The Sissy Mark

As soon as we pulled into Toms parking spot, I jumped from the car and ran upstairs. After unlocking the front door, I dashed down the hall and into my room. I slammed my door shut, locking it before jumping onto my bed. I didn't even bother undressing. I grabbed my pillow and mounted it, bucking my hips violently as I rubbed my little nub across the soft material.

I gasped and panted, and fought back my moans as I raced towards my climax.

"Quin!" Toms voice called from the other side of my door. I didn't respond, and the handle jiggled, but I never slowed my motions. "Quin, are you okay? I'm worried about you."

I bit my lip hard, rubbing my hands up my bare thighs and over my body. Lightning struck, flashing through me quickly, and then again. A warmth inside of me swelled, expanding throughout my body from my center all the way out to the tips of my toes.

The bubble burst, and I cried out in ecstasy as I shook violently as a flow of cum filled my panties. My hips continued to buck wildly as I milked out every bit of pleasure I could.

There was a loud bang, and a crunch from behind me. Startled, I looked back to see Tom standing in my doorway. Part of my doorframe was cracked and splintering. Tom stood there just inside my room, his mouth moving, but nothing coming out at first.

I couldn't react. My body was still riding the tail end of my climax and my legs were still visibly quaking as my cock finished spurting the last of my cum, and my abs were still convulsing as I came down.

"I thought you were," he gulped, taking in my predicament. "You screamed. I thought you were hurt."

When I could finally move again, I just put my head into my hands and cried. I sobbed like I was a small child again, and by the time my tears cleared, Tom was gone, and my door was closed as far as the broken frame would allow. Climbing off my pillow, I sat on the edge of the bed, running my fingers through my hair.

I had tried so hard. Every time I tried to fight what was happening, I lost. I didn't want to feel these things, but they were so overwhelming that they wore me down or something. It didn't even phase me to think of myself as who I was now. When I closed my eyes and thought about myself, the image of the girl came to my mind far before the image of the man. I wasn't even sure if I could remember exactly what I had looked like before.

As hard as I fought what was happening to me, I'd fought even harder to hide it from the world...Tom most specifically. And now he'd just barged in on me fucking myself stupid on my pillow like some desperately horny schoolgirl.

I sat there hating myself for a while before there was a light knock and Tom slowly pushed the door open.

"Is it okay now?" he asked, peeking in carefully.

I didn't respond, but after seeing that I was decent, he came in.

"Listen, I'm really sorry I walked in on you like that. That's none of my business. I just heard you screaming, and after you not feeling well...I thought..."

"It's okay," I said, scrubbing my eyes.

Tom sat down beside me and was quiet for a while before he spoke again. All that..." he began. "Is that something she did to you too?"

I opened my mouth to lie, but I stopped. "I don't know," I told him honestly. "She changed what I looked like, but I feel things, things I've never felt before, and it scares me. Why did she do this to me?"

I started crying all over again, but this time it was soft weeping. Tom put his arm around me and held me, letting me rest my head on his shoulder while my tears flowed freely.

The truth was, I knew why she did it. I was a shitty person. She had tried several times to tell me the truth about her, but I didn't care about anything she had to say. I only saw her as a set of holes. And when I found out, I was a total jackass. Did I have to be okay with her having a dick? No, but I didn't have to be an asshole about it. I could have just apologized and walked away, but I had to make her feel bad for being who she was.

I guess this is what she meant by a better understanding of the fairer sex. I did not know about the fairer sex, but I understood her more. Nothing about this life I was living was easy. For her to choose it, she must have wanted it badly...needed it even, to risk having to endure shitty people like myself.

I wouldn't call it an epiphanous moment though. These thoughts had been slowly building for a couple of days now.

After my tears ran out again, I sat for a while feeling my cum seeping through my panties and wetting my thighs, before I finally excused myself to the bathroom. After discarding my soiled underwear, I wiped myself clean with a rag and soap, and washed the tears from my face for good measure.

When I exited, Tom was standing there, leaning against the hall next to my door.

"Better?" he inquired.

"Yeah," I said, feeling embarrassed.

"I don't know about you, but I always get hungry after getting off," he offered. "Pizza?"

"I don't even know why we're friends," I said, giving him a hug.

"Just remember this in the inevitable future that you walk in on me," he said as he patted my back awkwardly.

"Oh, you masturbate like a girl too?"

"Not yet..." he joked, "but I'm no stranger to a little choke and stroke when the mood hits."

I couldn't help the full bellied laugh that escaped my mouth.

"I'll order the pizza" He smiled, giving me a playful shove as he headed back toward the living room.

An hour later we were juggling our gaming controllers with slices of pizza, laughing at our horrible play.

"No, you've gotta do it like this!" he instructed me, putting the end of the pizza into his mouth and letting it hang. Then he used his mouth and tongue to pull it inside bit by bit, allowing him to eat virtually hands free.

"You're such a pig," I laughed.

"Jealous?" he quipped.

"Maybe a little," I said, taking another bite of my own pizza.

"So, has enough time passed yet for me to ask why you were doing it like that?" he asked curiously after a few more matches had gone by.

I blushed, but Tom had a way of making the most embarrassing things easier to talk about, and I didn't understand it, so I answered.

"She...changed things about me," I said, sure that my cheeks would catch fire if I blushed any further.

"I know that," he said wryly. "Anyone who looks at you can see-" he stopped, his eye widening. "Did she give you a vagina!"

"No!" I said quickly, but Tom could tell that I wasn't telling everything. "Some parts of me grew," I said, touching my hair and glancing down at my breasts. "Other parts...got smaller," I continued, forcing the words out.

"How much smaller?" he asked, shifting uncomfortably. Your cock miraculously shrinking was a fear every man could appreciate.

"Too small to do anything with," I sighed. "When it happens, and I get..."

"Horny?" he offered.

"Excited," I said, choosing a slightly less loaded word. When I get excited, it can be pretty overwhelming until I take care of it. I tried stroking, but it just didn't work out. The only thing I found to get-"

"Off?"

"Past it," I said over him loudly. "was to rub myself. The pillow just made it easier." I finished, avoiding eye contact.

"So, what exactly are we talking about here?" Tom asked. "A little smokey...a raisinette?"

"It's pretty small," I confided.

"Can I see it?" he asked after a moment.

"You want to see it?" I asked, surprised.

"Well, yeah," he said, blushing. "It's not every day someone's penis gets shrunken by magic. That's something to see."

"I can't believe your asking to see another man's cock right now." I joked, trying to get us back into the video game and away from this topic.

"Now that's not fair," he said. "How many dicks have you seen in porn?"

"Not the same," I countered.

"Those are dudes dicks?" he said. "When you watch porn, whether you want to or not, you are staring at another dudes dick. And your jerking off too," he added. "How is this even close to that? I mean, this is basically a medical condition, really. I'm just thinking about you, bro," he offered.

I knew he was full of shit, but he had a point, and he'd seen everything else already. Setting down my controller, I turned on the couch, pulling my feet up so I could face him. Then, very slowly, I leaned back against the armrest and spread my legs for him.

Toms eyes were fixed on the space between my thighs as they slowly parted for him. I let my red and green skirt slowly slide up, exposing more of my legs. The further my legs spread, the more I was certain Tom wasn't breathing any longer. A little further apart, I heard his sharp exhale of breath, and I glanced down to see my little cock sitting there all alone like an oversized nipple, or clit.

I felt a sort of exhilaration as I watched his eyes glued to me. My heartbeat quickened and those feelings began to threaten to fill me. I hesitated for a moment, part of me wanting to be pulled under so completely again, before slowly closing my legs again and lowering my skirt. Tom's eyes held to my waist for a few more moments before he pulled himself back to his senses.

"You weren't joking when you said it was small," he said, then thinking quickly he added, "I hope you got a receipt for your balls."

I blushed. That was something that I still had not gotten over. I was so used to having my balls there, always resting between my thighs, constantly needing my attention to make sure I didn't accidentally hurt them, and now they were just gone. Well, not gone exactly, but very well hidden. My entire posture had changed now that I wasn't always making accommodations for them. Crossing my legs was a hell of a lot easier, and enjoyable.

That strange awkwardness never left us, but it was starting to become a constant when it came to me and my situation. We ate more pizza and played some video games for a few more hours before I called it a night. I felt a little tired, having such a big day after doing nothing for so long. I got back to my room, stripped bare, and crawled into bed, enjoying the feeling of my comforter wrapped around my naked body.

*** *** ***

"Come with me," Tom insisted. "I can't promise it will be fun, but it will be more fun with you there."

It was the next morning, and Tom was still trying to convince me to go to the Halloween party at his work later that night.

"I don't have a costume," I said, shrugging regretfully as I took a bite of my cereal. "Sorry. Looks like you're on your own."

"Because you've checked, right?" he asked, leaning on the counter across from me. "You checked all the costume shops, and they didn't have anything?"

"Yup," I said.

"I know for a fact that Victoria Secret has costumes," he offered. "I can hop out and get you one of those," he threatened.

I'd glanced at those costumes. They were essentially lingerie and different color sets of wings. As much as I would have like to see other women in them, I wasn't going to wear something like that in public.

"I think you should come," he insisted. "We can get you a tasteful costume and have a fun night out. My bosses even sprung for entertainment." He was really laying it on thick now. "And don't try that I don't want people to see me shit either. You did just fine yesterday until your...mishap."

"I'll think about it," I told him.

"Don't think too long, because you still have to get that costume."

Out of curiosity, I pulled out my phone and began looking through the costume catalogues of a few shops around town. Most of it was just cheap stripper costumes—slutty nurse, slutty cop, slutty Dorothy, slutty...everything. There were a few that I could see myself possibly wearing, but none that I could see myself actually buying.

It was getting closer to noon, and I was about to give up when I came across an actual costume shop. Instead of the cheap options available in every drug store and strip mall, these were made out of quality materials. It even stated that they were theater quality. After browsing through for a few minutes, I saw the one that I wanted.

The shop was only twenty minutes away, and I reserved my rental online before shouting to Tom that I would go with him just as I was swinging the front door closed behind me.

When I arrived at the shop, my costume was already stowed in a garment bag by the front counter, waiting for me to pick it up. I just had to sign a copy of the receipt before I was good to go. Just as I was getting ready to leave, I saw another costume and paused, considering it. Not for me, but for Tom.

"Hey, Tom?" I asked through my phone. "What is your costume?"

"I was just going to go as Spiderman again," he said. "It still fits, so..."

He'd been Spiderman the last three years running. He didn't like to spend money on a new costume every year, and it went over well with the ladies, showing off his muscles and bulge quite well.

"Not this time." I said, lifting the costume off the rack to look it over. "What size are you?"

Another fifteen minutes later and I was heading back home with both of our costumes. I felt like I was crossing genres, but it just felt right to me.

Entering the apartment, I tossed one of the garment bags to Tom on the couch. "Don't shave," I instructed, passing right on by, and going down the hall to my room.

Whatever the curse had done to my body hair seem to be holding. My entire body was still silky smooth and hair free, but I had other things to take up my time getting ready. After a quick shower, I wrapped my hair in a towel and headed back to my room and opened one of the other bags I'd brought home. It was just a small makeup box, but I had a feeling nothing about this would be easy.

It wasn't. By the time I'd managed a simple look, my hair was completely dry. Just a little eye liner, some blush and light eye shadow, along with lipstick only slightly darker than my natural color. My arms were fatigued, but I was more than satisfied with how I looked. Now, I just needed to avoid fucking it up.

With my face out of the way, I returned to the bathroom to work on the hair. The lady at the store I picked up the makeup at recommended a flat iron, explaining that I could use it as a curling iron if I just twisted it as I pulled it along my hair.

I read the instructions. Usually, I'm the kind of guy that just goes for it, but I figured this was the right time to exercise a little caution. When I finished reading, the iron was warm, and I went to work. As I pulled, I did as the clerk had suggested and twisted, and when I reached the end, that section of hair bounced back up like a spring. Satisfied, I sectioned off my hair, and went to work trying to duplicate that lazy wavy curl with the rest of my hair.

My fingertips were burned, and I had several scorch marks all over my head, but when I finally set down the flat iron, I looked stunning. My yellow blonde hair framed my face as it cascaded around my shoulders. The curls in the locks added volume to my hair giving it a perfect oomph I was looking for.

I still had an hour until I needed to be ready, so I hid out from Tom in my room. I knew he would approve of my new look, but I didn't want to give away the surprise just yet. I wanted to see his face when I came out in my costume.

I sat on my bed, careful not to touch my hair or face, and scrolled through my phone for a while until I finally gave up and opened the garment bag laid out beside me.

There wasn't very much inside, but it was plenty. It was an Amazon costume, complete with shoes, a skirt made of wide leather strips, and a top that seemed to be made up of several joined pieces of rabbits' fur.

I started with the top, carefully avoiding my hair and face as I pulled it over my head. It was pretty small, designed to just cover the breasts. It only had one shoulder strap to hold it in place, and it left my entire midriff exposed. There was no room for a bra, but it was extremely comfortable on my breasts due to the soft fur on the inside.

The skirt was the most daring thing I think I'd worn yet. It was just a leather belt with leather strips that were about two inches wide riveted to it with brass buttons. When I moved or walked, the strips shifted, sometimes exposing skin that was never meant to be exposed. Just thinking about walking around in something like that set my heart beating rapidly.

The shoes were sandals really. The soles were comfortable for walking, and there were two long leather chords that had to be wound all the way up the calf before being tied.

I didn't want to risk going to the bathroom to see what I looked like, so I made do with my small mirror, casting it over my body slowly. It looked even better than I'd hoped. Even better than it had on the model in the catalogue.

I found myself staring at the mark on my lower back once again. Not a day went by that I didn't lose myself staring at those symbols. They were the thing that was doing this to me. It was still difficult to believe that this mark was what was keeping me in this strange body....that it was the cause for all of the feelings I'd been experiencing.

My mind rested on that thought for a moment, remembering the things I'd experienced. I quickly began feeling those sensations building up inside of me, and this time I didn't even try to stop them. After only a quick glance at my broken door, wedged shut poorly, I set my mirror down and slid off my new panties off I wouldn't ruin them, and climbed onto my bed to mount my pillow.

I faced my door this time, not that it would afford me any extra protection if Tom decided to walk in on me again. Resting my little cock on the soft pillowcase, I began making small motions, building my rhythm as my pleasure rose. I was sure to keep quiet this time, only letting out a muffled squeak as I came, globs of cum oozing out of me as I trembled in my ecstasy.

I fell onto my side, sucking in air for a moment before I remembered all the work I had put into my hair, and I pulled myself up. Noticing my gooey mess, I stripped my pillowcase and tossed it into the corner for laundry later. Holding myself upright as the ebbs and flows of my orgasm faded was a chore, but I managed. When I finally felt like myself again, I checked my phone to see what time it was. It was nearly time to think about leaving. Collecting myself, I checked my hair and makeup in the mirror before pulling open my broken door and striding excitedly down the hall towards the living room.

I expected to see Tom in his usual spot on the couch, but he was nowhere to be found. After noticing his costume bag missing, I figured he was getting dressed, and I settled in to wait for him. I needn't have bothered, because the moment I was easing myself down onto the couch I heard his bedroom door open and I walked to where I would be able to see him down the hall.

He was fiddling with the long red cloak of his 300 costume. He was trying to adjust where the cloak fastened onto the harness holding his leather shoulder plates. His body was bare, showing off his not unimpressive muscles. On his feet, he wore soft leather boots with shin plates. What I found drawing my eyes most though, was his small leather shorts. They barely covered anything, leaving his thighs exposed, and barely covering his ass. He could have just as well been wearing a speedo. The bulge in the front was impressive though.

If I thought I was surprised by how good he looked, Tom's jaw nearly hit the floor when he finally dropped his cloak long enough to look up at me. He stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes soaking in every detail.

"Do you like?" I asked giving a little twirl. I found myself enjoying seeing him like this.

My voice seemed to draw his attention, and he looked up from his open appraisal of my body.

"You look good," he said, trying to play it cool. "Where did you get these costumes?"