Wednesday, March 01, 1995

Fiction: Commies, Redux

No, that's not quite right.

. . . the girls derided me after I came so quickly, and chained me back up.  They began to laugh at me as I hung there.  They began to put makeup on my face, and shave my body, and say that I might as well be a girl, I'm so useless with them.

They pushed the joke even further by occasionally touching my prick and watching me come just as quickly again.  They said I was sexier this way.  I was ashamed, but they knew that, and forced me to wear their clothes.  they always masturbated me when they did this.  When I grew back my body hair, they treated me like shit, like an imposter of manhood.  I might as well be a girl, they said, and dressed me up again.  It came to the point where I was so nervous about growing back my body hair, and in short, appearing more masculine, that I couldn't come anymore at all when I was masculine.  Only when they seemed to enjoy me more , that is, when shaven, made up, and wearing their dainty little lacy and silky lingerie that I could come.  

The reality of this perplexed and shamed me at first, but I grew accustomed.  I begged to be shaven and effeminated constantly.  They complied, thinking this to be quite phenomenal.  They responded very positively to me when I was feminine.  I began to perceive this, and begged to wear their clothing.  They complied and fucked me.  Eventually, the Officer asked me if I felt that I had changed at all since my capture, if I repented for fighting on the wrong side.

"I'll never repent!  Under my system, I always had the freedom to do what I want!  Here your dissidents are chained and tortured."  I said this with a girlish air, trying to be feminine to impress the girls.

"Oh?  Would you return then, to your homeland, as you are, and forsake your new way of life?  Don't answer now.  We will release you tomorrow, and you can do as you wish."

I hesitated.  I looked at myself, and realized that I was becoming a transsexual.  I was wearing women's clothes and enjoying it.  Enjoying it tremendously.  It was, as a matter of fact, the most thrilling sexual experience that I had ever had.  But I had to escape.  I was, after all, free!

When they unbound me, I began to set out for home.  They had supplied me with my old uniform, but I felt unnatural in it, especially the gitch.  So I bought some girl's stuff, and put it on for my return.  I felt so much better in girl's panties, a bra, some nice stockings, a miniskirt and makeup.  I also preferred the perfume and jewelry.  But I realized that I still seemed masculine.  The people here didn't care.  I got no double takes or weird looks.  I even saw some other transsexuals.  It was normal here.  I returned to the officer's, to meet with the girls again.  I threw myself at their feet, begging for their forgiveness.  I would stay with them for ever, so that they could show me the ways of femininity.  I aspired to be a girl now, after all of their incredible praise and adulation for my femininity.  They agreed.

Since then, I have begun to take estrogen, and other hormones which will make me grow tits, and shrink my waist, and distribute my body fat accordingly.  But I refuse to ever have a sex change.  I need my penis.  I have become the girls sex slave:  they turned out to be lesbians, and they love fucking girls.  But they also want to feel something hard in their cunts.  That's where I come in.  I look and act and feel like a girl, except for my dick.  I love being transsexual.  Even the Officer finds me beautiful now.  Just yesterday, I seduced him. . .

Fiction: Captured by Commies!

The Communists brought me into their CO's office in chains.  I had managed to avoid being wounded, and he seemed impressed at my bulk and machismo.

"My, a healthy ladies' man, no doubt?"

I refused to answer.

"Leave him here with me.  I certainly have some use for him."

The soldiers left and I was alone with the Officer, chained to the ceiling by my hands and to the floor by my feet.  He looked me up and down with disgust, and spat upon my uniform.  "So, you think of yourself as the devout Capitalist soldier, eh?  I shall endeavor to change your mind, my friend, before I release you to your kind.  But first, you must tell me everything that you know."

"I am Sergeant Andrew T. Manley of the 101st Airborne Division.  My serial Number is AY345-9833-098-001."

"But of course.  I suppose that you know nothing else, hmm?"  I remained silent, defiantly.  "I have ways of making you talk, Sargeant.  I do not want to resort to barbarism.  Please, to make things easier for the both of us. . . talk!"

Still, I kept my mouth shut, and stewed with anger.

"Well, if it must be so, then you have only yourself to blame."

He tightened the chains, and I was stretched out completely.  He pressed a button on his desk, and two beautiful women emerged, dressed in scanty little mini-skirts.  They tore off my clothes at the Officer's command.  They both giggled.  I hadn't seen a woman in weeks.  I popped an instant woody.  "What is so funny, girls?  So you find him attractive?"  They nodded yes.  "Then you can play with him later.  First, we shall have some fun of our own."

The three proceeded to engage in the most incredible menage a trois I had ever seen.  I was so horny that I could hardly handle it.  They all looked at me and laughed at me, for missing out.  

This went on every day, in fact, and I just stayed there chained.  The girls fed me only the tiniest bits of food, enough to keep me alive, and always cuddled me a bit, makeing me even hornier.  This went on for so long that I can't even imagine how many days it was.  I must have lost most of my bulk, because I almost escaped from my bonds one time, being so much skinnier.

One day, he looked at my erect cock, and asked me if I wanted sex.  By now I answered him when he asked such things, because he had me in his power.  I answered in the affirmative.  He let me fuck the girls.  I was overjoyed, but as soon as my dick touched their heavenly bodies, I came.  Back into the chains I went, totally unfulfilled.  For the next aeon, he teased me much as he did before, by having the girls touch me sensuously, but never letting me release.  I was going nuts for sex, for their sex.

One day, he brought in another soldier.  He was totally obedient to his CO, and, upon command, sucked my dick in front of the Officer and the girls.  I was disgusted, and he sucked on and on and on, until I came, just for the release.  He swallowed.  The girls laughed at me, and called me a homosexual.  From then on, they perpetually derided me.  They were now violent with me when they fed me.  That made me want them even more, to prove my manhood.  But the cocksucker kept coming back, first in a week, then six days, then five, then four, and eventually daily.  I became used to him, and closed my eyes thinking of the girls as he blew me.  I enjoyed it so much, and I always convinced myself that the girls were behind it.  I fantasized about them only.  At first.

Then I began to realize that they were infernal bitches, and looked forward to my usual blowjob by the male soldier.  To my horror, I began to fantasize about him.  I grew to accept his sucking me, though, and the fact that I enjoyed it.  But it took a long time.

Soon later, the Officer untied me, and allowed me to have sex.  He gave me a choice: the girls, or the man.  To prove my masculinity to the stupid sluts, I fucked them.  But they were unresponsive, as if I were unable to titillate them at all.  I couldn't even come, the event was so horribly humbling.  I went back to my chains, mortified.  I would get them.  The officer allowed this weekly, and each time I took the girls, and each time, they humiliated me.  Finally, I gave up, and went to the guy.  He started by sucking my dick, and then fondled it, and snuggled up to me, and I reluctantly reciprocated.  I fucked him up the ass with shame, came for the first time in ages, and went back to my chains.  I could no longer come with the girls, but the guy was being quite responsive.  I began to enjoy it, and fervently.  Eventually, the girls were simply no longer an option.  I had to fuck the guy.  I would suck him and fuck him and thoroughly enjoy it.

One day, he demanded to fuck me.  I complied reluctantly, but soon it became a mutual thing: I would fuck him, and he would fuck me.  I was now a total fag.

But the girls started to act funny.  They were even more violent to me, and they seemed to saddle up to him all the time, as if they could seduce him.  I was jealous!

He fucked them right in front of me, and I was outraged.  I struggled to tear free of my bonds to kill the sluts, but it was useless.  He was totally satisfied, more than I had ever seen him.

When I was allowed to fuck him, he refused at first, saying that the girls were so much better, that they would let him do the fucking and really enjoy it, and not want to stick anything in his ass.  Furthermore, he revealed to me that he preferred pussy.  I was outraged, but I couldn't do without him.  So I promised to let him fuck me, and that I would try to be more feminine.

Thereafter, I asked the Officer if he could arrange to have my legs shaved, and the rest of my body too.  My hair had already grown quite long.  He complied.  The girls shaved me, laughing derisively at me, reminding me of what a man I used to be.  I resented being called a man.  I beseeched them to show me how to be feminine.  They did.  I began to wear their clothes.

This was the ultimate in femininity.  I was totally in drag, and I came all over myself when I could.  I seduced him as a girl, and he was again very warm to me.  The Officer supplied me with estrogen, and I grew tits and developed a waist.  I was a transsexual.  And I liked it.  But they never let me get a sex change.  I remain this way to this day, free in their system, ever grateful for their turning me into something better: a girl.