remembered that this was what girls tasted when they sucked dick. I wanted to know what it was like to be a girl, and girls swallowed. I backed off his dick, and one last shot hit me on the cheek, and I held his come in my mouth, looked at him...and swallowed. "Oh, fuck, girl, you got me inside you now." He wiped the droplet of come off my cheek with his finger. I took his hand, licked it off the tip of his finger, and swallowed again. "Damn, baby, you a hard core sissy. And you are natural cocksucker. You mind me calling you that?" The Chief Pt. 01 "No, Chief. I kinda like it." "Come here, sweetie." I got up and sat beside him on the couch and he put his arms around me and kissed me, gently, but forcefully, unlike any kiss I had ever had with a girl. This time I was the one being kissed. I felt his tongue on my lips and they parted, and he french kissed me, and it took my breath away as his hands roamed over my shoulders and sides and back, and I could smell his breath and feel his thick, luxurious lips on mine, and his hands went down to my panties and he played with the lace of my waistband, then ran his hands over my thighs, feeling the nylon there. I must have whimpered or moaned because he stopped the kiss and asked, "You okay, baby?" "Yes. I just... I've never... I don't know how to feel..." "You want me to stop?" "NO!" He chuckled and kissed me again, and I lost myself again, letting his hands roam over every part of my body until he stopped and said, "Stand up and let me get another good look at that pretty little outfit." I stood up in front of him, completely on display, turning when he said turn, showing my pantied backside to him, letting him look me over. "That's a sexy look. You're a pretty little sissy. You'd look even prettier with some makeup. You ever worn makeup?" I told him no, and he asked me more about my crossdressing, and I told him about sneaking lingerie at an early age, and how I had gotten some lingerie of my own, and how often I wore it, and what I thought about when I masturbated, and my fears about being homosexual. I told him how hard it was for me to maintain an image of masculinity. I told him everything, because somehow, with him, it wasn't shameful. It seemed like a joke that I would ever worry about it because HE was so comfortable with it. Not just comfortable, he liked it. He thought I was sexy. "Why don't you spend the night here. I'll feed you breakfast in the morning." I smiled back at him. "Breakfast?" "Nothing you can't handle, sissyboy." I leaned down and kissed him, then let him lead me off to his bed. If this is what being a sissyboy was like, I liked it. I might feel guilty about it later, but right now, my head was spinning at the pleasure, the fulfillment of being a sissy little cocksucker. Once in the bedroom, I took off my stockings and garter belt but left on my panties at the Chief's insistence. We spooned together in his bed, and I fell asleep with my head on his arm, feeling his strong body all along my back and his manhood poking against my butt, and I wondered what else the Chief was going to teach me. The Chief Pt. 02 I awoke the next morning to the aroma of bacon frying. I was alone in a strange bed, and for a moment, I couldn't remember where I was. Then it all came back to me. It hadn't been some vivid erotic dream. I was lying in another man's bed, naked except for a pair of pink nylon panties. My stockings and garter belt were discarded on the floor, and my male clothes were...somewhere? Oh, God, what had I done? The memories came back to me and I realized that I had lost my lifelong struggle to be a real man. Dressing up had always been a guilty little diversion, but last night, I had given up my masculinity entirely and acted... like a woman. I got up and went to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I saw the skinny, undersized frame that I had always hated, but then I realized that maybe it was okay to look like this. Instead of skinny and undersized, maybe I looked "slim" and "delicate." Somebody seemed to find me appealing, and last night, I had been on my knees in front of him, sucking his dick. I had swallowed his cum. My stomach tingled as I realized that I had part of another man inside me now. My boy clothes were somewhere in the living room, but after all that had happened, there didn't seem to be any reason to put them on. There wasn't much to hide, at least not to this man. I walked into the kitchen wearing just my panties and saw the Chief, wearing a pair of boxers and a tight khaki tee shirt, fixing bacon and eggs. "I told you I'd make you breakfast, sweet cheeks. You want some coffee?" "Please." "How do you take it?" "Black." We both smiled at the unstated joke as he poured me a cup. There was a battle raging in my mind, as a lifetime of insecurity and habit and struggle was being overshadowed by the Chief's presence. The old habits were losing; I found myself wanting to kiss him. "You look nice," he said as he turned away from the stove and stood in front of me, then leaned down to me and kissed me deeply. My arms went around his neck as if they had a will of their own, and our bodies pressed against each other, and I felt the heat of him, and his muscles against me, and the large bulge of his manhood against my stomach. We might have gone at it again if the bacon hadn't been ready. What the hell had happened to me? I was straight! I dated girls! Except for my little panty fetish, I was a normal guy, and somehow, in the course of one night, I had become a... what? A faggot? A cocksucker? (Yes.) A girl? I didn't know what I had become, but the feel of the Chief's body made me feel all submissive and sexy again, and there was no question that I liked it. "I meant what I said last night," he told me over breakfast. "I don't want to make you feel bad, but you're real pretty for a boy. With a little makeup and fixing up, you'd make an even prettier girl." "I... I've never done that before. I wouldn't know how to put on makeup." "You never even tried on a little lipstick?" "Well..." "Ha! I thought so. Tell me about it." The Chief was making me remember and confess things that I had always been ashamed of, but that damn seductive, accepting smile of his made it seem like I could tell him anything. I told him about experimenting with some of my sisters' lipstick and mascara when I was younger, and how I wasn't very good at it. "Makeup is tough. Most sissies overdo it and look like clowns. You just need someone to show you the right techniques. I can introduce you to my sister; she's a cosmetician. She could teach you a lot." "Your sister knows about...?" "That I like ladyboys? Yeah." "Chief, are you...gay?" The Chief chuckled. "You tell me. I always dated girls. Still do sometimes. A few years back, I was on the Nimitz and we made port in Pattaya, Thailand. A few buddies and I had a long liberty, so we went to Bangkok for a few days. That's when I saw my first ladyboy." "You mean like...transvestites?" "A lot more than just transvestites. They start out at an early age and take training to be girls, in and out of the bedroom. They take hormones and their bodies develop like women. They still have male gear, but they have sweet little breasts and firm little butts." "But they're still boys... or, or men, right?" I asked. "No way. They've given up their manhood completely. They're more female than any natural born woman ever could be. Maybe that's what the appeal is for me - they've chosen to give up their masculinity entirely. They're delicate, and slender, and they move like women, and they make love like women, not because they were born that way, but because they've chosen to do so. There's something really sexy about that. That trip to Bangkok was when I decided I liked girls who used to be guys. If that makes me gay, then I guess I'm gay, but I know that when I'm with a ladyboy, or a sissy, I feel like I'm with a woman, and I treat her that way." In spite of the events of last night, I felt a little inadequate being in competition with these hormone-enhanced asian beauties. "But... You spent the night with me, and I'm not on hormones or-" "Hold up there, baby girl! I already said I think that with a little help, you'd make a mighty pretty girl. A little makeup and growin' that pretty hair out a little longer. Gettin' it styled into one of those cute "unisex" hairstyles. Maybe cut you some bangs... Get you into bra and stockings, then a nice dress and some sexy high heels... Damn, girl, you'd be HOT! Besides, I don't like asian girls that much. I like my girls American." "And white?" "Yeah." "That's kind of racist, Chief," I smiled. "Well, maybe so, but you didn't seem too racist last night, baby," he chuckled. He grabbed behind me by the waist and pulled me to him again, and I giggled like a damn schoolgirl and his tongue slipped between my lips and he kissed me long and hard. "Besides, you don't need hormones. It's like I was sayin', it's not so much looks as femininity." He looked straight into my eyes and added, "It's making the decision to give up their masculinity." My heart skipped a beat (again!) as I realized just how deeply I might be pulled into all this if I kept doing this with the Chief. Last night had been strange and unfamiliar, but I had loved it, and I wanted to do it again. But how badly did I want it? Could I really give up my manhood entirely? Would he really want me to? How far would I have to go to keep him satisfied? More important, how far did I want to go? I had fantasized about prancing around in girlie clothes in the past, but this could be for real! Could I bring myself to turn my back on my previous life, give up dating women, and starting all over as a... "Hey, baby, you lookin' way too serious. You need to spend the day relaxing with my sister. She has a spa and beauty shop in town. She knows everything about makeup. Not just that, but she can give you a full spa treatment. It's Saturday, but she'll make some time for her big brother and his new girlfriend." "You said she knows about you and that you like..." "Sissies?" He was making me admit it. To him and to myself. "Yes," I said reluctantly. "Yeah, she knows all about my girlfriends. She'll have a great time fixing up a pretty little white boy to be a pretty little white girl. C'mon, you've got the day off, right?" "Yeah." I had been in beauty shops before, but never as a customer. The idea of going into "no man's land" and allowing a woman I had never met change my appearance scared me, but even stronger than my fear was the desire to know how I would look. Was the Chief right? Would I really be "pretty?" What would it be like to look in the mirror and see the image of a "real" girl, and not just a skinny boy wearing lingerie, looking back at me? "You can wear those jeans and shirt on the way over; we'll get you some new clothes while we're there." The thought of what those new clothes might be thrilled and frightened me. The Chief gathered up the dishes and said, "First, though, we both need a shower." He took off his shirt and added, "Why don't you take off those pretty little panties and let the Chief get you nice and clean?" I shucked my panties in no time and went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. The Chief stepped in behind me, naked, and I got my first really good look at his body. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. Broad shoulders, sinewy arms and legs, muscular chest with dark, quarter-sized nipples, a flat, rippled stomach, trim waist. His dark skin somehow highlighted the contours of his body, showing the muscles underneath. And that cock. Like black velvet. I had had it in my mouth last night. I had teased it, and licked it and sucked it until I caused him to have an orgasm. Then as he released, I had swallowed his essence, and it was still inside me. His cock was half hard, and I actually felt my mouth watering as I looked at it. The Chief soaped up a washcloth, stood in front of me, and started gently and slowly washing my shoulders and neck, then my chest, lingering on my nipples, teasing them. Then he pulled me against him and washed my back. All the time, he was murmuring what a pretty girl I was. I just stood against him, my arms went around his torso. He took the soap and lathered his hands, then rubbed my backside, kneading my buns and working his soap-slicked hands into my crack. Slowly, so slowly I hardly noticed except for the pleasure, he worked his fingers farther between my buns and let one finger circle my hole. Little electric sparks radiated from my anus as his fingers teased, pressing against my virgin opening, then backing off, then pressing again. "You like that, baby?" "Ye- yes..." "You want me to go inside?" he whispered. My body was limp against his, my arms around him, feeling his now fully erect manhood against my stomach. I felt that urgent need to please him again and even though it scared me, I was ready to do whatever he wanted of me. I couldn't speak, so I nodded. He soaped his hands again and worked his way back between my cheeks. My entire butt was slick with soap and water. His finger pressed against me again, not teasing this time, insistently pressing against my opening. "Just relax, baby. The Chief's gonna make you feel so good, make you feel just like a beautiful princess." Something inside me gave in to the pleasure, and I yielded, and the tip of his finger popped into my ass. I flinched and he whispered to me again, and his finger advanced inside me just a little, opening me up. Then he withdrew, almost pulling out, then pushing in again, a little deeper this time. It didn't hurt at all, and I felt the warm water flowing over both of us, and the Chief's body against me, but at the center of it all was his finger inside me, gently thrusting in and out. I realized that I was being finger-fucked. I had finger-fucked girls, but it had never given me a hard on like the one I had right now. I was rock hard, all because a man was inside me. It was a feeling of submission, and giving of myself, but even as relaxed as I was, my own dick craved release. Almost like he could read my thoughts, the Chief reached around with his free hand and grabbed my erection and began slowly stroking it. I began to move my ass back against his finger, needing more of it inside me, bucking against his hand, and suddenly I squealed and gave in to a thunderous orgasm, almost falling had it not been for the Chief holding me steady. I was shaking, my knees weak, and I began to cry as I rested my head against the Chief's chest. "Oh, that was so sweet, baby. You a sweet little sissy." "I shouldn't like this so much, Chief!" "Aw, you takin' all this way too seriously, baby! There's nothing wrong with having a little fun. You just learning different ways to have fun is all. Don't you worry about what other people think... They don't matter. You need to do what your heart tells you." I was still scared, but what he was saying made sense. What if I never walked down this path? What if I never tried to find out who I really was? My whole life had been a struggle to maintain a facade of manhood. None of that had ever made me happy. Nothing had ever made me feel as good as having a big, black, gentle, masculine sailor hold me and whisper to me and work his way inside me. Something like acceptance came upon me, and I looked up at him and smiled, then soaped up the washcloth and began washing the Chief's dark skin, admiring the way the suds gathered in the contours of his shoulders. I washed his arms, then his torso, and then I went to my knees. I soaped his cock and his ball sack, and washed his legs and feet. Still on my knees, I looked up and watched the water run down his abdomen and trickle off the tip of his penis. I drank. I ran my tongue into the crease between his ball sack and his thigh, then took one of his balls into my mouth, feeling the wrinkled skin and pubic hair with my tongue. The Chief turned off the water, moved his feet apart, and moaned as I tongued beneath his ball sack, back to his taint. He was fully erect now, all, what? 9? 10 inches? It was a real man's cock, and I wanted it in my mouth again, to feel like a cocksucker, so I licked all the way up from the root, all along the underside, then slipped it in my mouth. Remembering my lessons from last night, I wrapped my lip around my upper teeth and used my tongue to coved my lower teeth as I slowly, lovingly, bobbed my head on his cock. My mouth was a pussy again, and I was a sissy little cocksucker, and I had just been finger-fucked and I had had an orgasm from being finger-fucked and I loved being a woman sexually. I wanted to get good at this. I tried to get his cock all the way down my throat and couldn't, but I made a vow to learn. My lips and tongue could felt every vein on his shaft, and the ridge of his corona. Even in the shower, the manly aroma of his crotch filled my head and gave me that now familiar, overwhelming desire to lose myself in pleasuring the Chief. I flicked my tongue on the underside of the tip, eliciting a flinch and a moan from him. "Oh, baby... You doin' me ri- right... Ahhh... Suck that cock you little pussyboy... You like suckin' my black dick, baby? Tell me!" I looked up into his eyes, my mouth full of cock, my lips stretched around his girth, and nodded. "No, bitch. Say what you want." I pulled my head off of him, but continued to stroke him. "I want your cock, Chief," I admitted, gazing into his eyes, seeing the look of superiority in his face. "How do you want my cock, you little sissy bitch?" "I want it in my mouth, down my throat." "Where else do you want it?" he demanded. "I... I want it... in my ass, Chief." "No, girl. Once I tap you, it won't be an ass. Where do you want it?" "I want it in my... pussy." "Tell me what you want." I gave in. I forgot about masculinity and the words poured from me, as if someone else was saying them. "I want your big black cock in my pussy, Chief. I want you to fuck me. Hard. I want you to lay on top of me and I want to feel your cock up inside my pussy, fucking me until you fill my belly up with your cum. I want you to make me pregnant. I want to have your black baby. I want to be your sissy fuck toy and wear panties and dresses and nasty lingerie and do whatever turns you on. I want to be a woman for you and have you take me and own me and use every part of me for your pleasure. I want every drop of your cum. I want it all over me. I want-" The Chief exploded into my face. Thick ropes of semen shot onto my lips, cheeks, my eyes and chest. He shuddered, then held my head in his hands and rubbed it into his crotch, spreading the cum all over my face. The smell and taste of his cum was all over me, and I realized I had an enormous hard on. We both sighed. Without any prompting, I continued to rub my face into his crotch, licking the cum from his cock and belly. I was overcome with the need to get as much of him inside me as possible. By the time I was done cleaning him, the Chief had recovered. "Oh, fuck, sweetheart. You are amazing. That was intense. You doin' okay down there?" "Never been better, Chief." "Why don't you call me Michael? After that, I think we oughta be on a first name basis." "Yes, Michael." "And what should we call you? You need a nice girl's name." "I... I don't know, Ch-, er, Michael." "Why don't we try 'Joanne'? That's a pretty name. You look like a pretty little Joanne." I was even being given a new name, similar to my real name (or my old name?) but it was feminine, and it felt right somehow. "Joanne," the pretty little feminized cocksucker. I felt that familiar mixture of fear and excitement and freedom, and strangely, a relieved kind of calm as I envisioned myself spending time as a girl, not just with the Chief, but out in the world, in front of people. Wearing dresses. Shaving my legs. Having long, pretty hair. Wearing necklaces and bracelets, maybe even having my ears pierced. Having long eyelashes and painted lips and (I hoped) having a pretty girl's face. Getting used to wearing a bra. Having people treat me like a woman and reacting like one. I had a lot to learn. My hard on had disappeared, even without release, but as I anticipated the world that opened up for me, I felt a strange sense of calm. The Chief turned the water back on and together, we rinsed the remnants of our sex away. As we enjoyed the warm water pouring over us, the Chief had an idea. "You know, we got one more chore to do before we get out of here." "What's that, Michael?" "Well, you look mighty pretty, but let's clean up that stubble on your legs." He stepped over to the medicine cabinet and pulled out a razor and a can of shaving cream. I stood in the shower as he lathered up my legs, then shaved them completely smooth. But he didn't stop there. "We'll make you smooth as a baby's bottom all over. Get you all perfumed and powdered and you'll be a pretty little thing." He lathered my crotch and carefully denuded by pubic hair. Then he had me bend over and spread my cheeks as he removed all my hair from the waist down. I had never had any chest hair to speak of, but he shaved my chest smooth. Then he had me lift my arms and shaved my underarms. I was now completely hairless from the neck down. After drying me off, he rubbed lotion all over me, and my skin felt tingly and more sensitive than it ever had before. After that, he sprinkled baby powder all over me, giving particular attention to my crotch and ass crack. My pussy? I could feel the draft from the air conditioning as it caressed my skin. Slipping into my jeans and shirt, the texture of the fabrics felt completely different. My skin was smooth and silky and... luxurious, and feminine. Every movement reminded me that I was hairless now. Like a girl. Like Joanne. Michael rattled his keys and said, "C'mon, Joanne. Let's go see my sister." * Copyright 2014 by Aunt Joanne