Cum Clean, Leave Fullbydarkheathyr©
The following tale of sexual depravity contains adult material. If you are under the legal age for your area (generally 18 or 21), or object to explicit sex, stop reading NOW. Otherwise, if erotic situations and taboo acts turn you on, then please enjoy yourself. The characters and situations are, of course, completely fictitious.
This work should be considered copyright 2011 Sissy Princess Heathyr.
Okay, I've been a bad sissy princess for making you all wait so long, but hopefully it was all worth it. If you haven't read Like Mother, Like Sissy (the first Sissy Princess Sperm Whore Story), you may want to go back and give it a read. You don't have to have read it to enjoy this, the second Sissy Princess Sperm Whore Story, but I think it will add to your enjoyment.
Cum Clean, Leave Full
A Sissy Princess Sperm Whore Story
I've always been a sound sleeper.
It probably has a lot to do with my mom's lifestyle, and with our respect for each other's privacy. It's not that I taught myself to sleep deeply so I wouldn't have to hear her coming in at all hours of the night, or so I wouldn't have to hear her screams of ecstasy as she swallowed one black cock after another in her every hole. It was more that I didn't want to intrude, or somehow ruin the moment, by accidentally making my presence known to her lovers.
Anyway, being such a sound sleeper, I really have no idea how long she sat there, her arms wrapped around her legs, with her head resting on her knees, just watching me. I'm not even sure what it was that woke me up. Yeah, I smelled the cum leaking into her panties the moment I awoke, but I don't think it was strong enough to pull me from my sleep.
Although it may have accounted for that last dream I had before waking.
Anyway, the moment I opened my eyes, she looked down at me and favored me with a half-smile. I instantly knew something was wrong. She didn't look like herself. She looked anxious and sad, and maybe even a bit disappointed. I hoped it was nothing I had done, but I suspected there was something we were going to need to talk about.
"Good morning, Heath."
My heart immediately caught in my throat. I could count on one hand the number of times she had called me by my given name in the last year, and none of them were happy occasions. When we talked, she usually referred to me with cute little terms of affection, like sweetie, honey, baby, cutie, and (most recently) sissy. 'Heath' was reserved for when we had something serious to discuss, whereas my full name - Heath Ernest Randolph - was reserved for when I had done something seriously wrong.
I hadn't heard that name in years.
"What's wrong, mom?" I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, determined to focus.
She favored me with that half-smile again. "Nothing."
That heart that was caught in my throat? It just swelled to twice its normal size, and felt about ready to burst! Not only did she look upset, and not only had she used my name, but she had just outright lied to me. We might have secrets, and we might not always offer them up, but we never lied to one another. Never.
Now I was worried. Had she had a change of heart regarding my recent adoption of her lifestyle? Had something happened to make her doubt whether a whore for big black cock really wanted a sissy princess sperm whore for a son?
"Mom." I reached out and placed my hands over hers. Even with the tension in the room, I couldn't help but admire her long, perfectly red fingernails. Mine were cute and pink, which I absolutely loved, but still short. "What is it? What has you so upset that first you'd call me Heath, and then you'd lie to me?"
Realization dawned in her eyes. Clearly, it had all been instinctive and unconscious on her part -- she was so distracted by whatever was bothering her, she hadn't even been aware of what she was saying. Suddenly, she melted before my eyes, tears running down her face even as a real, authentic, honest smile spread across her face. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
"It's okay, mom." I adjusted my pink baby-doll as I sat up and squeezed her hand. "It's okay, I swear it. Tell me what's on your mind."
"Darnel wants you down at the warehouse today, on-set, and ready to assist with Alicia's gangbang."
I was a little embarrassed to have done it in front of my mom, but I creamed my panties a bit at just the thought of what 'assisting' might entail. I immediately wondered, though, if that's why she was upset. Was she really questioning what I had become?
She must have seen the question in my eyes, because she denied it before I could even ask. "I'm not upset with you, honey. Not at all. I know how much you've wanted this, and I know how much Darnel wants you involved." She turned her hands over and squeezed my own in hers. "I know this is probably an awful thing for a mother to tell her son, but I am so proud of my little sissy princess, so proud of my little sperm whore."
I smiled at that and squeezed back. "Then what's wrong, mom?"
"It's just . . . well . . ." She paused for a long moment, before continuing. "It's just that today was finally going to be my turn on camera, my turn to become the next gang bang superstar." She shrugged awkwardly. "I was really looking forward to my moment of celebrity infamy, but Darnel didn't feel it would be appropriate for you to assist with your own mother's gangbang. Even though we wouldn't be intimate, he still felt it would be inappropriate."
"Then take it, take the opportunity." There was no question in my mind. As much as I wanted my moment of sissy infamy, I knew she had been waiting for far longer than me. "Tell Darnel I'm sick, or that I've changed my mind, or that I'm not ready. I don't care what you tell him, just tell him I'm not available, and that you are."
She shook her head and squeezed hard enough to make me squirm. "Don't you even think it, sissy boy. Our black Master wants you on your knees, ready to assist with all those big black cocks, and you are not going to pass up the opportunity."
She immediately cut me off. "No buts! I'll get my chance soon enough, and I'll pester Darnel to get me enough men to set a record!" She dropped her legs to the side, scooted forward, and pulled me into a warm, nurturing embrace. I felt the stiff, well-stained front of her blouse scraping against my chest and smiled at how different we were. She was in it for the cock, for the sucking and the fucking, and thought nothing of walking around with a cum-stained blouse. Me, I was in it for the cum, and would have gladly sucked that blouse clean on the drive home!
"I've had over a decade and a half of being a Whore for Big Black Cock, but my precious little darling has only been a Sissy Princess Sperm Whore for a month and a half."
I shuddered with the thrill of . . . well, not quite humiliation, but acknowledgement. I could hear the capital letters in her voice when she spoke of me, which mean she really had accepted my choice.
"Are you sure?" I would have died if she'd changed her mind, but never would have let it show.
"Of course I'm sure." She smiled at me again, and there was such love there, such pride, I knew our fight was well-and-truly over. "I just hope Alicia understand what a lucky woman she is to have such a beautiful little assistant."
With one last squeeze, she released me from her hug and climbed off the bed. I saw the short leather skirt ride up her ass, revealing the lack of panties beneath -- and the still glistening trail of cum running down her inside thigh. Why it struck me, I don't know, but for the first time I wondered how many morning kisses over the years had been full of cum, and how many of the glazed donuts I'd snuck a bite of over breakfast had boasted her lovers' special glaze. I doubt she ever thought about it, much less planned it, but it explained why I was never able to buy donuts that tasted as good as those stolen bites.
"Woohoo!" She called to me from the doorway, pulling me back to the present. "Come on down and get some breakfast. You have a long day ahead, and not much time to prepare."
Twenty minutes later I was showered, hairless, and standing naked before the kitchen table. I'd just poured myself a bowl of cereal, and was slowly stroking my sissy cock, ready to add the topping to which I'd become so intensely addicted.
"Ah, ah, ah!" Mom slapped my hand away as she passed. "Darnel said none of that. He wants you hot, horny, and hungry when you get there."
"Fine." I knew I was sulking a little bit, but I really felt like I'd been denied something special. I dropped my shoulders and trudged over the fridge, determined to make a show of my disappointment. When I reached in for my pink ice-cube tray, though, it was gone.
"Mom?" I turned from the fridge to see her running hot water down the sink. The steam was visible clear across the room. "Where did my ice cubes go?"
It was her turn to shrug. "I told you, Darnel wants you hungry." She turned off the water, and I immediately smelled the faint tang of melted cum. So much for the added nutrients in my morning glass of orange juice! She sauntered away from the sink, closing the distance between us with her sexiest walk. "His exact words were," she told me, "make sure my sissy princess is hungry enough to smell the cum churning within those big, black ball sacs."
Suddenly, I wasn't nearly so disappointed. Instead, I was hungry.
Oh, so very hungry.
Just as my Master wanted.
"Now, eat your breakfast, then get upstairs and get dressed. We have to have you on-set in two hours, and I have a few errands to run first."
A little while later I stood in my closet, dancing from one foot to another, playing with the lock of hair over my right shoulder. I had never felt less like a boy and more like a true-and-proper sissy in all my life. I felt like a girl going on her first date -- in essence, I guess I was -- and I had no idea what to wear.
Just then, my mom came in, visibly tapping her watch to remind me of the time. "What's taking so long? Get dressed!"
"But what do I wear?" I was almost in tears, I was so nervous. I just knew I had to pick the exact right outfit, or risk disappointing Darnel, and possibly denying myself access to his hot, thick, wonderful, black cum.
"Think about it. What did Darnel say about dedication and pride? What did he say being prepared for people to know what you are?" She waved her hand at my closet. "There must be something in there that a sissy princess would wear."
There was, and I immediately knew what it was. I rummaged in the very back of my closet, withdrawing one of my earliest outfits. I'd kind of outgrown it, graduating to more mature (and publically suitable) feminine attire, but it was precisely what popped into my bimbo brain every time I thought about sucking the cum from a big, hard, black cock.
I quickly slipped into my pink ballerina's outfit, complete with leotards, tights, leg warmers, ballet shoes, and tutu. The tights were a bit sparkly, with the leg warmers a half-shade of pink darker. The tutu, of course, was sparkly and crisp, standing out like I was suspended in a perpetual pirouette. To top it all off, I opened my costume jewelry drawer and pulled out my princess crown.
It was a cheap bit of plastic, painted to look silver, and covered with gaudy fake stones. The moment I saw it at the carnival last summer, I knew I'd had to have it -- no matter what the other guys thought. They never suspected a thing, and had completely believed my story about it being determined to keep it as a reminder of just how rigged those games were.
When I pranced out of the closet, doing an awkward twirl for my mom's amusement, she clapped in delight. "Oh, that is so precious!" She rushed over to give me a hug. "That," she assured me, "just screams sissy princess. If I didn't know you were my eighteen year old son, I would never guess you weren't a teenaged girl." She stood back and laughed. "A tall teenaged girl, with a bit too much upper body definition, but a teenaged girl all the same."
It should have been embarrassing and humiliating to have my mom see me like that, much less talk about me like that, but I'd never felt happier. "Can you do my hair for me, mom? Pig tails? Please?"
She laughed as she began braiding my hair. "Oh, you're just incorrigible!"
When she was done, I readjusted my crown. "Do you think Darnel will approve?"
"Oh, yes." She nodded. "Him and every other black stud on set." I watched her shudder, and knew she was thinking of the delights she was being denied that afternoon, but also saw that she was honestly enjoying my part in things to come.
And to cum.
I had originally balked when she first tried dragging me into the mall, but all it had taken was one quick reminder about being proud, and suddenly I was prancing along, dragging her from store to store. As it turned out, she really didn't have any errands to run -- I think she just wanted to see if I'd go through with it, and how I'd deal with the attention.
At first, the attention did make me a little uncomfortable. Younger teens weren't an issue, because I knew most of them weren't mature enough to appreciate what I had become. They mocked me as a defense mechanism, because taking me seriously would mean admitting to their own taboo thoughts and feelings. At the same time, adults weren't an issue, because I knew most of them had matured beyond the point where the choices I'd made were still available to them. They looked down their noses at mom and me, broadcasting their disapproval for the world to see, because they were jealous of us, and desperately regretting their own lost opportunities.
We were asked politely to leave three stores, and kicked out of two others with threats to call security. By the end of our hour of shopping, we had our own escort of mall-cops, always following a few stores behind. Not necessarily making a nuisance of themselves, but ensuring we were aware of them.
"You know, sissy, it occurs to me that there is one thing missing from your look."
I was confused. She had helped me put on just a hint of makeup before we left the house, but insisted I would have to earn any more. Could that be what she meant? I turned to her, squeezed the hand I'd been so gently holding -- and swinging -- all along, and asked, "What's that, mom?"
She smiled and suddenly pulled me into one of the fanciest jewelry stores in the mall. I'm talking about the kind of store with its own security guard and a single door that can be locked at the push of a button. I thought for sure she was asking for trouble, but then an older red-haired woman came rushing out from behind the counter.
"Jane! So good to see you!" She wrapped my mom in the biggest hug, lifting her off her feet, and spinning her around in the process. "How long has it been?" She finally put mom down, but refused to let go. "This is so weird -- I was just going to call you to see if you were free tonight."
Mom smiled, but I caught the momentary twinge. "As luck would have it, I am free, but I'm afraid we'll have to find our own cream filling." She pulled me close, hugging me to her side. "I don't think you've ever met my son, but he's getting the cream today."
"Oh, you must be so excited!" I was so stunned, I didn't know what to say. Here was this complete stranger -- to me, at least -- talking about our perversions like she would the weather. She looked to be in her early fifties, and was in very good shape. Far more muscular than I, personally, thought looked appropriate on a woman, but she carried it well.
Mom saw my confusion and laughed. "Roxanne is Gay for Black Sperm Holes." Again with the capital letters! I was going to have to practice my own label so I could convey the same emphasis when I talked to others. Then again, there was something deliciously submissive about always being referred to in lowercase. "She's a total lesbian, and wouldn't touch a ten-inch cock with a ten foot pole, but she loves eating loads of black sperm from my pussy."
The other woman nodded frantically. "Oh, yes! The older and slimmer, the better." She trailed a hand down my mom's arm, and then -- to my surprise -- did the same to me. "I suspect you like it a bit fresher than I do, but I think we can agree the taste is divine, can't we?"
I laughed. I really liked this woman. "Yummy!" I agreed.
We continued to chat as she sat me down in the piercing chair, asked what I had in mind, asked what my mom had in mind, and then creatively compromised. By the time she was done, I had a small pink stud in each ear, with a small platinum hoop next to that, and a much larger silver hoop next to that, the three of them tracing a sexy curve up my earlobe.
Roxanne had pushed hard for traditional yellow gold, but mom hadn't worn a piece of yellow gold since the death of my dad. She still had her gold wedding ring, sitting atop his ashes in the urn above our fireplace, but she had told me often enough that she hated the color, and I agreed. There was just something so commonplace and tacky about it. A nice white gold was acceptable, but silver or platinum was idea.
Even if it weren't for her, I still would have made the same choices, as the platinum and silver matched my princess crown beautifully.
As we were getting ready to leave, the red-head pulled my mom aside. It was partly the clutch of a friend desperate to discuss something, but also partly the embrace of a lover desperate to seduce someone. I continued a few paces ahead, to give them some privacy, but they spoke loudly enough to ensure I overheard.
"Tell me, Jane, are you going to have your sissy develop?" I glanced back over my shoulder to see Roxanne all over my mom. She had her chin on mom's shoulder and was licking her earlobe as she talked. "Are you going to put him through his hormonal paces? Are you going to help his gorgeous little body catch up with his lovely little mind?"
"That's not my call, and you know it, you lecherous queen!" When mom turned to share a passionate kiss, I turned my attention back to the jewelry counter. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the security guard doing the same. "If Darnel wants him on hormones and vitamins," mom said, "I suspect the little sissy will be quite eager, and if Darnel suggests a little cosmetic surgery, I doubt anything I could say would keep him out of the hospital bed."
Roxanne's laughter was infectious. I even saw the security guard smile, before he caught me looking and turned away, red-faced with embarrassment. "Be honest, my dear, you want to see him develop, don't you?"
"Just between you and I" -- mom raised her voice a little bit higher -- "absolutely. It's not something I had ever considered for him, and certainly nothing I had planned, but fate sometimes demands the right choices of us. Knowing what he's become already, I'd love to see my little sissy become Darnel's submissive shemale slut."
I whimpered a bit at the thought, and had to dig my fingernails into the palms of my hands to control myself. I pictured myself with a pair of real breasts -- a 'D' cup, for sure -- a waspish waist, a perfect ass -- I'd have to ask mom what she did to put so much junk in her trunk without ruining the rest of her figure -- and maybe even a little work on my face. I'd never thought about taking things so far before, but suddenly the image of my future was clearly set in my mind.
"Fantastic! You'll let me know as soon as he's ready, won't you?" Roxanne's infectious giggle snapped me out of my daydream. She looked like such a butch, but she was so sweet and friendly, I certainly wouldn't mind cleaning a few black sperm holes with her. "I may not have much use for boys," she cooed, "but I do like a cum-filled shemale slut!"