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When the first pair of panties arrived in the mail, suffice to say I was perplexed. My first thought was that they must have come to me by mistake. But when I looked at the address label, I saw they were addressed to me by name.

I held them up and admired the fine lacework; navy blue which contrasted nicely with the light blue body of the garment. A nice brief panty from La Perla. “Expensive,” I said out loud to no one there.

A tag fell out. I picked it up and read it: “johnnie, these should fit you nicely”.

“What the fuck,?” I thought. “Fit me?”

I was surprised because I’d never given panties a thought other than to pull them off my ex-wife.

I dropped them on the kitchen table and went out to run my Saturday errands. Still, all the stops and shopping I did, what I got in the mail stayed with me.

Once back home I placed those panties in the top-drawer of my china cupboard.

I called out for a pizza and went to get it. “Extra cheese and pepperoni, just what I needed after a long several weeks.

I ate my pizza with a glass of red wine. I had the next two weeks off and besides the strange mail I received, nothing was bothering me.

I’d recently filed for divorce after my wife left me for some guy she’d been fucking behind my back for what she said was only a month. I suspected it was longer but why quibble.

Her parting words still stung. “He’s got a cock johnnie. A nice big cock. Your little pink thing belongs in panties not pussies.”

“Panties,” she said. Maybe she sent them out of spite. I called her cell. She answered after 4 rings, “What do you want cuckold?”

“I got your present Cindy.”

“What the fuck are you talking about you tiny dicked fuck?”

“Remember what you said as you left? Remember saying my dick belonged in panties, not pussies? Well slut, I got the panties you sent.”

“What the fuck are you talking about,?” she asked again.

“You mean they didn’t come from you?”

“After 5 years of your excuses for your poor performance in bed and that bitchy little hissy fit you threw when you walked in on Jason and me, you think I’d spend money or take the time? You had the perfect opportunity to join us, to be a willing cuckold little dicked husband. But not you. You acted like a little bitch, crying and stomping off. Now you think I’m sending you panties. What the fuck is wrong with you johnnie?”

“Nothing Cin but I did get…”

“Shut the fuck up and leave me alone.”


“Okay, so maybe it wasn’t her. But who else then?”

I watched TV for a couple hours before going online. Checking my personal email, I saw I had one from an unknown person. “secret Admirer@gmail.

“Hmm. Should I open this,” I wondered.

I toyed with the idea of deleting it without opening it. Maybe though there might be a clue as to who sent those panties. Still, I was hesitant. I have dealt with virus’ before.

I opened and read or simply deleted the many messages I expected to find and came back to the one I was unsure of.

“Fuck it. What the worst that could happen?”

When I opened the email it began:

“johnnie. I have long admired you from afar. I just found out that the slut you were married to walked out on you. Good for you. She doesn’t deserve a sweet caring person like you. I sent you the panties today. I hope you like them. I know they’ll fit just right. Your tiny package and cute round bottom belong in something soft and feminine.

Hugs and kisses sweet boi.”

I read and re-read that email searching for a word, expression, something that might give me a clue to who sent it. The grammar was too correct for my ex to have written it. Who then?

I showered but my mind was working overtime trying to figure out who my secret admirer might be.

I dried off in front of the full-length mirror. Yes, my penis was little. I admit that and Cindy knew it before she said yes and we got hitched. My waist was only a 29 but my hips and butt were full, “too full for a guy’s,” I thought to myself. Although I was only 5’7″ and my weight proportionate, I had trouble dating before I met Cindy.

I wasn’t a bad looking man. A full head of hair but hardly any peach fuzz on my lithe body. I had bright blue eyes, dimples when I smiled with my full lips. I wasn’t what some would call ruggedly handsome but all the girls in my family used to tell me I was cute. So I had that going for me, I guess.

I slept soundly that night and the next morning I pulled on my tight black bike pants and blue T-shirt and left the house to go roller blading in the park.

I tightened my helmet and when satisfied, off I went. A concrete path surrounded the small lake and I sped around it in the early morning when there was little pedestrian traffic to slow me down.

After working up a sweat I decided I had enough for now and took my blades off and walked home.

It was a beautiful morning; the kind of morning when one felt anything was possible.

Back home maltepe escort I showered off the sweat from the workout and changed into some gym shorts.

I went to my PC with no other thought than to check my email and read the news.

There was again. An email addressed to me from my secret admirer. This time I opened it figuring the first one wasn’t infected; this one will probably be safe as well.

It read:


Baby, it’s time you understand that all who know you do not now, nor have ever considered you a man. Not a real man, johnnie. Your little flap of a penis is well known among your friends, family, and co-workers. I can’t think of a person who doesn’t know the reason Cindy left you and succumbed so easily to Jason’s charm and big black cock.”

“Man, fuck this,” I thought. “I don’t need this crap.” But the start of the next paragraph caught my eye and I continued reading:

“johnnie, dear sweet johnnie, please baby, for your sake consider giving up your pretense of being a man. It does not suit you and serves you no good purpose except to postpone the inevitable. I have attached a few photos of what you would look like should you have the courage to face your future. You need only to surrender to those latent desires that you have so neatly tucked away in your subconscious.

I implore you johnnie, look at the photos, research transvestism, and give yourself, body and soul, mind and spirit to serving cocks. Believe me baby, you’ll make a better girly boi than you ever made trying in vain to prove to the world that you’re a man.”

That was it, the end of the vile message. Me? Serve cocks? Humph.

But I did look at the pics attached but only out of curiosity mind you. Pictures of guys built like me in pretty panties, some also wearing hose and garters posing. Their sexy bottoms prominent, tiny penis’ visible through the sheer material.

I looked at those photos for a good half hour before realizing I myself was erect. I quickly closed the attachments though not deleting them. I figured I might need them for evidence later.

The next day there were no obscene emails and nothing in the mail for which I was relieved.

But on Tuesday I received another thick envelope in the mail. “I already know what’s in here,” I thought in disgust.

I was right. A pretty pair of boy cut panties. Black mesh designed to give whomever may be looking a peek-a-boo of my penis.

“Wait a damned minute John. My penis? Dude. What the fuck are you thinking? And who the hell is sending me these?”

But there was one thought that disturbed me more than getting panties in the mail. The email said that everyone, family, friends, co-workers knew I had a tiny dick and that they all thought I’d make a better faggot than I ever had being a man.

But I was a man, wasn’t I? I mean, Wasn’t I? This has to be someone’s idea of a joke, a prank. “Some asshole is getting a good laugh,” I decided.

I opened my email figuring to see yet another bogus message. There was none. I found that I was disappointed. It was kind of fun seeing that “secret admirer’s” feeble attempts to convince me I would make a better cock sucker than what I actually am.

“Ding”, my computer alerted me that I had a new message.

My heart raced as I opened it:

“johnnie darling:

by now you have been going crazy by what you’ve been experiencing. Poor baby. Transitioning is difficult but once you’ve accepted your true destiny and learn to be what nature intended you to be, you’ll be so much happier, so free. Please baby girl, before you lose your mind, watch the short videos attached. See yourself johnnie girl. Be yourself sweet baby. I want you to imagine yourself on your knees sucking the cocks like those bois in the clips. I want you to see how happy they appear to be. I want you to see the look in their eyes as they look up at the man johnnie, the real man whose cock they are worshipping. Those are not the looks of shame johnnie. In their eyes they show desire to please, hope for considerations, and most of all, the look of promise to faithfully give themselves to his cock. See how pretty they are in their panties. That can be you johnnie. That should be you.

Trust me baby girl. I want you to do something for me, and for you. I want you to go to where ever you’ve stashed your panties, that’s right johnnie. Your panties baby. Put a pair on. Look at yourself in the mirror. I want you to see your full and luscious lips, those cock welcoming lips of your johnnie. Smile at yourself baby girl. Smile and say hello to the sweet sissy you see peering back at you with those soft come-hither eyes. See the beautiful cock slurping faggot reflected in your mirror johnnie. Turn to the side. See how sexy, how enticing your fat bottom will be to men johnnie. Real men who desire to stuff those puffy lips, that sexy boi pussy with big succulent cocks. Lastly johnnie, I want you to look down at your pathetic excuse for manhood between your sexy legs. mamak escort Tell me you aren’t hard. Harder than you’ve ever been. Don’t lie and say something stupid like, it’s only morning wood. I know the truth and deep within, you also know the truth. The next step will be for you to accept that truth as yours.

Hug and kisses

secret admirer.”

Jesus Christ. I was hard now just reading that shit. I stood and walked away from my PC not wanting to open the video clips for fear of how I might react. I was starting to get confused.

I paced. I swore. I cried. I swore some more. Although it was not yet noon, I went to my liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Vodka. A wee bit of ice and a full 8 ounces of my clear, soothing liquid friend.

Then another. By 1 PM that afternoon I was buzzing. Drinking like I did was probably not the smartest thing I’d ever done. It lowered my inhibitions. Made me think foolish thoughts. “Perhaps they know of what they speak,” I laughed.

The videos were eye opening. Indeed, those sissies sucked with loving care. The look in their eyes spoke of gratitude and more. I saw the look of acceptance, peace, and fulfilment.

Another video clip showed a sissy being double teamed. A large black cock parted his smiling lips as another fucked his boi pussy. The look of lust shone in the sissy’s eyes. Little high-pitched squeals of delight emanated from around that beautiful cock as those men, “Real men,” my admirer called them, took their pleasure from the kneeling pretty boi.

The last video showed a beautiful woman lying on the stomach of a black man, his cock firmly lodged in her pussy. A sissy was furiously licking both the exposed cock, the big balls, and her cunt as she watched him.

I saw her bouncing breasts, her quivering thighs, the wanton look of pure lust on her face. But I also saw a young man, he couldn’t be older than me, lovingly attending to the pair of lovers.

I watched that clip over and over, my dick throbbing with the need for relief. I was fascinated by the trio and in particular the happy sissy. There was a contented look on her face. A look I’d never had on my face.

An old famous saying sprang to mind, “If no one knows whether or not you’re a fool, why open your mouth and remove all doubt?”

And yes, doubt was in me, growing, clouding my judgement. Maybe they’re right. Maybe.

I was pacing again when I heard the ding of a new email.

“johnnie girl,

I bet you’re all sweaty, pacing, maybe even drinking this early in the day. Doubt has crept into your thoughts that I might just know what I’m telling you. Put them on johnnie. Put your panties on and do as I asked. What do you have to lose baby girl? Nothing. You have nothing at all to lose. Now be a good girl and do as momma says.


What did I have to lose? Whomever that is emailing was right about that. I had nothing to lose.

I went to the panty drawer and brought out both pair. I held them behind my back, switching them from one hand to the other until I didn’t know which pair was in which hand. “The right hand,” I decided.

I looked down at the sheer mesh boi-shorts.

Excitement was building in me as I stripped and pulled them up my legs and over my hips and buns.

Whoever sent these knows my size. They felt perfect. I rubbed my bottom and liked the way my bottom felt through the soft mesh.

I went to the mirror and looked at myself. Those boi-shorts looked perfect on me. The felt very nice too. I turned sideways and admired my soft fat bottom. Exercise had not tightened my buns one iota. They were as always, soft to the touch.

I liked the way those panties rode low on my wide hips. My little dick looked sexy. Hard, it was pressed against the front panel. I knew if I attended to my need at that moment my sexy mood would dissipate.

Maybe it was the Vodka, perhaps it was all those sex filled emails and videos. Who knew? I denied myself the pleasure of masturbating and paraded around the house in my panties. I had to be honest with myself. I’d never felt so aroused, so excited, so sexy before. I almost wished that whoever it was that sent me these could see me in them. Almost wished.

I went back to my favorite video and watched that pretty girly-boi make love to the crotches of both man and woman. That big black cock, shining with the moisture of a hungry pussy, the sissy’s lips glossed, her face smeared with the results of their fuck.

I rubbed myself through my panties and imagined that it was me, me johnnie girl, lavishing both that cock and pussy. I pursed my lips and made sucking motions as I watched that clip over and over while playing with my little erection through the soft material.

Needless to say, I did masturbate that night. For the first time in my life I thought a bubble bath would feel nice. I lay in the warm water, my eyes closed, my fist around my dick and gave myself the pleasure I deserved.

My orgasm was most satisfying. ankara ofise gelen escort I fixed a TV dinner and tried to focus on the late news.

My mind wandered back to the videos and I found myself once again immersed in arousing spectacle of sissies and cocks.

I explore the internet and found that there are many such girly-boys out there and that it was widely accepted by society.

I read many articles which discussed the roles that bois play. I learned that sissies received pleasure from giving. Pleasing real man was their reward. Sissies, I read have an unquenchable thirst for sperm. One article postulated that the sissy ingested the sperm from real men in the false theory that by drinking the sperm of real men they may become real men themselves.

Another article argued against that saying that sissies have a natural craving for men to fill them with sperm; the same craving women have to have intercourse with men with cocks. “Sissies have been known to recycle their own weak seed when alone or under the strict supervision of whomever might have claimed them.

Claimed them? The thought was provoking. I searched for claiming sissies and found a plethora of information on that subject.

Most authors agreed that a sissy, alone in the world simply cannot fulfill their primary function. That function is pleasing real men. A real man can claim a sissy should he so desire. That sissy, in turn, will live only to please that claimant. The sissy needs and seeks approval, praise, and what little undeserved considerations his master may wish to bestow upon his sissy.

There were many pictures of sissies either claimed by some real men or those married to women who have devoted their bodies to the pleasure of men to whom they are not wedded. In some instances, it was the wife who helped her husband realize his true purpose and although they remain married, it is only in name. She sees a man or men, depending her sexual appetite with whom she permits her sissy to serve and service. The symbiotic relationship satisfies the needs of both the wife and her sissy husband. The real winner, the article said, was the man with the big cock receiving the pleasure from both wife and husband.

I saw photos of actual sissies dressed to the nines. There were pics of sissies with budding little titties. Sissies in chastity, and many, oh so many of pretty sissies in their sexy lingerie.

To say I was mesmerized would be an understatement. I was more than fascinated and wondered if I really had those qualities, the skills and talents required of sissies.

I learned that fortunate sissies lead a life devoted to the pleasure of others. Lives filled with discipline, spankings, humiliations. Lives in which the sissy must be content to seek permission to pleasure herself, to be told what to wear, where to be, who to service.

All of these things, the article continued, would be considered cruel by normal people in normal relationships. The sissy understands she is not normal. She is special and as such, she requires and deserves special care and handling. A good and proper sissy know she is to be punished for any and all missteps,, real or perceived by whomever it is that controls her.

I shivered at those words but in the back of my mind, I knew I my shivering wasn’t out of fear but arousal. That I could become so attuned to what I was reading made me rethink those emails. My antagonist might know me better than I know myself. That, I’d read, was a trait of many a potential sissy.

My head was spinning when it hit the pillow. I dreamt that I had been claimed by a beautiful woman who in turn had been black owned. I had a wet dream, serving both he and she while they enjoyed each other’s bodies.

I awoke in a sweat with my new panties wet from my dreaming.

I showered and without hesitation went to get my other panties.

My God but they looked great on me. My body, my frame was made for them. I decided then and there that I would remain at home in only my pretty panties that day.

I turned on my PC with the thought of reading more on my research but saw I had a couple emails.

I read those from family who asked how I was. I wrote a perfunctory reply that I was fine and opened the email I’d been hoping to see from my “secret admirer”.

“Dear sweet johnnie:

If I am any judge of character, by now you’ve done as momma instructed and tried on your new panties, inspected yourself in the mirror and gave yourself little sissy orgasms. Good girl. Today I have another assignment for my pretty girl. I want her, you, to take a selfie in your panties and send it to me in reply to this email. I want that photo pronto missy. Failure will result in my discarding you and you will never hear from me again. I have every confidence that I will receive that selfie in the next ten minutes johnnie.

You may expect another package today sweet girl. I have decided I want my sissy to have a whole new ensemble. An outfit worthy of my pretty little faggot sissy. I have included a prop with which I expect, no, make that I demand you become familiar with, so much so that you practice for two hours each and every day until you have mastered your calling. I needn’t say what it is baby girl. You’ll know it when you unwrap it.

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