Caught Crossdressing: Voyeurism, humiliation, and sissy sex

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Caught Crossdressing: Voyeurism, humiliation, and sissy sex

Postby queenviolet » Sat May 04, 2019 6:54 am

Hello fellow sissies! I’m a brand-spanking-new author that recently published my first book titled “Caught Crossdressing: Voyeurism, humiliation, and sissy revenge”. It’s about a boy named Tim who undergoes a sissy transformation to overcome the pain of learning his crush has been stolen away a much older man. It’s a great read if you want to read deeply about both physical and mental transformation of a crossdresser, and it for sure hits all the typical romantic beats and more!

Here’s a little preview. If you enjoy this snippet, you can see the full version on Amazon: amazon[dot]com/dp/B07RGBT4JB

Also, sign up for my mailing list to hear about new stories: mailchi[dot]mp/09b6ba66e7d5/pu3p8g9lwj

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Part 1: Sexplorations

Chapter 1: Secrets

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us, hunny?” my mother said, speaking in her soothing tone through my closed door.

“No, I’m not feeling too well.” I said from under my covers, putting on the most convincing sick voice I could. If I was being honest, I think I mastered the throat clear, the raspiness, the cough between words. Let’s just say, you get good at things when you do it a thousand times. Besides, as nice as my mother and Tom were, I had other plans other than spending another night pretending to be the goody two-shoes she thinks I am.

“Okay well. Tom and I will be going then. I’ll leave some money on the table for you to order some pizza if you get hungry. Bye!”

Yeah, like, totally, mom. Like I was really going to spend money on food that would fatten me up. That totally goes against the secret lifestyle I’ve been living this past year, a secret that you haven’t detected one bit. The sissy lifestyle!

And, one of the sissy rules were: A sissy must maintain a feminine physique. There were a bunch of these rules I memorized, some were:



A sissy must wear panties when she sleeps

A sissy know her submissive role in the presence of a man

A sissy must never talk back to a man, unless it is deliberate disrespect to force the man to demonstrate his dominance by any means...



There were other rules, sexual rules, oh, so many sexual rules, but I’ll get to them later. Don’t get the wrong idea. I love sex. It was always on my mind. Imagining hot, sculpted bodies of ripped men, their hung... well, you know what, and their control! There was something so sexy when I fantasized of men taking control of the situation, even non-sexual situations. I say fantasize, because, well, I was a virgin. Yep, I was a virgin—not an oral experience, unless you count kissing. And, that was with a girl back in middle school—icky. I don’t know how I once thought I was ever straight. I guess everyone is brainwashed as a kid to a certain degree.

“Bye.” I said, then I put on my most convincing dying cough.

“Okay, well, just remember that I love you hunny.”

And, I laid quiet in my bed flat on my back. I listened intently, hoping to hear the sounds of the front door shutting and the lock clicking so I can start living out my secret life. It had been an entire week since I crossdressed. I mean, sure, I had been sleeping with panties, and following all the rules I could, but they never felt as good compared to when I could move freely around the house. By the way, by crossdress, I just mean putting on nothing but a pair of panties. I know, it’s a bit different from other people’s definition of crossdressing, but remember, we’re only at the start of my story.

I had three pairs of panties, and when I first stole them, I never thought once of putting them on... at first, at least. When I stole them, I was still “straight”. It was during summer break a few years ago, when the neighbours across the street left town. I don’t want to get too into the story right now, but these panties belonged to my long-time childhood crush Alice. All you need to know about Alice for now is that she used to be the queen during elementary and junior school. I mean, all the teachers loved her, she was always raising her hands, and she always had a group of girls surrounding her in the school yard. It was the exact opposite of what you saw on television, the princess blondes were following Alice around, a brown-eyed, brunette girl next door type.

For some reason I never understood, she became withdrawn during high school. People still saw her around school, but she became absent minded. Slowly, her friends started leaving her one-by-one, and eventually by senior year, she was eating alone in the cafeteria. The most eery part was the she seemed to not have notice a single thing all throughout high school. I remember fancy cars playing music filled with popular girls and guys driving up to her house, knocking on her door. Most of the time her parents answered, but other times the people outside would just wait until they decided nobody was home. The crazy part? Alice was always home. Like I said, I lived across her, and I noticed that every time the car would drive off, there would be a movement in the curtains in Alice’s room. It was like she was watching them, making sure they were gone so she could return to whatever she was doing in her room, alone. And yes, she was alone, because I can easily see from my room and living room who knocks on the door of my neighbours house.

My train of thought gets cut off by the muffled complaints of Tom, my mom’s boyfriend:

“....not normal... outside once in a while... I know I’m not... okay...”

Tom was a big guy, especially when you compare him to my mother. He was about 6’6” and my mother was a measly 5’0”. That’s a full foot and a half. He worked construction, and he overall he was a nice guy, just not so book smart. I liked him for my mom, because he seemed to make her happy enough. The only problem was that, he was street smart, and I knew since the first time I met him last year, that he had a suspicion of me. I don’t know how he picked up on it so well, but he did.

The front door finally shut. I roll onto my stomach and crawl to the side of my bed, which is right beside the window. It’s dark outside but my blinders are slightly open. They can’t possibly see me, because the lights are turned off in my room, but I can see them. Tom’s truck was a beat-up red pick-up truck, I mean, I can see the paint peeling from here. He kept a bunch of construction supplies in the back. I watch Tom open the door for my mom, and I can clearly see how this makes her feel like she’s in heaven.

As Tom walks around the truck to get into his seat. The light from the headlights reflect off the garage door, outlining his masculine facial features... especially his scruffy beard. He seriously had a face that looked like whoever was making him forgot to turn off the testosterone. His jaw lines had perfect shadows, he had that perfect T shape eyes and nose, and his body was built like a machine from all the construction work. Suddenly, his head turned towards my window. The charming, smiling face he put on for my mother disappeared instantly, replaced with a cold, dead look. It was as if his eyes were cameras and snapped a candid photograph of me. I suddenly felt really naked, as if he had caught me red-handed in some forbidden act.

There was no way he could see me, and I know that for sure, but it still felt like he could. I watched as he opened the door and got into his truck. When my mother turned to him and held his hand, he turned to her, cranking up the charm.

My mind was buzzing, and I was in a state of delirium. I lost track of my thought, and I am sure I had a lifeless look on my face as I watched them pull out of the driveway and drive down the street. When I finally somewhat got back to my senses, I realize my beat red cock is throbbing and peaking out through the top of Alice’s panties. I reach down, realizing I couldn't remember the last time I was this hard, and feeling the wet lines left on my panties that oozed out the red tip of my cock as I unconsciously grew erect.




Chapter 2: Finally, home alone
To tell you the truth, I don’t know who I am. My mother calls me Timothy, Timmy, or Tim, depending on the reason. Timothy when she’s disciplining me, Timmy when she’s dotting me, and Tim when there’s others in company. She calls me Timmy when Tom was around. She always found it funny that she was dating a Tom and she had a son named Tim. She was the type to always made a deal out of it whenever all three of us were out in public, she would say things like “Meet Tim and Tom. Unrelated.” or “Tom and Tim, Tim and Tom, both halves of my life.” to waitresses, ushers, or really anyone we’re forced with to have annoying small talk when out in public.

I called myself Penny. At least, that was the online username I went by. It was one of the rules of a sissy:



A sissy must have a distinct name that makes them think, feel, and act like a sissy.



Penny was the perfect name for me. I’m the type to think a whole lot about these kind of things, and I think I came to Penny because of two things. The first reason is that Penny sounded feminine, just try saying it. I think it’s because it rhymes with words like honey, tummy, or sunny. All light, playful words and it even feels good when you say it, the singers will know what I mean when I say this. The second reason is that the word itself meant something cheap but essential.

My mother and I were by no means poor. Don’t be fooled by my mom dating some construction worker. She had a high management position at some tech firm. Our entire neighbourhood was gentrified. So why did I like cheap? Because it was how I felt and wanted to be treated. I loved the idea of being used by anyone, and always had. I remember growing up, I was the most servile person you could imagine, always doing this or that for somebody else but never for myself. I can’t remember the last time I took the lead in anything, I’ve always been a passive recipient of life... and that is why I started to become Penny. See, guys don’t get very far in life as a passive recipient... but girls? The entire world can be wrapped around their finger tips if they just let others in. You can guess what I mean when I say that.

Still throbbing, I slipped out of bed and walked towards my study desk. I sat down, flipped open my laptop, and opened the internet browser. It’s not like I wasn’t browsing when mom and her boyfriend were here, in fact, that was my favourite part... it was the element of hiding something so secret that made things so exciting. As if, if anyone were to ever find out, everything would be lost. My browser had a nice mix of tabs already open, most were sissy blogs and a few were videos from porn websites.

One of my favourite parts of browsing the internet was that you will always find someone who was just as freaky as you. I opened a new tab in the browser and clicked on the address bar and typed in “craigslist.com”. It’s such a simple site, and nobody would suspect what goes on behind the scenes. If only people really knew... I click “casual encounters” and choose “m4m”.

I know what you were wondering, why am I browsing casual encounters if I was a virgin? Well, why do people go to the zoo? They like to see what’s out there. Plus, I mean, it’s not like I never thought of meeting up with a guy and having sex... let me just say, I’m not as innocent as you think. Those rules that I’ve been telling you about? How do you think I know them so well? There are videos called “sissy hypnosis” that I listen to discretely, and they are pretty effective at brainwashing. In fact, I couldn’t remember my real name for an entire day after I had a sissy hypnosis session. I know it sounds unrealistic, but it’s true, I spent the entire day trying to remember, and it wasn’t until my mother called me down for dinner before I finally remembered that I was Tim.

It was so thrilling to see how honest people were about their primal instincts online. Anonymity is such a beautiful thing. I mean, really think about it, when you’re out in public at the mall, everyone seems like their normal. But, I guarantee you, every single one of those people have some crazy sex fantasies, and one in ten have a sex fantasy you would never have even conceived! I didn’t really care... people will be freaky... anyways, back to the browsing.

I sort the listings to show “thumbnail” posts only. I never understood why people would post on these websites without including a picture. It’s like trying to attract flies with no honey. You can say that I’m somewhat of an expert at craigslist. I knew all the terminologies after months of browsing.

I always think back whenever I consider meeting up with guys where and when things changed for me. I was definitely attracted to guys now, but like that kiss from before, there was a time that I was genuinely attracted to girls—and I mean girls in general, not just Alice. Actually, my sexual fantasies with girls didn’t really stop until fairly recent... about six months ago, so that means it took six months of the start of my sissy transformation before I began fantasizing strictly about men; some of my favourite fantasies were of successful doctors and business men, black gangsters, prison inmates, and truck drivers. Just the idea of pleasuring them with my mouth, wrapping my tongue around their cocks, sliding my tongue up and down their dicks... all while my hands were busy stroking other guys. I had to be used, every aspect of my body, my mouth, hands, sissy hole, and the visual of me getting fucked. I know men get pleasure just from sight. Men are visual creatures, and don’t ever underestimate that. Why do you think porn is so popular, after all?

Sigh... I dream everyday of hands placed on my hips as I ride a daddy, their hands running up and down my smooth body, and being taken from behind while someone is throat fucking me. I dream of being dressed up in more than just panties... I dream of wearing fishnets, corsets, high heels... getting all bimbo’d up for the pure pleasure of men, and living vicariously by the sights of their faces when they orgasm.

Do most people like the body pictures? I mean, I do love muscular bodies, but when I really think about it... what really matters is how hung they are and how dominant they are. You could be fat or skinny, black or white, rich or poor. I wouldn’t get near you unless you met those two earlier conditions. So you can guess what kind of pictures I looked at.

I saved the listings with cock pictures. I loved the way dicks look, and once you look at thousands and thousands of them, you start to get a handle of what makes a good looking cock. They had to be long, and the girth was just as important. Some cock heads were bigger than the girth, and this wasn’t a good look. My favourite aesthetic was when the cock had a bigger girth around the middle and it tapers at the base and just before the head. It gives the illusion that a massive amount of cum is in the pipeline and ready to gush out bursting into or onto you. God, just thinking about these things... a nice looking cock paired with a sexy man and sexy situation. Like, one fantasy I have is a camping trip getaway with some grizzly lumberjack. There was something about the lumberjack that made one feel so feminine... it was like the flannel, the beard, and the cargo pants was a cue to all sissies, closet or not, to act submissive.

So here’s my theory about cocks... The cock to me represented masculinity, dominance, strength, power, prestige, and all these attractive qualities. Seeing a nice, hung cock would make me scream inside my head. I didn’t care if they were cut or uncut, black or white, the only thing that mattered was that they had to be hung. At least 9 inches long. Seeing monster cocks made me feel weak in my chest, so feminine, so small, so delicate, and I learned to salivate whenever I would see a nice cock.

I think when I see erect cocks, it was so satisfying because it means that you have power over the man it is attached to. I mean, they’re are different theories on this. I see it both ways. Some sissies like to say that they want the man in control, and others dress feminine in order to control men. As for me? I’m kind of both, I’m a switch, in a way. I will be a sex doll for a man at any point, but at the same time will enjoy pushing a man down on the bed and riding him until I cum. My favourite fantasy is actually me tying up some heavyweight boxer, full of tattoos, and riding him until I come on his ripped body. I really hope to live out these fantasies one day, but before I can do that I must become a better looking sissy.

And, what is it about cum shots that turn me on? I feel so good whenever I see cum spurt out of a cock. It’s as if I can feel the orgasm myself. Not only that, but whenever I imagine it’s me satisfying the cock, I feel really confident. Like, the cum was my prize for being a sexy submissive bitch. Of course, this was all in my head. I already told you guys that I’m a virgin, and never really met any guy in-person... yet.

My room is completely dark aside from the blue light from my computer screen. My relieve myself a little by stroking. I was relatively hung, about 7”, but I was a skinny guy. From what I know, I hit the jackpot, because alphas love hung, skinny sissies. The post I am browsing is a posting by an “older dom” who is seeking a “young sub”. The post reads that he’s looking for someone right now, and that he can’t host, but can drive and has drugs. This is, of course, translated from all the craigslist lingo I was telling you about earlier.

I imagine the boy who acts on his sissy impulse and decides to finally give in to his inner desires and meet up with this older guy. The boy probably is wearing a hoodie and jacket, and asks to meet the old man at some dead-end street or abandoned street corner. The old man finally shows up, five minutes late, his car pulling in slow and the lights blind the boy as he pulls in. The boy has last second thoughts, saying he should run, but his curiosity overpowers this and he stays. The car parks and the passenger door opens. The boy stands a few meters away, afraid, looking into the car. He knows that if he enters the car, there is no turning back. He can only see the shadow of the mysterious man against the dim light of a streetlamp—the boy enters the car—

Ring. Ring. Ring.

I jump from my seat. It is my cellphone ringing from my nightstand... With each passing ring, it gets nearer to the edge. It’s my mom calling.

____

Contact: queenvioletbooks@gmail.com

Instagram: @queenvioletbooks

Twitter: @qvioletbooks
queenviolet
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Posts: 2
Joined: Fri May 03, 2019 5:47 pm

Caught Crossdressing: Voyeurism, humiliation, and sissy sex

Postby queenviolet » Sat May 04, 2019 7:05 am

Image

Cost: $2.99 USD

Hello fellow sissies! I’m a brand-spanking-new author that recently published my first book titled “Caught Crossdressing: Voyeurism, humiliation, and sissy revenge”. It’s about a boy named Tim who undergoes a sissy transformation to overcome the pain of learning his crush has been stolen away a much older man. It’s a great read if you want to read deeply about both physical and mental transformation of a crossdresser, and it for sure hits all the typical romantic beats and more!

You can see the full version on Amazon: amazon[dot]com/dp/B07RGBT4JB

Also, sign up for my mailing list to hear about new stories: mailchi[dot]mp/09b6ba66e7d5/pu3p8g9lwj



____

Contact: queenvioletbooks@gmail.com

Instagram: @queenvioletbooks

Twitter: @qvioletbooks
queenviolet
Member
 
Posts: 2
Joined: Fri May 03, 2019 5:47 pm


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