Research

This story is dedicated to Kept Sissy who was so instrumental in helping me understand my urges.

I was in the final phase of getting my Doctorate in psychology. My dissertation was to be on the difference between transgender boys, homosexuals, and sissies. You see, the transgender feels as though they were born with the wrong physical sex organs whereas it's natural for the homosexual to have sex with men. The sissy allows himself to be either seduced or forced to perform homosexual acts with "real men" while wishing they could fuck women.

I had found no real scientific studies on the subject and felt that in this time of inclusion and diversity, one such paper was in order.

My name is John and I'm 27 years old. A nebbish sort, I find more comfort in books and scientific research than I did trying to chase coeds like my classmates. I'm 5'7" and thin, weighing a mere 140. I have to say that spending the time I have sitting in class, the library, and my desk at home, my hips spread a bit wider than is normal for the male species and my ass grew kind of plump due to the lack of exercise.

Please do not be fooled. Just because I let my body go soft, I keep up my appearances. My hair is neatly brushed 100 strokes per day, just before bed. Mother always said that doing that daily makes for a full and lush head of hair. I dare say she was right. And although my hair is long, I keep pulled back in a pony tail, a la Steven Segal, only a little longer.

I am certainly no clothes horse. Paying for my education was hard enough and left me little discretionary funds. The one good thing about my physical build is I can and do shop for clothes in the boys department. It cut down on costs tremendously. There were a couple draw-backs. One was that the pants I bought fit tightly. Fortunately for me my scrotum and penis are small, very small. The tight pants didn't hurt. But those same tight pants hugged my plump bottom and quite often you could see the line of my underpants. Also, because I'm really an adult, the pants I'd buy in the boys department would tend to be on the low rise. By that I mean they were slung low on my hips.

Since my feet were also small, almost dainty Mother used to say, I could fit into a boy's Keds sneaker.

My research kept me busy and since mother passed a few years ago, I was pretty much alone in the world. I missed the intimacy of mother.

She had been tough on me, teaching me manners and perseverance. Many were the bare bottom spankings and later on belt whippings I'd get from her for any transgression, minor or major. So it was almost natural for me to be naked in her presence.

Mother inspired my thesis. My manhood wasn't much on the man side she would constantly point out to me. I heard her tell a friend that perhaps she shouldn't look forward to grand children so much as a son-in-law.

Her criticisms made me want to make something of myself to prove her wrong.

So it was that I engaged myself into the study of differences between trannys, homos, and sissies.We all understand what a transgender is. We all realize that there are gays among us and that they're generally accepted. The sissy, however, is not understood at all. So I thought I'd should concentrate on that particular demographic.

To seek out what makes a sissy I found myself increasingly online. From Google searches, to adult web sites, there was a world I never knew existed. I read their bios and studied their physical attributes. I read of their triumphs and of their distresses. I was fascinated by the personal accounts and stories I read regarding self realizations and forced transformations. I was determined to find a sissy with whom I could have a meaningful interview. Our dialogue would be crucial to my work.

Turning to the internet, I made contact with a number of people who claimed, online that is, to be sissies. Only two responded. One was not really open to discuss his lifestyle with me. The other was more welcoming. More inviting. He prefers to go by the name his owner gave him and by the gender his owner has defined him. Her name is Ellen.

Through emails I learned that Ellen, as a young man, was lured or drawn (she isn't 100% on which) to her neighbor. A large rugged man with a corresponding sexual appetite, he seduced Ellen. First he had Ellen orally service his cock. The neighbor instructed Ellen to next appear to him in female panties.

Ellen was captivated. She went home and searched through her mother's lingerie drawer until she found a pair she felt suitable. She described them to me as and I quote, "a semi-transparent, pink bikini with small lace trim."

Ellen spoke of how sexy she felt when the nylon hugged her bottom and what she refers to as her boi clit.

Ellen also confided in me that after her first foray into her mother's panty drawer she was hooked. From that date forward, Ellen would only wear feminine under garments.

She related how the next day she hurried next door and lowered her pants to show her man she knew how to follow instruction.

"He complimented me," Ellen wrote. "Then he forced me to my knees and shoved his erection down my throat. It was on my knees on that cement floor that I learned to deep throat a real man's cock."

I made a note to say that I think she was bragging a bit there.

Ellen continued writing of the event. "After I had slobbered all over his cock he lifted me up, bent me over the hood of his pick-up truck, pulled my panties down, and fucked my boi-pussy."

I found it interesting that she still refers to herself as "her" but calls her genitalia by the masculine sounding boi clit and boi pussy. I asked about this.

Ellen's response is that she knows she's a male but not much of one. Early on she came to realize with the help of her neighbor that her purpose on earth was to make herself available to real men.

"He told me I'd never get pussy with my tiny dick and I should concentrate on cock sucking and looking pretty for the men who like to use bois like me. He also gave me instruction on how I was to present myself to him in future trysts."

Ellen wrote that her neighbor had her start wearing female under garments full time and make-up when she came calling. She wrote that soon she had a personal cache of panties, bras, hose, garters. "All to be more appealing to men," she wrote.

As we got deeper into our interview, Ellen told me how quickly her neighbor expected more from her. The simple oral sex and coitus began to morph into something different. Sessions started to include more physical activities such as spankings. She would be slapped for the slightest infraction or some times when her neighbor was simply in a bad mood.

"It was in that environment that I learned that a sissy must accept punishment for her lack of manhood," she told me. "We're essential to real men as a person on whom they can take out their aggressions and in whom they can pump their sperm without fear of making the sissy pregnant."

She told me how her initial fear quickly became arousal when she arrived at her neighbor's garage to find he had invited two others. Ellen was spanked several times that day and was made to perform oral sex on one while another took her "boi pussy". She described that occasion as liberating. She found her place as an outlet for aggressive men. Real men with large cocks.

She also discovered that he was charging his pals for her services. "You're my personal whore," he told her.

Ellen spent many hours on her knees learning to make oral love to scrotums and rimming the asses of her lovers. She was allowed sexual relief only by supervised masturbation and then usually in front of the multiple men who had used her.

As she grew older she sought out men who would continue to use her for their pleasure. She now had a man who she called her owner.

Again I was fascinated, I asked if we could meet. She agreed on the condition that whatever happens at Ellen's, stays at Ellen's.

I wasn't sure what she meant by that but in my haste to finish my work I agreed to her terms.

I caught the bus on the day we were to meet. As I traveled across town I noticed the typical looks and smirks of the men on the bus. A few leered for some reason. Others just stared at me. I was used to that by now and just ignored them.

My attire that day was jeans and a white pull over shirt. I should have been more aware of my outfit as the shirt had shrunk and I had trouble keeping my tummy hidden. The jeans, as were the other pants I bought from the kids department were low slung from crotch to waist line. They rode just below my hips. These too had shrunk a bit and were short, almost half way up on my ankles. Of course my shoes were high top Keds. I wore no socks and my underpants were my usual white briefs. They had to be briefs because otherwise they would stick out of the low slung jeans.

Note pad and pens in my shoulder bag off I went. I was looking forward to meeting Ellen.

Soon I was at my destination and knocking on her door. I was pleasantly surprised when a delicate boi opened the door. She was beautiful for being a male. Her face was heart shaped and her make-up impeccable. Soft plump lips were lined and painted. Eyes dark and mysterious, almost slutty. The light brown pixie hair-do framed her face. She wore a mauve dressing gown and open toed sandals. I noticed her finger nail color matched her painted toe nails.

"You must be Johnnie," she said hugging me. "I feel like I already know you."

With that she kissed me on my mouth. I was startled at first but found comfort in the intimacy I had not known since mother passed.

In our hug, I noticed her lack of breasts.

"Max will love you," she said as she led me to her living room. "He'll be here later. I hope you get the chance to meet him."

"Who is Max?," I asked.

"My owner. He won me in an auction. My previous owner decided that he had had enough of me and took me to a bar and auctioned me off. Max paid $5.50 for me."

Trying not to show my astonishment I asked how she felt being owned. "No one should own a person," I said.

"Honey, once you get hooked on real men's cocks, you're lucky if one of them claims you."

I watched Ellen as she crossed her shapely legs. Her dressing gown had opened to mid thigh and I saw a flash of pink panty. My own little dick twitched at seeing this sexy girly man.

Ellen rose and got us each a flute of white wine. As she set mine down, her gown opened at the top. I could see her chest. Like my own, hers was devoid of hair. Her nipples were pink and hard.

"Yes Johnnie. I have no breasts. I'm not a transgender. Nor am I a homosexual. I'm a sissy and I dress and act as feminine as I can for my man. He doesn't want a woman. His passion stems from having bois like me service he and whomever else he decides for me."

I asked her why if she was not a homosexual did she have sex with men.

"Dear boy," she began." "I would have preferred to be born more masculine than I was. My failings as a man and my tiny boi clit sealed my fate. Femme bois like me shouldn't be permitted the delicious satisfaction of cumming in a pussy. It takes a while but most of us arrive at the conclusion that the only sex we're deserving of is that which our real men force upon us."

She giggled when I asked if she was a prostitute. "No silly boy. I may be Max's whore but I'm no longer a prostitute."

Ellen was at ease with me and I with her. She began to ask me questions. "Why are you interested Johnnie? Do you have some latent sissy in you?"

I stammered out a no but she didn't buy it. "I can tell by the way you dress and keep yourself that it may not be latent at all."

Just then there was a knock on the door. Ellen went to answer it in a flourish.

Entering the house was a rather large and muscular man. Ellen greeted him as an old friend and introduced him to me.

"Johnnie, this is Rick. He's a friend of Max and he needs some of my time. Please excuse me for a few minutes."

They went to what I assumed was a bedroom. After a couple minutes I could hear Rick moaning, "that's good faggot. Suck that cock. Work it bitch. Oh yeah."

I became a bit uncomfortable with the dialogue but listened intently in the name of scientific research.

After a bit I could hear Ellen groaning and begging Rick to fuck her. "Go big man. Take my fairy boi pussy. Pump it Daddy. Fill me with your cum."

On and on it went until the obvious grunting and groaning out of their orgasms.

For some reason unknown to me my own little dick hardened as I listened.

A few minutes later they emerged. Rick was tucking his shirt in as Ellen escorted him to the door. "Thanks Ellen. I needed that."

Then he was gone.

Ellen explained to me that Rick, being a friend of Max, had carte blanche to come over for relief. "Max told me to treat Rick as I would Max himself."

I could tell that Ellen had enjoyed her time with Rick because her composure was off a little and she looked distracted.

"Ellen, it didn't appear as though Rick had to force himself on you."

"Johnnie do I look like I can fight? Big men have been forcing me into homosexual acts since I was of age. I can't fight them. I have resigned myself that being used by them is my fate. For my own personal safety I try to give them what they want."

We talked some more about loyalty and fidelity to real men and particular her availability to those men Max had permitted to use her.

"Oh sweetie," Ellen said. "I never know who or when but Max told me to always be ready to serve. I'm like a Boy Scout, always be prepared."

I left soon thereafter without meeting Max. We agreed to meeting again in a few days. Ellen gave me a quick peck on my lips saying good bye and I thought I could taste cock. Suspicion or wishful thinking. I was unsure.

On the bus ride home I penned my notes. The memory of Ellen's attire and the flash of her panty burned in my brain. It was sexy and it was intriguing. Her willingness to pleasure Rick even though I was there left me with questions regarding modesty and pride. I made a mental note to ask her about these and other questions.

Two days later and I'm back at the agreed time. Ellen greeted me at the door with a squeal of excitement, a warm embrace, and a soulful kiss on the lips.

I noted her attire. Today she was wearing a flowing pant suit. Black and soft, I figured it was made of silk. The elephant bell bottoms flowed around her feet as she seemed not to walk but float about the room. The legs were slit on the sides up to her waist. When she moved I could see the tops of her thigh high hose and a bit of black panty. The flash of pink I saw on my last visit came back to me. My own little dick started to get hard. I needed to get back to work or I'd become so distracted I'd get nothing accomplished today.

"You look beautiful Ellen," I managed to say. "I love the outfit. If I may, can I ask you some questions regarding our previous visit and Rick?"

She took my hand in her soft manicured grasp and led me to the couch. I sat in the corner of it and Ellen joined me, curling her legs under her. The slit provided me with a view of her nylon covered legs and the edge of her panties. She smiled sweetly and told me, "go ahead and ask Johnnie."

"Thank you Ellen," I began. "This may seem like I'm prying and please understand that I'm not judging but I have to ask this. Why did you so readily have sex with Rick knowing I could hear? I mean why weren't you a little more modest?"

Ellen tsk tsked me. "Johnnie, baby doll. A sissy loses her pride and leaves her modesty behind early in the process. Real men like to use and abuse us. Public humiliation and public displays of submission are required in the sissy and Real man dynamic. By humiliating us publicly, the Real man shows others that he is in fact an alpha and displays his ownership of that particular sissy."

Going on Ellen explained, "we're not men baby doll. But we're also not necessarily homosexual either. Pleasing and serving Real men is our lot in life. All sissies expect verbal and physical abuse due to our lack of masculinity. Some, Johnnie, like me would rather be with women but my tiny boi clit prohibits any woman wanting to be with me. So you may think of me a surrogate pussy for Real men."

"But Ellen", I asked. "If you're not gay, how come you enjoy it. I mean I heard you and Rick the last time I was here."

Ellen brought her right foot to my lap and I knew she could feel my little erection. "Johnnie, dear sweet boi, I did enjoy it. I am addicted to the abuse and depraved sexual acts Real men have me perform for their pleasure. Those acts, Johnnie, reinforce the submissive person I am and that I should be. Contrary to what you may think I'm not offended at all by the names they call me or the way they use me and then just leave. I'm actually grateful for their attention however brief it may be. That a Real man would come to me for his release and pleasure is high praise of my allure, submission, and sexuality."

I was having a hard time scribbling my notes, distracted by the pretty foot rubbing my dick.

Our time passed quickly and I soon found myself saddened by the fact that it was time for me to leave.

"Can I come back Ellen?"

"I hope you do baby doll." Then she gathered me in her arms and kissed me again. Her hands found my plump ass and she held me there during our good bye kiss.

This kiss lasted longer than the others which were by comparison quick pecks. It felt natural for me to respond to her intimate treatment. I enjoyed our kiss.

It was a long bus ride home and once there, I organized my notes and masturbated to thoughts of Ellen and the leg show she had given me. I was developing feelings for her that were not, nor should they be, part of my research.

I had learned a lot and was coming to understand the aspect of being a true sissy. I found certain parts difficult to accept such as the public humiliation and lack of modesty. But remember, I'd been brought up by a single mother who was rigid in her discipline and almost Quaker in her feelings toward society as a whole. I was no stranger to corporal punishment. Mother was quick with a strap. So my reluctance to Ellen's public persona was subjective rather than objective as it should have been.

I resolved to try harder to cast my personal feelings aside. After all was said and done, Ellen was a delicate and beautiful creature who had wonderful qualities. I felt us kindred spirits.

I checked my email the next day and saw that Ellen had sent me a message. I opened it and found an attached photo. I opened the attachment and got a shock. The pic showed Ellen sitting on the floor. Next to her was a big soft cock. It had to be 8" and so big around. The balls behind it looked to be the size of key limes.

The caption said simply, "baby doll this is the reward for being a sissy."

My dick twitched and I quickly closed the pic.

Doing my chores and working on my dissertation that day I kept thinking of the photo and finally went back to my computer and opened that attachment again.

I studied the cock, I made note of Ellen's satisfied expression. I also noticed the thick, manly thighs connected to that wonderful cock. Dark hair covered them. They looked to be very sturdy. A real man I thought, using Ellen's term. I could see why she'd say that.

Then I studied Ellen herself. She looked so relaxed, so at home kneeling beside the huge cock. She had a mischievous look as she smiled for the camera. I thought she was looking right at me. Bare chested, her nipples hardened, she was more beautiful in this photo than in real life. I wondered to myself if it was the cock she had with her that made her seem more sexy or my knowing she had submitted to that cock.

My head spun and my mouth watered. I wanted to kiss her, to be kissed by her. Never having had a sexual partner before, I wanted to give my virginity to Ellen.