Like Mother, Like Sissy

That's when I saw the open door that would change my life forever.

I often wonder what would have happened had somebody closed that door. Fifteen people – fourteen men plus my mom – had walked out that door, and not a single one of them thought to close it behind them. Had they done so, I never would have done what I did, and what happened never would have happened. The course of my life would have been significantly altered, and I can't say that would have been a good thing.

In fact, I can't imagine my life without that open door, and wouldn't change what I've become for anything.

The open door alone meant nothing to me, but thoughts of makeup had naturally led to thought of sex toys. Don't ask me why, but the completion of my feminine appearance demanded, at least in my imagination, the initiation of my feminine sexuality. I knew my mom had a large collection of vibrators and dildos, and she had long since given me permission to play, so long as I cleaned them up and put them back after.

That's all I was thinking as I walked through that door, but the thought didn't last for long. Almost immediately, my senses were assaulted by the aroma of male arousal, the perfume of masculine musk, and the intoxicating scent of sex. It was so intense, so overpowering, it literally sent me to my knees. As it washed over me I felt myself become dizzy. Had I not dropped to my knees, I'm certain I would have fainted altogether.

What I smelt was the contributions of fourteen hot, sweaty, horny men . . . and one sexually liberated woman. Beneath the more pungent scents of sweat and musk was a deeper, more primal scent that was nutty and tangy and sweetly sour. It was the smell of cum, and it was overpowering. I felt lost, hypnotized by the smell. While I hadn't felt any sort of attraction to the two big black cocks in the hallways, I had a newfound appreciation for what those cocks could produce.

I left the overnight bag on the floor and slowly approached the bed. It was an absolute mess. The mattress had been knocked askew, with the bottom right-hand corner overlapping the box spring by more than a foot. The fitted sheet had been pulled loose at all four corners, and the mattress cover was only hanging on by the top left corner. As I got closer, I could see that the sheets were wet, so wet that they glistened in the light. There were two huge wet spots where the light bounced back like sunshine off a calm lake, and a much larger area encompassing them that just looked damp. I knew it was cum, but I had never seen that much cum at one time, in one place, before.

It didn't look real.

I was in a trance as I walked towards the bed. The sight of all that cum had utterly consumed me. I could see the two pools of cum, thick enough and slick enough to be my mom's best European hand crème. They were an off-white color that I'd never seen before, shot through with faint tinges of yellow. It looked thick enough to paint with, but smooth enough to lubricate the most delicate machinery. I could smell it more and more as I crossed the room, until that smell became an impossible taste in the back of my throat. I was completely unaware of what was happening around me. All I knew, all I saw, was those twin puddles of cum.

And then I fell.

Two steps away from the bed, I stepped on something even slipperier than the cum. Whatever it was, I didn't see it, just felt it slide out from beneath my feet as I tripped awkwardly towards the bed. It all happened in slow motion, as if I were watching it through some voyeur's camera lens, instead of my own two eyes. I saw the bed coming closer to my face – I was, of course, falling closer to it – and saw the topmost pool of cum growing before my eyes. I actually saw a hint of my reflection in the creamy mirror before a euphoric splat and a well-cushioned blow took my sight from me.

I had landed, face-first, directly in the pool of cum. I couldn't have planned it any better or aimed any closer if I had tried. For the longest moment I just laid there, surrounded by cum, and feeling it ooze into my every orifice. I had cum in my eyes, up my nose, in my ears, and in my mouth. It was like being drowned in a pool of hot glue, except hot glue never tasted so glorious. Without consciously being aware of what I was doing, I began kissing and licking and slurping the cum from the bed. I began slowly rolling my head from one side to the other, coating my face with even more cum.

It felt so wonderful, so sexual, and so feminine. I can't explain it, but there was something about the experience that spoke to me at a subliminal level, awakening the sissy inside me to the awe-inspiring power of cum.

Finally, needing a breath, I stood up from the bed and turned to face her dressing table mirror. What stared back at me was a slender, long haired, pale faced sissy . . . with enough cum on his face to make him look like a glazed donut. It was a sight like I had never imagined, but it was absolutely intoxicating. I felt my cock becoming almost painfully erect in my pants. I watched the sissy in the mirror, forgetting for a moment that it was me, wipe a thick dollop of cum from the tip of his nose with two fingers, and then slowly bring the treasure to his lips. When his (my) tongue flicked out to taste that dollop, to lick that finger clean, we both exploded.

The sudden intensity of the orgasm rocked my very soul. It sent me stumbling backwards, where I tripped, once again, this time landing in the second, smaller puddle of cum. I was not a religious boy, and never believed in coincidence, but some force of fate had chosen that moment to alter my life, and it succeeded beyond all expectations. Shocked out of my hypnotic stupor, I rubbed my face all over the bed. I ripped my shirt off, threw it across the room, and began rubbing my hairless chest in the cum as well. My nipples were getting hard from all the excitement, and my cock was already growing again.

Before long, I had the spent cum of more than a dozen big black cocks all over me, soaking into my pores, and drying upon my skin. For the longest while I just laid there, stoned on cum, and felt it slowly drying upon me, tightening my flesh. I imagined myself being placed in a cocoon of cum, and I knew that if I was only patient, and allowed the sperm to do it's work, I'd emerge a perfect sissy butterfly.

That's when I remember what I had come in for in the first place.

I slithered across the bed, further covering myself in cum, and reached for my mom's dresser. I opened her toy drawer and peered inside. Although I had come looking for a couple of her smaller vibrators, my eyes were immediately drawn to the realistic looking black, rubber dildo. I grabbed it up, amazed by the weight of it, and confirmed my earlier assumption that it would take two hands to masturbate one of these monsters.

Never losing contact with all that cum, I slid around on the bed until my face was buried in the larger pool of cum, with the smaller one directly in front of me. I pushed the dildo down into the bed, rolled it around in the cum, and then allowed myself a moment to admire it's slick, cum-coated, gloriousness before giving it a lick from balls to cockhead. Somehow taking the cum directly from the cock, even if it was a fake one, completed the experience. I giggled and smiled and gasped and cried as I writhed around on the bed, making mad, passionate, oral love to my cum-covered dildo.

At some point I stripped out of my clothes and rescued cum-soaked satin nightie that I had twice slipped on from the floor. I slipped it on – actually, I struggled my way into it – and cooed with delight as I felt the heavy, damp weight of it sticking to my skin. Again, I looked into the mirror, and again I nearly exploded at the sight. I looked like such a slut, a worthless whore who didn't even have the decency to get out of her sperm-saturated clothes before climbing back into her cum-coated bed.

That's when seven simple words, spoken in a deep, booming baritone, tipped the balance of my fate.

"Well, now. Aren't you the sissy princess."

Started out of my cum-drenched dreams, I looked up to find one of my mom's black lovers standing before me. He was fully clothed, and had apparently showered, but I could see the outline of his cock straining down his right pant leg. I should have been horrified, embarrassed to be caught as I was, but hearing him call me 'sissy princess' awakened an ever deeper level of my sissy self.

"Your mom is going to be staying at my place for the weekend, but she asked me to stop in and bring her a few things." He chuckled softly as I just laid there, frozen, with cum all over me and a black dildo in my mouth. "It's a shame traffic was so bad at this time of night." I watched, spellbound, as he began undoing his belt. "Heck, I might even have run into a flat tire and had to walk clear across town for a spare." He unzipped his pants and let them drop to the floor.

I could see the immensity of his cock, barely contained by the elastic leg-bands of his white briefs. I cried out a little bit, not sure of what was happening, but only too happy to see where it led.

When he pulled off those briefs, and his rapidly hardening cock sprang into view, any last shred of doubt within me disappeared. My hands fell away from the dildo in my mouth, and reached out for his manhood. As for the dildo, it slipped out, forgotten, and fell into the sticky mess of the bed. I began crawling towards him.

Like I said – and I know this is hard to grasp – I hadn't suddenly become gay or anything like that, but I knew his cock was responsible for at least some of this delicious cum, and I was determined to earn some of my own.

"Tell me, white boy, do you want to suck it?" He was playing with his cock, making it jump and twitch, and laughing as my eyes followed every movement. "Do you want to feel it pushing past your tonsils until it's fucking you deep in your throat?"

Slowly, tentatively, I reached out to touch it. Oh my god, it was hot, and hard, and alive! Suddenly, the dildo I'd been making such sweet love to seemed like the worst kind of fraud. I never wanted to touch another one again, much less make the mistake of thinking it could substitute for the real thing. I lunged forward, but he slapped me across the face, sending me sprawling across the bed.

"Ah, ah, ah," he reprimanded me. "Even when she's lost in the pleasure of black cock in both her holes and both her hands, your mother never forgets her manners." He squeezed his way down his cock until a huge drop of pre-cum could be seen glistening at the tip.

I had to have it!

"Yes!" I dove forward and cried out with my need. "Yes, I do want to suck it, please!"

He wiped at the pre-cum and held his finger out before my face. "Do you want this?" he asked me.

I nodded, unwilling take my attention from that glistening finger. "Please," I whimpered, "I want your cum." I shuddered with another orgasm. "I want it. I need it. Only let me drink the cum from your cock, and I will do anything you ask."

"Lick it."

I did just that, caressing his finger with my tongue, and coaxing the delicious pre-cum into my mouth.

"Suck it."

I took his finger in my mouth and sucked it like a tiny cock.

"Time for the real thing, bitch." With that, he grabbed a hold of my head, pulled me forward, and slammed his cock into my mouth. It was so big it choked me. I was gagging and gasping for breath, but he just held it there, slowly stroking my cum-covered cheeks and whispering for me to relax, promising that I would adjust.

I'd been so wrapped up in the taste, the smell, and the feel of cum, I had forgotten those other aromas that had drawn me into the room. With my mouth inches away from his balls, I once again smelled the powerful aroma of male musk, of masculine sweat. I was sweetly sour to my nose and, I realized suddenly, something I had never smelled before that night.

Never smelled on myself, because I wasn't a real man . . . I was a sissy, and I belonged on the other end of that smell!

To my amazement – and maybe it was a genetic trait passed on from my mom – I adjusted pretty quickly. Granted, I had enough cum coating the inside of my mouth to lubricate a large engine, but it was something else that stretched my cheeks and relaxed my jaw. Before long he was gently fucking my face, stroking all ten inches of big, black cock into my mouth. I still gagged every time he last two inches forced their way past my lips, but the feel of his balls bouncing against my chin saved me every time. That was his cum-sack caressing my face, the magical extension of his big, black cock that produced the cum I had so quickly, and so easily become addicted to. I paid close attention to how they felt, and sucked hard the more I saw them begin to tighten.

It wasn't long before he was ready to cum. "Keep sucking, boy, and you'll get a nice surprise."

He pulled back so that only the first few inches were in my mouth, then continued fucking me with quick, short strokes. I actually felt his cock begin to quiver on my tongue. I felt his vein begin to tighten against my oral embrace. Anticipating my first taste of cum from the tap, so to speak, I began sucking that much harder. When the first explosive jet of black sperm erupted in my mouth, I was taken completely by surprise. I swear he came hard enough to bruise the back of my throat with the force of his ejaculation.

That was perfectly okay, because I was in heaven.

If I had thought stale, spent cum, licked from a soiled mattress had tasted good, the taste of hot, fresh cum being delivered directly into my mouth was another level of sensation entirely. I sucked and swallowed feverishly, draining his cock of it's cum, and then continuing to suck it long after it was dry and soft once again. Twice he tried to extract himself from my mouth, but I wasn't ready to let go. Finally, he slapped me again, reminding me of my manners.

"Sissy princess and a sperm whore, eh?" He slapped my face a few times with his cock, before pushing me away. "I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

A million different thoughts and feelings were flooding my brain as I came down from my cum-induced high, but number one among them all was that this had to happen again. "Please, sir." I could barely talk though my bruised, cum-coated throat. "Please, may I enjoy your cum again some time?"

He paused with his briefs on, and his pants halfway up his legs. "Tell me, sissy princess, have you seen your mother's tattoo?"

I just nodded.

"My advice to you is to get one of your own." He continued getting dressed. "I could use a little sperm whore like you to help out with my . . . shall we say, operations . . . but I demand that my whores demonstration the proper amount of dedication." He approached the bed and I knew he felt me shudder against his touch. "Dedication," he repeated, "and pride. I don't need some sissy hiding in a closet. If you're going to eat with me, you had better be prepared for people to know it."

It killed me to watch him walk out of that room, but it killed me even more to follow – leaving behind that wonderland of cum – a few minutes later.

*******

It cost me six months' allowance – mom was entirely okay with me advancing myself money, so long as I kept track of what I owed – but I took care of things that very weekend.

When my mom came stumbling in Monday morning, barely able to walk straight from the pounding she had taken all weekend, I made sure I was standing naked at the fridge, with my back to her. At first, her sudden intake of breath worried me, and made me think I had done something wrong, but then she rushed forward and wrapped me in an awkward embrace. She knew well enough to keep away from the fresh tattoo, but she hugged me as tightly and warmly as she had ever done before.

Feeling a little shy and uncertain, I looked over my shoulder and saw the tears in her eyes. "Do you like it?" I asked.

Tattooed across the small of my back, in precisely the same spot as hers, was a bright pink heart. Sitting over the left side of the heart, on an angle, was a collection of cum stains that took on the shape of a crown fit for a princess. Inside the heart were the letters 'SPSW' in a very girly, cartoonish font.

She nodded. "Tell me, sweetie, what does it stand for?"

"It's what he called me when I was done." I told her. "He said I was a Sissy Princess Sperm Whore and that I had better show my pride if I ever expected to get fed again."

"How long has this been going on?"

I blushed, afraid she was going to tell me I had rushed into things, or made a foolish decision on a whim. "Since Friday night." When she didn't respond, I explained about coming home, the open door, the sex toys, and finding the bed full of cum.

"Promise me you'll be careful?" She turned me around and pulled me into a proper hug. "Promise me you'll pick safe partners, and never risk yourself?" She made me look up into her eyes. "I can use protection and still enjoy my big black cocks, but if you're going to be feasting on their cum, you won't have the luxury."

"Your friend . . ." I realized at that moment I didn't even know his name.

"Darnel" she offered, helpfully.

"Right. Darnel." I was very aware of stepping on her territory, but I had to ask the question. "Is he safe? Are his friends safe?" I was suddenly overcome by the fear that she would forbid me from sharing her man and started to cry. "Can we . . . can we share him?"

"What?" She tried to look horrified, but I could see the smile hiding behind that look.

"Not at the same time," I clarified, "but can I feast upon his sperm when you're not enjoying his cock?"

She reached into her purse. "Darnel wouldn't have it any other way, sweetie." From out of her purse she pulled a condom that was so full of cum, it looked liked she'd melted a baseball in it. "He felt bad about sending you for a tattoo so soon, but he had the boys put together a take-out package for you."

I saw that condom full of cum and spurted a bit against her dress. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry!"

She just laughed. "Take your treat, go to your room, close the door, and enjoy it."

As I skipped down the hall, holding the warm collection of sperm clutched softly to my chest, I heard her say, "Like mother, like son. Who would have thought it?"

I paused, thought about it for a moment, and then rushed back into the kitchen. "Thanks, mom." I kissed her on the cheek and thought about all the cum that must have laid there a few nights ago, and possibly even all weekend. When I thought about all the cum on my own cheek, I giggled an end to the kiss. "But, in this case," I told her, "I think like mother, like sissy would be more appropriate."

My mom shook her head and laughed. "I can see you are going to be completely incorrigible." She slapped me on the ass. "I never thought I'd be saying this to my son, but go eat your Master's cum."

I started to back away, but lingered. "You're okay with it?" I asked her.

She nodded. "It's not the fate I would have chosen for you, but I couldn't be happier, or more proud."

The feeling, I can assure you, was entirely mutual.

TO BE CONTINUED IN . . . Cum Clean, Leave Full (A Sissy Princess Sperm Whore Story)