A cocksucking service whore for men [transgender]

sexy transvestite on the bed

The evening play party was winding down, and I was still on the “X” frame in the main room. It had been a most memorable evening, having been on display, available to play for whoever wanted to use me. The leather corset I was cinched into had warmed over the last few hours, so it was reasonably comfortable particularly with the way my chest was heaving in exertion from the whipping. I was cognizant of the feel of the nylons covering my long legs, and the stress of wearing 5” fuck me pumps all night.

Mistress came over and unclipped my wrist and ankle cuffs, and led me to a soft couch to rest. She brushed my hair out of my eyes, and leaned forward and whispered, “good performance slut, there’s one guest who was very impressed and he wants to meet you. Go into the bathroom and make yourself presentable.” She patted my head when she stood; Mistress is so considerate.

In the powder room, I took my comb out of my bag and brushed my shoulder-length hair into shape, letting it fall around my face in soft curls. It had been more of a pain slut party, so my lips had not been around any cocks, therefore they were not swollen. Knowing how hot it looked, I applied Bee Sting to give me a pouty look and applied several coats of deep red lipstick. I tucked into my thong, slipped into a leather open bottom punishment skirt and was ready.
Reentering the room, Mistress told me to go into the side room, and kneel on the carpet in the presentation pose. I did so and was very aware of the passage of time as I was about to be presented to a man that found me very interesting. I love submitting to Women of all ages, but there is something so magical for a transgendered slut to be taken by a Man, right?

Here comes the cock

Soon the door entered and Mistress and a man entered. “Slut, this is Roger. He was most impressed with you tonight and wants to get to know you better. Be a good girl, and make me proud,” was her instructions.

Mistress left, and Roger came over to me, placed his hand under my chin, and raised my face. He was dressed in leather pants and a Black T-shirt, nice boots on his feet, and open fingered gloves. About 6’ plus, nicely built.

“I was most impressed tonight girl, most impressed. Mistress tells me you are very compliant and willing when you serve. Is this correct?”

I am most respectful when speaking to those who dominate me, so in my best breathy voice, answered, “Yes Sir, I am a very good and pleasing slut.”
“Oh we shall see my girl, we shall see,” he said as he unzipped his pants and fished out a thick and long cock. “Get your lips around me and show me,” he said, guiding him into my willing and open mouth.

I began licking his shaft, long sensuous strokes, tilting my heat to move my hair to the side. He scooped it up in his hands and pulled me to his cock head, pushing me down to where I engulfed his 9” meat and nuzzled into his leather covered body. I went limp inside and began sliding up and down taking him all the way in and out. My other hand reached into his pants and began caressing his heavy balls, stroking and gently squeezing in the way I was taught to worship cock.

He must have liked it, for he began thrusting more and more, his fleshing bulging in my mouth as I felt his cum erupt in my throat. Eight or nine pumps and I was sucking him harder and harder until the flood was over. He pulled out and sat down, his now sated penis still hanging out of his pants.
“That was most enjoyable girl, very accomplished cock sucking,” as he zipped up. Out of his pocket, he produced a name card, which he tucked into the top of my corset. “Can you be there Wednesday at 8 pm? It’s not far, and I know you will enjoy yourself. You can change and dress when you arrive.”

“Of course Sir, I have nothing planned for tomorrow, and If I did, I would reschedule,” was the proper response. When men want you, plans change, yes?

“Super, I will text you a confirmation then,” he said with a beautiful smile that had me feeling very cunty inside. I wanted him in all the ways that I could right then.

The drive home, to say the least, was filled with dreams of service and submission.

It took forever before Wednesday came, just forever waiting for a text, call or email. Yes, I was impatient; yes I am a needy slut.

I was in the tub, legs and everything else shaved smooth around 7 when the text came in:

“Be there @ 8. Wear a tight skirt. Txt when u arrive – R

A boy to a slut

trans slut in sheer shirtOh be still my fluttering heart, I almost came right there. Getting out and drying off, I applied scented lotion and powder, got the hanging bag and toys, and left the house.

It was a short drive, and soon I found myself in a very upscale neighborhood, big houses, curved driveways, big lawns. Rounding a curve, I saw the house number next to a gate and pulled up in the driveway.
“I am here, Sir,” I texted.

The reply came quickly as the gate began to open, “pull round right, enter @ door with yellow light. Instruct inside.”

Pulling around the right side of the house, I saw a yellow light above a door. I parked next to it and walked up to the door, opening it and locking it behind me. Smiling, I entered what looked to be the Kitchen.

On the countertop was a handwritten note, “to the right is a small maid’s suite. Get yourself ready and join me in the living room – R.

The Maid’s suite was actually a really nice mini apartment off the Kitchen, with en-suite bathroom and nice bed space. In the bathroom, I did two quick bulb douches with water. I had given myself an enema before I left, but you have to do a final rinse you know. I pride my pussy being clean and ready for fucking.
I stripped my boring boy clothes and started getting ready. Garter belt holding up a fresh pair of Berkshire lace top stockings, which looked great on my smooth and toned legs. Snug gaff, tucking my boy bits back and making everything smooth. I slipped into my special bra and C+ silicone breast forms, which is a great look underneath the sheer mesh long sleeve top. Men like their slut’s to have a visible bra.

Next was my 36” leather underbust corset, and I took time to cinch it up as evenly as possible. It forms my shape and hugs my body and makes me feel so special as a lover is embracing me all the time. I knew tonight was not to be an exception.

Roger had requested a tight leather skirt, and the one I brought would fulfill the requirement. “A” line, with a rear zipper from hem to the waistline, I was made for my corseted figure and did the job. My hips and bottom, compressed by the corset, filled the leather beautifully. I lowered the zipper to just below my knees, so I was confined, but could still walk. I had a feeling I was not going to be wearing the skirt very long, but you never know. I slipped a pair of 5” black square-toed fuckme me pumps on my nylon covered feet, which are particularly comfortable but very sexy.

I sat down at the vanity and finished my makeup. I had already done my eyes before I left, very nice and subtle. I had applied some “bee sting” ointment, which I reserve for special, very special occasions before I left my house, so I had nice pouty lips which I covered with several coats of what I call cocksucking red lipstick.

I pulled my hair into a ponytail, up high and girlish, and tied a black ribbon around it that hung down my back with my hair. I tightened the laces of the corset some more and finished with a wide elastic belt that provided a nice transition from the skirt to the top of the corset. The last touch was a pair of short, wrist length kid leather gloves. I looked in the mirror, and I looked fiercely hot, the image of a good slut, ready to please her Master. A drop of Obsession on my wrists and behind my ears and I was done.

Into a small purse, I slipped the lipstick, a small mirror, condoms (must be prepared, right girls?) and some poppers. I left the room and walked out of the kitchen, my heels making that magical sound on the hardwood floors.
It was easy to find the living room from the light of the fireplace, casting flickering forms over this soon to be den of seduction and submission. Roger was on the leather couch, wearing a silk dressing gown, and nothing else. He looked to be sipping a martini.

I walked up and presented myself, doing a slow turn, thrusting hips and ass, as I felt his eyes devouring me.

“There’s a pitcher of martinis and olives on the sideboard, chilled glasses in the ‘fridge. Make yourself a drink, I hope you like Grey Goose,” as he motioned over to the edge of the room.

“Whoever invented Vodka should be sainted, Sir, “was all I needed to say. Pouring the chilled mixture into the glass and adding some olives on a pick, I walked over to the couch and sat next to him. The tight skirt made it easy to keep my legs together all ladylike when all wanted to do was spread lewdly for him.

We sipped our drinks, making harmless chit-chat about how long I had known Mistress, how free I was with my time (take me, I am yours), and other things. I could see a growing bulge in his dressing gown, and knew he was as excited as I was, and knew that things would start soon. The vodka was providing a nice mellow buzz.

He took my hand and told me to kneel on the carpet next to him, which I did immediately. The plush rug felt nice on my legs and knees.

He took out a small box and proceeded to run a few lines of coke, which he did, then ran a few more for me. Sharply inhaling, I felt the beautiful rush as it hit my system. He opened his legs and I repositioned myself between them, and he undid the robe’s tie and let me see his cock for the first time that evening.
I could see a small glistening drop of precum, which I licked as I knelt closer and began worshiping him. Leather covered hands on his beautiful testicles, the other on his shaft, stroking as I planted small kisses, waiting for further instructions.

A party toy

He leaned back, shifted a bit and said those magic words, “suck my cock slut, that’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”

I opened my lips, and brought his full and hard shaft into my mouth, opening and accommodating his length as I became what I am, a cocksucking whore for men. Up and down, up and down I took him until my face was nuzzling his pubic hairs and I was surrounded by hot flesh and muscular legs.

I felt him shift and sit up and soon felt the zipper of my skirt rising up my thighs until it was at the wide belt, which left me completely exposed. I felt his big hands on my ass, one finger down the crease of my buttocks, teasing my greedy hole through my thong.

That got me going even faster, sucking him deeper and deeper up and down, transported to that special world when I live, a man’s cock in my mouth, hand full of shaft and balls, surrounded by his musk, his essence as I felt that special hardness, that quivering and I knew the moment was at hand, his glorious orgasm was near.

He dropped back, gripped the back of my head and pulled me into him as he, for the second time in our relationship, unloaded his delicious cum into my throat, filling me with his seed, breeding my mouth, making me, marking me as his cocksucking whore.

His flesh was softening, the last bits of cum on my tongue. I sat back on my heels and looked up at him. The next thing I knew, he had leaned forward and pulled me with his arms against him, locking us in a deep French kiss, his tongue probing my mouth, where I am sure he could taste his essence in my mouth.
I got up, stepped over his legs and stood next to him. Unzipping the last inches of my skirt, which I placed over the back of the couch, I picked up his empty glass and walked over to the sideboard.

“Shaken or stirred, Sir,” I asked. The night was young.

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