The European Way Pt. 02

How did I so easily become a feminized faggot for Hans? There was no doubt a longing in me for companionship and intimacy. I needed to feel wanted and appreciated again after witnessing my woman being taken from me. Hans filled that void and in a moment of need and vulnerability, I allowed myself to become his. I welcomed his guidance and direction. And, I might add, I enjoyed the sex.

There are many theories about previously heterosexual males becoming gay as they mature. Some suggest that we were always that way but never had the courage to face the reality that people like me should be sucking cocks and taking it up ass rather than chasing pussy.

While I did lust after pussy in my previous life, I now seek the attention and affections from men; real men who know what they want and know how to get it. I think, in my case as the author of these stories, it's their masculinity that attracts me. My lack of that trait and admiration for those who have it serves me well. Still, there are those quiet times, times when alone I allow myself to wonder what if I was manly. Would I still lust after cock?

I have read where DNA plays a role. A long dormant gene slowly affects males, particularly white males where nature is, in effect, neutralizing our reproduction via homosexuality. The eventual result would be our self-extinction.

This has been studied and written about as more white women seek out the dominant species of males and are hooking up with Black men. Previously white males, now part time transvestites like me, attract the virile white men into discharging their seed in girls like us thereby lowering the birthrate of whites as a race until we no longer exist. I'm not sure I believe in that theory, but I have seen evidence that it may well be happening.

Likewise, men, I'm talking about real men, those of you reading this know who you are, find themselves attracted to mincing pansies like me. Biological males with less than average sized penises and little balls that look as though they never dropped, we have a place in this world. But that place is not between the thighs of a willing woman but rather on our knees worshiping cocks and the real men who were blessed to have cocks instead of silly little penises.

Hans had me move in with him. Still his princess, he treated me the way a man treats his woman. He and I became a couple of regulars at the sex show theater where he first brought me. We had reserved seats where I tasted my first cock. We were soon competing with those on stage as the audience watched me make love to my man's cock while the actors did their thing.

Because so many attending the shows told the manager that Hans and I and what I did for him brought them back again and again, we were allowed to enter for free. As a favor for our frequent visits to the theater, the manager allowed Hans to take me backstage to meet some of the actors.

When I stood in front of the petite male who loved sucking the black man's cock on stage, it was like seeing a mirror image of myself. Hans had a sort of self-satisfied smile as he introduced me to Herminie. "She was once my American princess, my love. I liberated her as I did you."

I felt a surge of jealousy fill me as Hans told me how he loved turning American men into sissies. "They came to me as you did, princess. Sad, lonely, rejected, looking for something new, something different, something exciting, just as you did. I showed them, as I did you, a new path to walk. I liberated them of the colossal weight of trying to be men."

I said nothing, my jaws clenched, my anger just below the surface.

Hans noticed and softened his approach. "My princess......."

"Don't call me that," I insisted as my tears began to flow.

"Now johnnie, what is bothering my princess?"

"I told you not to call me that. You call everyone you seduce your princess. I am not your princess or anyone else's."

"But you promised me. You said you wanted to my American princess. no?"

I flashed back to that first night. It seemed so long ago but in actuality it was only a month or so that I had said those words. My emotions were confused, muddled. I broke down in heaving sobs.

Hans held me close. "It's the hormones, darling. Please try to control yourself."

He was right. Hans had me on a regimen of hormones which were causing my moods to fluctuate.

I looked up at my man and saw he was genuinely concerned. He kissed my forehead and asked if I was okay. I assured him I was as I collected myself and apologized to Herminie. "I had no right to be jealous," I told her.

Herminie smiled. "Princess johnnie, the life that Hans showed me was indeed liberating. Crushed by a failed marriage, as I suspect you were, Hans helped me realize my true identity, my purpose. Trust him, princess johnnie. Hans knows what is best for girls like us."

Later, after leaving the theater, I apologized to my man once more with a long slow blow job.

Hans had slowly feminized me introducing me to fine lingerie before changing my wardrobe completely. My man had the last say in everything I did. Hans determined when I could suck his cock, when I could cum, and suggested that he might have me spread my wings and service other men.

He chose every article of my apparel. He decided what I would wear in the small apartment or when we went out. I admit it was nice to have someone else making decisions for me. That Hans cared enough to do the thinking for both of us pleased me.

I know that Hans being the first man I had been with like that, sexually I mean, made me afraid to lose him. I did everything to please him hoping he'd keep me.

I'm no feminist. I loved that my man did everything from ordering for me at restaurants to selecting the color nail polish I should wear. Hans would weigh me once a week and discipline me if I weighed more than his desired weight for me. I relied on his good taste, his judgement until I became wholly dependent on Hans.

It was not as though he lorded over me. His control over me came naturally as I confessed above. I have said that I am not a fighter. And since Hans had seen in me that which I had failed to see and molded me into his princess, it was only natural that I defer to him, eventually obeying his every wish.

Like all robust men, Hans had a healthy sexual appetite. We fucked like rabbits. And always he would have me facing the mirror to show me what I had become as we confirmed our roles as Dominant and submissive. "You are nothing more than my submissive bitch," he'd say has he fucked me or fed me his cock. It didn't take long before I believed him. I wanted to be that for my man.

"Princess, it is time for us to visit new places. Italy, perhaps, yes? The Italian men will love having a sweet American princess hanging on their cocks, no?"

It was degrading and arousing at the same time to know that Hans was considering pimping me out. "You're not going to have me in one of those windows, are you?" I asked, wondering if he was going to make me a prostitute.

"Not for a while, princess," he grinned which did nothing but arouse me further. Would I whore myself for Hans? I didn't know at that time. I only knew that I didn't want to lose him and if selling my body would please him, then I'd probably allow him to me turn tricks for him.

It was in Rome when Hans first let me enjoy the company of another man. Calogero was his name. We were in a restaurant when Calogero first approached us. "Such a fine signorina," he smiled lasciviously.

"She's my little American princess, princess johnnie" Hans proudly stated.

"You are a fortunate man," Calogero replied. "May I join you?"

"Please, by all means," Hans said allowing the handsome Italian man to sit next to me.

Hans had me in a short dress that evening, you know the little black dress. My heels were not very high, 3" is all. Hans had decided that my nails should be a vivid red as was my lipstick. My panties were also black.

Hans wore nicely tailored beige wool slacks and a navy-blue silk shirt. Blue was his color, and he looks simply stunning in that color.

Dinner was pleasant and throughout our meal, Calogero flirted with me and constantly told Hans how fortunate he was to have a woman like me.

"She is, how you say, so Bellissimo."

"My friend, Bellissimo is for a man, is it not? Princess johnnie is a female," Hans corrected him.

Calogero turned red with embarrassment. "Many apologies. I only thought princess johnnie was male."

It was my turn to blush.

"Tell our friend, princess. Don't be shy."

My hands were folded in my lap as I hesitated to confess my sexual identity. "Tell him, johnnie," Hans said in a stern manner.

I was not comfortable in telling my tale of transition from male to female but at Hans' insistence, I told Calogero how I came to be princess johnnie including how Hans made me his woman and that first blow job in the theater.

When I finished, I could see that our new friend was not the least put off. "Just as I suspected, a beautiful omosessuale."

Hans suggested we take ourselves to an outdoor cafe where much wine was enjoyed by the three of us.

Calogero began to get a bit handsy, touching my legs, my hands, my arms. It felt nice to be appreciated by another man and I could tell he wanted me.

Hans saw that as well and instead of getting protective or jealous, invited Calogero back to our suite.

Soft lights, soft music, two healthy men and one horny tranny, what could go wrong, right?

As always, when Hans told me to change into something more comfortable, I did as my man told me.

My mauve gown was floor length. My panty a pink thong. I rejoined my men and served them drinks. Some agreement must have been reached between Hans and Calogero because when our Italian friend pulled me onto his lap, Hans did not object.

Calogero and Hans talked about the upcoming world cup games as though I was not there. But I was there and loved how Calogero made me feel when his hand found its way to my budding breasts. I say budding and I know, believe me, I know I'm exaggerating. My nipples were a bit larger, and I was puffing up some around them.

I moaned as Calogero pulled on a nipple. Looking at Hans to see his reaction, he gave me a smile and a nod to let me know what was happening was okay with him.

Calogero opened my robe and turned me to kiss me.

I was still worried about Hans and how he might take this indiscretion. Calogero ran his hands over me turning me into a quivering horny bitch.

I turned to look at Hans and saw he was playing with his cock through his trousers. Relived that he actually wanted me to experience our new friend, I turned back to Calogero and kissed him. I parted my lips inviting his tongue into my mouth.

My hand pressed between us, and I found his cock was hard. I broke our kiss and looked into Calogero's eyes. "May I take care of this for you, signore?"

"Si, signora, succhiami il cazzo, puttana."

I had no idea what Calogero was saying but I took it to mean he wanted me to suck his cock.

I slid from his lap, removed my gown, and in only my pink panty, planted a kiss through his trousers on his erection. It was my turn to flirt now.

My little dick grew in my pink panty as I rubbed Calogero's thighs before opening his belt.

I flittered my eye lashes as I opened his slacks and pulled them down. The dark purple silk briefs held a nice package though not as large as my man's. I raised Calogero's shirt above his stomach and kissed his abs, my chest laying on his erection.

Kissing my way down, I slowly pulled his underwear down freeing his pretty cock.

Holding his cock, I turned to Hans who now had his clothes off and was slowly masturbating. "Is this what my man wants to see," I whispered hoarsely. "My man wants to see his princess suck this cock?"

"Does my princess not want to suck his cock? Hans replied in a lusty voice.

"She does, Hans dear. She wants to suck this pretty cock while you, my man watches his slut perform."

I didn't wait for Hans to answer. Instead, I smiled up at Calogero and scarfed down his cock like I hadn't eaten in a month.

"Brava puttana, succhiami il cazzo, cagna."

I loved hearing Calogero urging me on in Italian. It made it seem all the more continental and sophisticated.

"Brutta troia," Calogero grunted as he filled my mouth with his sperm. I later learned as Calogero was departing that he had called me a fucking bitch in his language. He apologized profusely saying that he was overcome with passion.

Hans was not so apologetic. "Fucking American slut," he growled as he grabbed my hair, forced me to my knees and mounted me from behind. "My whore of a princess, yes?" he cursed me. "My American slut, I should put you in a window back in Amsterdam, no? Whore you out like the slut you are."

All the while he was cursing and threatening me, Hans was furiously fucking me harder than ever. My dick, almost stiff, spewed forth as did more cursing from my man until he emptied his balls, finally satiating his lust in his American whore.

It wasn't that Hans was treating me differently after watching me blow Calogero, but I felt different. My man had watched and masturbated as I pleasured another man. It was all so new and exciting. I decided I liked it.

I found that Hans liked seeing me flirt with other men; teasing, caressing their hand or arm as we talked. Afterwards my man would take me back to our room and either fuck my mouth or bottom with furious gusto.

On the island of Mykonos, Hans had me wearing a two-piece swimsuit. The bottom was a bright pink thong which excited us both as I walked the beach with my ass visible. The top was little more than two triangles attached by a thin strand around my neck and back.

Something changed in my man as he had me double teamed by two Greek hunks we met on the beach. I saw Hans masturbating has one man fucked me and the other fed me his cock.

It was an other-worldly experience. Having two men use me as my man jacked off and others who happened by witnessed the depravity.

From that day on, Hans decided I should dress the part of a whore. My clothes became more revealing, sexier. Under Hans' strict supervision, my makeup became harsher and sluttier as my man invited other men to enjoy what I had to offer. And each time I could see Hans masturbating as I sucked or was fucked. He loved seeing his American princess slut whore herself out.

Turkey, France, Germany, each place we visited Hans would set me up with handsome men with nice cocks. And in each country, town, and hotel we stayed in, Hans would introduce me as his American princess and invite men to sample his American whore.

It began to dawn on me that Hans was becoming a cuckold. He loved watching men use me for their pleasure while he would direct the activities to his liking all the while masturbating.

And I was changing too. The more Hans allowed other men to use me, the hornier I became. Some might call me a cock slut, a cock sleeve, cock sucker, cum dump. The names are endless, and all are true of me.

I had become an international whore as Hans told me once we returned to Amsterdam.

"It's what you wanted me to become, Hans. I did it for you."

"You were easy to liberate, princess whore."

It hurt me to hear him say that, but I couldn't argue. He was right.

At the theater, Hans would direct me to suck cocks of anyone sitting beside us. Sometimes he would give his address to a guy and later on, he would visit and fuck me while Hans jacked off.

It became such a regular routine that Hans would no longer let me suck his self-satisfied cock or fuck me. Despondent and feeling rejected, and horny, I visited the theater without Hans. I know I probably should have asked him, but he seemed so distracted I didn't bother.

I watched my sister princess Herminie service the Black stud. Wishing I was up there with her, I was surprised when the manager came and sat next to me.

"She is beautiful, is she not?" He said speaking of Herminie. "And he is such a stud, no?"

As he talked, he took my hand very gently and placed it in his lap. I was pleasantly surprised to find his erection out of his pants.

"Mmmm," I sighed as I ran my hand up and down his cock. "Yes, she is so beautiful and so lucky to be sucking that big cock."

"It could be you, princess johnnie," He whispered and smiled. "You would be a wonderful addition to princess Herminie."

"Really?" I asked as he pulled my head to his cock.

"I am sure of it," he said as he guided my actions.

I was thinking of that big Black cock that Herminie was enjoying as I sucked my future boss to climax.

Using my hair to dry his saliva moistened cock after he came, he tucked himself in his trousers and told me to come back the next day. "First I must tell Herminie that you two American faggots will be working together."

"Wait," I called as he made to leave without so much as a thank you for the blow job I gave him. "How much does it pay?"

His wolfish grin said it all. "That big cock is enough payment, no?"

To be continued. Your comments are encouraged.