What Choice Did I Have?

Suddenly, he threw his arms around my chest and pulled me to him. It was then I realized he was softly crying.

"Devon, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" I asked him.

He didn't answer for the longest time. He finally cleared his throat and blew his nose.

"John," he said so softly I barely heard him. "I'm going to miss you so-so much...."

I knew his father insisted on sending him to a very strict religious college in the fall.

"Devvy, that's three months from now...we still have all summer," I said.

"John, I'm scared," he said. "I don't know if I can live without you...everything I know about girls and life I learned from you...I want you to know I have lived vicariously through you for years...I've never done anything on my own -- my life is a big fat zero -- completely meaningless!"

"Devon, stop it! Quit beating yourself up! It's not your fault your father is a control freak. You are eighteen now and if you don't want to go to that school you don't have to..."

And trying to lighten the mood I added, "Besides, I'm not sure you living all of my failures with girls is healthy. I mean, how many times have I cried on your shoulders after my dates? I've struck out so many times I've considered taking myself out of the game!"

"I've never kissed a girl, John...never even been close...you've kissed a lot of girls...Mary Mac told me you're a great kisser...at least you have that," he said.

Instead of cheering him up, I became feeling as sad as Devon.

"Devvy, you know those times after my dates you'd ask me if I got any? I always lied to you. I never got laid...Jennifer never gave me that blowjob I said she did...Misty didn't love playing with my cock -- hell, she refused to even touch it...the only times I ever get off is when I masturbate -- and that's more times than I want to admit."

Devon's hands began massaging my chest. I could feel his hot breath on my neck. Suddenly he pressed his hot, moist lips to the nape of my neck and every hair on my body stood straight.

"Devvy, what are you doing?" I asked him.

"John, please forgive me...I am so lonely...the only times I feel alive is when I'm with you..."

"It's okay...I understand...I'm lonely too...Devvy, I've relied on you too for closeness..."

"Would you do me a huge favor, John?"

"Sure, of course...what is it?"

"I don't know how to ask this...it isn't something one guy asks another guy."

"OH...uh, just go ahead and ask me."

"Would you teach me how to be a good kisser? I am so scared that when I finally get the chance to kiss a girl I'll be so bad that she'll run away from me...that would destroy me!"

Oh my goodness...what do I say now?

He quickly added: "No one will ever know, John -- just you and me -- I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Devvy, I, uh..."

"Is it because I'm fat and ugly, John? I don't blame you...."

"Devvy, no, you're not fat and ugly -- stop it!"

"It doesn't matter," he said. His voice then cracked and I thought he was crying again. "No girl would ever want to kiss me anyway."

I broke free from his hands, turned to face him, then pressed my lips to his. He responded immediately and in less than thirty-seconds we were embracing and kissing as passionately as I ever had with any girl.

I couldn't believe it when my prick stiffened inside my briefs.

I couldn't believe it when I felt Devvy's hand rubbing my hard prick thru my jeans.

I couldn't believe it when I allowed him to open my jeans, take out my erection and begin stroking it.

I couldn't believe it when I opened his pants and took another guys cock in my hand for the first time in my life.

***

Tommy kissed me again then asked, "What was the name of the boy you had a fling with?"

"Devvy -- I mean, Devon," I answered dreamily.

"How old were you boys?" Tommy asked.

"Eighteen...we just graduated from high school," I said.

"What did you boys do for each other? Handjobs? Blowjobs? Assfucking?"

"Noooo, just handjobs," I answered quickly.

"Are you sure? You're not lying to me are you, sweetie?"

"Well, uh, later on Devvy would take mine in his mouth."

"Did you ever suck your boyfriends cock?"

"No, no way...."

"Well, sweetie, you know there's a first time for everything!"

***

I slowly remembered what Tommy had me do for him the night before.

Whether it was my imagination or not, I could still feel the imprint of Tommy's hard cock on my hand. He'd had me reach into his boxers and squeeze and stroke his hot manhood. I remembered I'd almost cum in the panties the moment I touched it.

Ohhh, I moaned as my prick stiffened and rubbed against the satin top sheet. I was about to turn on my stomach so I could grind my prick into the erotic softness of the satin bed sheet when I abruptly stopped.

"Sweetie, if you want to be my boy I have rules you will need to live by," Tommy had said to me. "Number one is I expect, no, I demand your total obedience...a boy like you must always remember his man's needs and desires are the two most critical aspects of a man/boy relationship..."

A man/boy relationship? What the heck is he talking about?

I intended to strongly object to that term, but for some reason didn't and then heard myself say, "Yes, Tommy."

"A close number two is the fact I will own you...if you want my love, protection, and admiration, you must submit to me body and soul...that means your thoughts as well as your tiny dick now belong to me...I will decide when you have earned the privilege of ejaculating...it goes without saying your man's pleasure is your utmost priority and responsibility...your orgasm is inconsequential in our relationship...therefore you will NEVER pleasure yourself without my approval -- do you understand me, sweetie?"

OH MY HELL -- are you going to sit here John, and let him talk to you this way?

When he gripped my panty-covered dick with two fingers and gently stroked it all resistance drained from my inner being.

***

I groaned with frustration and reached beneath the top sheet and fondled my hard little dick.

Suddenly, the bedroom door swung open and in walked Tommy. My hand instantly stopped moving on my prick. Tommy stood beside the bed, leaned down and kissed me full on the lips. I moaned and kissed him back.

In one swift movement, Tommy pulled back the bedspread and top sheet exposing the most blatant violation of his rules -- my hard prick was in my hand!

"Oh Johnny, am I going to have to teach you the hard way? When we get home from golf this afternoon, I am going to have to take you over my knees and give you a sound spanking for your disobedience...that is of course dependent upon whether you WANT to be my boy or not?"

"I-I am so s-sorry, Tommy, I can't control my urges," I blurted out.

"Sweetie, do you WANT to be my boy?" he asked point-blank.

How else could I answer that question? Not only had Tommy made a video of me wearing the pink panties, but also a video of me kneeling between his legs with lips wrapped around his manly cock. I would simply die of humiliation if he posted them online. What choice did I have?

"Y-Yes, Tommy, I do want to be your boy," I answered quickly.

"You have made me a very happy man, Johnny," he said stroking my chest.

He gave my lips another sweet kiss then said, "Get up sleepyhead, you have just enough time to take a shower before we have to leave for the golf course."

"Oh, okay Tommy," I said and immediately rolled out of bed.

I tried to cover my erection with my hand but Tommy gently slapped it away.

"Sweetie, I love seeing your cute little dicky standing straight out -- don't ever try to keep it from my view," he scolded me.

"Yes Tommy, I am s-sorry Tommy."

While he walked me to the bathroom his hand slowly stroked my foreskin back and forth on my erection. His touch made me weak in the knees.

Once inside the bathroom the urge to take a leak became overwhelming. I lifted the toilet seat and was about to unleash a torrent of piss when I heard his words from the night before.

"Sweetie, from now on whenever you have to pee, and it doesn't matter where we are, you will sit on the seat like a girl, do you understand me?"

"Y-Yes, Tommy," I replied blushing three shades of red.

I lowered the seat and sat down, used two fingers to push back the foreskin and pissed like a race horse.

Above me Tommy stroked my hair and simply said, "Good boy...good boy."

For the first time ever, when I finished peeing I tore off one square of toilet paper and dabbed at my pee slit.

Tommy's enthusiastic "Good boy -- good boy" actually warmed my heart.

***

Tommy drove the golf cart and between shots would ask questions about my life.

He never called me 'John' or 'Johnny' all day. It was either 'Sweetie' or 'Sweetheart' or 'Cutie' or 'Sexy' or 'Honey' or 'Dear'...terms of endearment men generally use with their wives or girlfriends.

It bothered the heck out of me at first that Tommy treated me more like a feckless female than his male friend or peer.

When we parked golf course parking lot, I was first to reach the trunk of the car and was about to lift out our golf bags when he stopped me by saying, "Oh no, sweetie, the bags are much too heavy for YOU to lift!"

I was flustered and embarrassed but remained silent.

After nine holes, I reached for my wallet to buy us beverages at the club house but he said to me, "Sweetheart, you save your money so you can buy yourself something pretty."

Huh? What?

When he and I went to the men's room, I walked towards the urinals with him then saw the scowl on Tommy's face and immediately made a right turn into one of the stalls.

Back in the golf cart he patted my head and said, "Good boy."

Standing on a tee box waiting for the group in front of us, Tommy casually asked me, "So what kind of penis did your boyfriend have?"

His question so surprised me I stammered, "Uh, well, uh---"

"Was his penis long and thick? Short and fat? Or was it the size of your little dicky?"

My face burned red.

"Surely his penis was bigger than your little dicky, right?"

"Well, uh, yes it was bigger than my, uh, little dicky," I softly replied.

"Sweetheart, please speak in complete sentences -- what was bigger?" he pressed me.

"Uh, his penis was bigger than my penis," I softly said.

My heart pounded and a lump formed in my throat. I really did not want to discuss the size of Devon's penis.

"Your penis?" he said disapprovingly.

"Oh, I mean my, uh, 'little dicky'," I corrected myself.

"Good boy," he said.

"Did you love having his hard penis in your hand?"

Oh my hell -- when is this 'penis' talk going to end?

"Yes," I said softly. "I loved having his hard penis in my hand."

"You loved stroking his hard penis and making him cum, didn't you, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Tommy...I loved stroking his hard penis and making him cum," I admitted for the first time in my life.

"Why didn't you take his hard penis in your mouth? You wanted to, didn't you?"

Oh no...this was one of those rare moments in life where the truth totally conflicted with the image I had formed of myself in my mind.

I immaturely thought if I didn't answer him, he would move on to another topic.

"Sweetie, you wanted to suck his hard cock, didn't you?"

The words just gushed out of my mouth.

"Okay, yes...yes I wanted to suck his hard cock!"

"You wanted to suck his hard cock and make him cum in your mouth?"

"Yesss...I wanted to suck his hard cock and make him cum in my mouth!"

"Why didn't you take his hard cock in your mouth, sweetie?"

"He wouldn't let me...he thought I was too manly to do something like that."

"He was totally wrong about you, wasn't he sweetheart? You're not manly at all, are you?"

And once again the truth conflicted with my self-image.

"No...no I'm not manly at all...."

"Good boy, sweetheart, doesn't it make you feel better that you're learning a lot of new things about yourself today?"

"Uh, I guess so," I said.

But truth be told, the sad emptiness I felt admitting the truth about myself left me in such a state of loneliness and despair, I wasn't sure I would be able to recover my sense of self ever again.

And Tommy was relentless. The next topic for discussion was my love of panties.

He made me describe in great detail the day I decided to wear my mother's yellow, nylon panties and masturbate inside of them.

"Sweetie, that is nothing to be embarrassed about," he said. "Boys like you often have peculiar fetishes..."

When we finished the round of golf, Tommy turned to me and said, "Johnny, everything you've said to me today tells me you are not a real man...you are not a real man, are you, sweetie?"

I hung my head and agreed. "No...I guess I'm not a real man."

"In fact, sweetie, you are more like a girl than a boy, aren't you?"

I certainly never thought I'd say these words to anyone:

"Maybe you're right Tommy...I am more like a girl than a boy."

"Oh, there's no 'maybe' about it, sweetie!"

Dear readers, please don't get me wrong. At no time did I construe Tommy's words as cruel or mean-spirited. He never raised his voice, nor did I ever consider his stinging comments as a personal insult.

No, I understood he was trying to help me open my own eyes as to who I really am and not an attempt on his part to emasculate me.

Even when he'd said things like "You have the finely chiseled beauty of a Greek Goddess" and "Your delicate features remind me of a pretty doll my niece once loved" did I ever think he intentionally was trying to hurt me.

I held Tommy in such high regard, and respected, and admired him so much, I knew full well I had a huge crush on him; I gave his every utterance my full attention.

Heck, I'd known for a long time there was something wrong with me. I mean, what kind of boy is more interested in girls panties than the girl herself?

What kind of boy feels 100% more comfortable talking and laughing with guys than girls?

What kind of boy willingly enters into a homosexual relationship with his best friend?

What kind of boy gets an erection whenever he's with a gorgeous and charismatic man?

When Tommy drove the golf cart to the parking lot and once again I made a move to help load the bags into the trunk, he said, "Sweetie, this a man's job."

I blushed but didn't say a word.

Afterwards, we went to the lounge and Tommy bought us a couple glasses of wine. They so relaxed me I instantly felt better about myself.

When we stood beside his car, Tommy said, "I love the tinted windows...they guarantee complete privacy!"

It was the second time he mentioned the 'tinted windows' and I wondered what that was about.

We were inside the car and Tommy said, "Sweetheart, come sit next to me."

"Yes, Tommy," I replied.

He took me in his arms and kissed me so hard I instantly sprung a boner.

We kissed and embraced then his hand found mine and placed it on the bulge in his shorts.

I was thrilled our kisses had given him a hard-on.

Without being told, I traced my hand back and forth over the large outline of his manly erection trapped inside his cotton Dockers.

Somehow, someway, I instinctively knew how to use my fingers to lightly stroke and yes, even tease his rigid pole of manly flesh thru his slacks.

And with my hand moving oh-so tantalizingly slow over his hot and twitching erection, I experienced a moment of such extreme clarity and self-awareness - a moment a person may have once or twice in their entire lifetime - the purpose and meaning of my existence on this sometimes dreary planet became glaringly obvious: I am queer little sissyboy and I love being in love with a strong and dominant, wonderful man.

"Sweetie, open my pants and take out my cock," his hot breath whispered in my ear.

Oh my hell this is exciting!

"Yes, Tommy," I said and obeyed his command.

When I wrapped my hand around his hot pole of flesh my little dicky throbbed and pulsated. The ache in my balls was admission of my guilt: Yes, okay, I love and adore hard, manly cocks.

"Sweetheart, do you want to suck my cock for me?" he softly asked.

"Ohhhhhhh," I groaned from his dirty question. "Oh my goodness, Tommy...yes -- yes, I want to suck your cock for you!"

I lowered my head to his crotch and his manly aroma assaulted my nostrils. Eighteen holes of golf had made his cock and balls pungent, but not at all offensive. I breathed in deeply thru my nose and soon became so excited by his manly smell the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight.

I suddenly knew why he'd made a point of mentioning the tinted windows: no one would be able to see what we were doing inside the car, or rather...no one would be able to see my head bobbing up and down while I sucked on his manly cock.

I kissed and licked at his wonderfully hard penis. I trailed my tongue from the base of the shaft up to the plum-sized glans.

"Sweetheart, we'll have plenty of time for that later," he said. "You're going to have a long session between my legs tonight...for now, suck me off the best you can -- I can't wait to shoot my load in your mouth and hear you swallow it all...would you like that too, sweetheart?"

"Ohhhh, yes, Tommy, I want to taste your cum more than anything," I moaned.

And suddenly I was free from my long festering resentment of my passivity and submissiveness.

As I joyfully moved my lips and tongue up and down his rock hard flesh, the unmanageable weight of the entire world was no longer a crushing burden on my soul.

There is absolutely nothing in the world that can compare with having the hard penis of the man you love inside your mouth and hearing his grunts and moans of pleasure.

EPILOGUE

I was floating on cloud-nine when the phone call ended.

After three-years, Devon had contacted my parents and they gave him my number. I had always felt guilty about that last day I saw him.

He and I were on the sofa in his basement kissing and fondling one another. Our jeans and undies down to our knees. Our hands rapidly stroking each other's hard prick.

Suddenly out of nowhere, his father came stomping down the steps and saw what we were doing.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU LITTLE FAGGOTS?" he shouted with blind rage.

I fell off the sofa scrambling to pull up my undies and jeans.

He stood so close to me I could smell the beer on his breath.

"Get the hell out of here you little queer -- you're not going to turn my boy into a faggot!" he yelled at me. "If you ever so much as say 'hi' to him again, I'll call your folks and the cops and let them know you seduced my son."

"B-B-But I---"

"GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE -- NOW!!" he screamed.

Before I reached the stairs I saw him rip the belt from his slacks. He then pulled Devon, still naked from the waist down, across his lap and wildly swung the belt at my friends exposed buttocks.

SMACK -- SMACK -- SMACK -- SMACK -- SMACK - SMACK -- SMACK!!!!!

"DADDY, NO, PLEASE STOP -- PLEASE DADDY PLEASE!!!" pleaded Devon.

The last thing I heard before walking out the door was the cruel old man screaming, "NO BOY OF MINE IS EVER GOING TO BE A FAGGOT!!"

I remember bitterly thinking, "Too late old man!"

And now life was good again. Devon had taken my advice and refused to go to the religious school his dad had insisted upon.

He moved into an apartment with a 'friend' of his and now he and his 'friend' are engaged to be married.

We reminisced about the good times and conveniently forgot about the bad times. I promised him I'd go to his wedding.

I told him I found a nice man too, and we were very happy together. He sounded very, very happy and I was very, very happy for him.

***

Karen noticed my obvious discomfort as I gingerly settled my buttocks onto the chaise lounge beside hers.

She chuckled softly then asked, "So why did he spank you this time, sweetie? Did you leave the cap off the toothpaste?"