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How did I end up as… well, you’ll see. That’s the whole point of writing this all out. A little story about how my life got flipped, turned upside down. Humorous references aside, my life certainly has changed, and was done on purpose. I guess I should start at the beginning, but that’s difficult. My start was boring. No different than most people, I suppose. I grew up with a single mother, doing all the sort of things normal boys do. High school came and went with a smattering of friends, and hopes for the future.
Money was always tight, especially as I went off to college. The friends I had were casual, friends of convenience and we lost touch quickly. Girls, well, they were pretty great. They didn’t seem to think I was, but they didn’t ignore me either. Puberty hit me hard, at least in the libido. The prototypical horny teen, that’s what I had been. If you’re looking for a beginning, that was one of them. Or being a horny teenager with access to the Internet. It never starts nefariously, but we look for things that excite us, and we enjoy them, and then we look for other things to enjoy, or sometimes new ones find us unexpectedly. I’d learn about all different kind of kinks and fetishes, discarding the ones that didn’t do anything for me while discovering a new one here and there.
My life was bland. I watched TV, went to college, hung out with the occasional friend, the occasional drink, movies, games and lots and lots of masturbating. School became too expensive, and I got my first job, at one of those generic pharmacies. My life was simply too busy for the following years, I had no time for a social life, not that one was overly available to me. School, work, travel time. I didn’t work every night, but I would masturbate multiple times daily, especially after work. It’s funny how quickly I fell into the rhythm that led me to what you can think of as the real beginning. I only had a couple of hours to myself each evening, and many of them were dedicated to porn. If I was watching anything, I’d have my door closed, a pair of earbuds, one unplugged – just in case. It was easier when I was looking at pictures, or reading. Sex amazed me, the things people did, and how easy it was to see anything.
I finished college, and started working full time, at twenty three years old. Life was easy, if boring. My social life was non-existent, as friends drifted apart, doing different things. Not on purpose, just talking less, different schedules and I began to wonder what I was doing. I lived at home, and was just stacking up money, half-heartedly searching for jobs in my field of study, but after a couple of raises, I was already making a decent amount. Saving up seemed smart. I was itching to move out on my own, but held back.
This turned out to be one of the smartest choices I had ever made. Jobs don’t always last forever, and a year later it was gone. Coworkers became Facebook friends, and I relaxed for a while. After all, I had earned it, school was done, work was done, time to enjoy myself for a little bit. That little bit turned into almost a full year. I was bored, killing my time with more movies, games, books, wondering when life would start. Getting a new job was turning out to be much more difficult, and I spent most of my time alone. Mom worked full time, so I had our small home to myself. With all that free time came the ability to get off whenever I wanted. As long as it was masturbating.
My interest in girls was almost purely sexual at this point, and while I had some female friends, they were never close. No girlfriends from school, just almost-girlfriends. I kept in good shape with a gym membership, after all, girls liked guys who kept in shape. I’m not hard on the eyes at all. A bit on the short side at 5’7″, I have to admit I did have the pretty boy look. Not dialed up to ten, or anything like that. I was of average weight, and my face is… well, my face. My eyes are just a bit too big, and my nose a bit too small, my cheekbones just slightly too prominent. Puberty had given me a libido that didn’t seem to ever drop, but had failed to give me much else. I had to shave, but not that often, and I kept myself clean and well groomed. My hair was rather short back then, and I often kept it messy by design, a dull black that I’ve come to quite appreciate, actually. A fine young man, by all appearances.
The problem is, with all that free time I eventually found myself with nothing to do. I had tried dating sites, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to try when I was unemployed. So, I filled my time with more porn. I had a handful of favorites, but what did me in was the femdom. What started as one girl dominating another in some fashion, occasionally there would be men. I’d move on to the next thing, not bothering. Women telling men to suck their strap-on on like a cock, not my thing. Boredom and curiosity, idle hands and such found me watching women cajole a man into sucking cock. It fascinated me to no end: who enjoyed kağıthane escort such a thing? I didn’t feel ashamed about it at all, that seemed silly. I didn’t want to suck a cock, but it was still hot. I questioned my sexuality, as one as much can anyone question a fact. The idea of sex with a man was a turn off to me, yet I still enjoyed watching a beautiful woman convince a man that he should suck dick for her.
The Internet is a blessing and a curse in this sense, as you’re never more than a few clicks or a stray thought away from things you’ve never thought of. I distinctly remember looking at gay porn once, and quickly turning away. I couldn’t even hold the thought in my head, it was too disturbing, yet time after time I sought out this type of femdom. Then came the captions, about sucking dick, about needing it. Cocksucker. An insult suddenly took on a more powerful meaning, and my dick got hard. Stories about wives encouraging husbands to suck cock became stories of girlfriends encouraging their boyfriends to be gay. It took over the majority of what I thought about when horny, though I still loved all of the fun straight kinks I thoroughly enjoyed.
Whereas I could easily imagine myself fucking women in every conceivable fashion, or what it’d feel like to get a blowjob, it didn’t feel like that’d happen anytime soon. But I couldn’t imagine myself as one of the men sucking on a dick. Forced bi became one of my favorite ways to get off. I could simply not imagine myself on my knees. If you were gay, that was fine. I watched movies, TV, I could read the news, and I knew what many people thought about homosexuals. It had never bothered me at all, just another thing that wasn’t for me. At the same time, my life was going nowhere, and going there very quickly. My fascination grew, as I found out about sissies. I found many, many stories of men being encouraged to be bisexual, or pushed into homosexual acts, and enjoying it. I could not imagine enjoying it, the idea of a man sticking their cock into me made me shiver but at the same time, watching big cocks being sucked on was turning me on, even If it was another man doing the sucking. The theme of being turned gay kept coming up, and I searched it out. All types of straight men ending up in gay acts, often to please a woman who encouraged them in some way. I found myself thinking about it frequently, even when I wasn’t aroused, shaking my head. I didn’t like men at all, but I quite enjoyed watching a sissy beg for a real man to fuck them.
This is where everything started, I think. I eventually did get a job offer, but it was half way across the country. I would be away from home, finally, but there would be no one who knew me, no support. Some friends had moved away and drifted apart, and now it was my time. That night lying in bed, I mulled it over. While I had no real connections, starting over provided me opportunities. No one would know me, or anything about me. The job was in a larger city, and the thought occurred to me that it would be easy to indulge in my fantasies if I ever wanted to. If only I actually liked men, I lamented to myself. The thought, however did not disappear, it only intensified. The thought that anyone would see me as gay was obviously erotic, how it might affect how I was perceived.
Moments later I was hard. If no one knew me, I could be anything. My lack of connections suddenly seemed like a very big positive. I was quite familiar with what kind of gay I would be, and that made me even harder. But the physical parts of it seemed incredibly wrong to me, the idea of being with a man made my whole body shudder as if to say “No”, like it knew the repercussions. My stomach tied itself in knots, thinking of all the gay porn I had consumed, the focus being almost purely on the bottoms. I had very much shied away from the full on gay porn, and for good reason: it really was the humiliation that drove me, a feeling of wrongness. Part of me instantly pushed back, I may have been a bit of a pretty boy, but I didn’t suck cock.
“Yet”
That was the next thought in my thinking. I had barely any attraction to cock, but the act of performing fellatio on another man was arousing, what it meant to me. Feelings of failure and shame mixed with feelings of sexual excitement. I wanted to be humiliated so badly that I would suck another man’s cock to feel it, another failure. I thought of ten different paths it could lead to. I masturbated for over half an hour, imagining gay scenario after scenario. I had so many, I couldn’t believe that I lasted as long as I did, having the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life.
The job wasn’t in the bag, but I went through a phone interview, followed several days later by a video call, seeing where it went. Meanwhile, I was getting off over and over to one idea: For all the forced gay stories I had read, no one did it to themselves. There was no one to force me. Would it not be even more humiliating etiler escort if I did it to myself? On purpose? I laughed to myself, thinking this is what happens when your life is too boring, too mundane, that perhaps you finally go off the deep end when you finally do something out of the normal.
The idea take root way too quickly. I could have the sexual adventure of a life time, I imagined to myself. I could force myself. I mean, there are thousands of gay guys having sex right now, as I thought it, and as you read this. But with how I felt about men, well, it seemed impossible. Then I’d imagine how some cross-dressed sissy would lift his skirt to show off his asshole, how yummy their shame must feel as they display themselves for a man. They were gay sissies, and I just got off on humiliation.
But what if I could make myself? Could I flip my sexual orientation? Were I to do this, I would go all the way. I would indulge in every single fantasy, and make it reality, but to make it reality, I would have to enjoy it. Or learn to enjoy it. I decided to take the job right after I orgasmed to the thought of letting new people I would meet know that I was “gay”. Nothing was written in stone, and I thought I was thinking crazy. No reason to turn a decent job down just because I was having these thoughts, but I began packing almost right away, eagerly excited for so many reasons.
In my head, when I became horny, I began to plan it out. Turning yourself gay wasn’t a thing that was going to happen overnight, or probably ever, I thought, but certainly hot to think about. It would be utterly cruel to some poor gay guy if I just led him on, but I simply couldn’t watch gay porn. It felt too wrong to me. So, instead, I started by watching more forced bi videos. It was much easier to ease myself in by watching a hot woman push a guy into sucking cock. While it was easy to watch and get off to, it was much more difficult to imagine myself in that role for more than a few moments. The teasing didn’t make sense, I didn’t want men. I want to be humiliated. By being a guy who sucks cock. I would focus on the dicks, trying to imagine what one would taste like. I know how my own felt in my hand, but I was certainly not flexible enough to attempt that specific feat of agility. The thought occurred to me that I didn’t want to suck at sucking. Thoughts filled my mind of all the times I had seen or heard or read about sissies getting praised for their cocksucking. That could be me. I orgasmed, then placed an order with next day delivery for my first dildo.
Normal looking packaging, just like having any other package delivered. Once I had it, I held it reverently in my hand… OK, no, no I didn’t. It was a bitch to get out of the packaging, and it was a slightly malleable piece of plastic. A steep slope for a mushroom head and just slightly larger than I was, and easily as thick. It didn’t feel odd at all. I quickly queued up an instructional video, and tried to follow them. I found out very quickly it was not that easy to open my mouth that wide, and my teeth would brush against it. It was just plastic though, and tasted as you might imagine plastic would. I didn’t care though, and tried to suck according to the instructions. I was turned on, but what really drove me over the edge was the fact that I was actually doing this. Anyone who saw me in that moment would only have single assumption pop up in their head. That assumption would be wrong… at least at the time, and I sucked away while using my free hand to help blow a messy load.
It was a well I could keep going back to, and getting more from. Anything I saw online, I could do as well. Buying a dildo? No big deal. I bought jockstraps, and ultra-sexy male underwear that showed off my dick clearly and cover only the upper half of my butt. I would look at myself in the mirror, quickly becoming aroused. My body was slim, but clearly masculine, and I began shaving anywhere I had body hair. Feeling completely smooth was new to me, but I did enjoy how my cock looked with all my pubic hair removed (very slowly, and very carefully I might add). It made it much easier to slip into the lingerie I had ordered as well. After all, this was just experimenting. Wearing stockings and a bra – after I had figured out how to get it on – didn’t make me feel sexy, it made me feel silly. And wrong. So, naturally I grabbed my dildo and started sucking. It felt incredibly silly, like I wanted to hide despite being home alone, but that didn’t stop me from jerking off.
If I was going to do this, really do it, I kept bumping up into the same problem: I needed to be turned on by men. Mentally, I balked. It seemed impossible, but the easiest place to start was with vanilla gay porn. Especially ones where the bottom looked similar to myself, it was easier to imagine myself being on the receiving end, which was embarrassing enough. But I tried to focus on the tops, and that was nearly impossible at beyoğlu escort first. They came in all shapes, sizes and colors, every age range, men I would never even bat an eye lash at in real life. The thought of one of them touching me sent a shiver up my spine and semen out of my dick. Maybe it would feel good. I had a powerful orgasm the first time I saw two sissies playing with each other passionately, having never considered the thought before. They had been dressed in extremely feminine attire that somehow fit them in a way that could only be described as sexy. It made me realize that there was so much to explore, so many ways to humiliate myself and I wanted to experience as many of them as I could. The thought in my head was clear, the gayer, the stronger my orgasm. How strong would it be if I actually did something, with another guy?
The week before I set off to move across the country, I started looking at the local Craigslist for where I was moving. Gays get to have lots of casual, anonymous sex I thought, and I knew where to go looking. And to say that I was shocked by what I found would be an understatement. The internet had given me lots of fantasies, there were for more in the m4m section of casual encounters. Gay guys looking to jerk off together, car blowjobs, every age range, every color. I did notice there were far more bottoms than tops, and many of them were far more perverted than I was. Daddys and twinks and sissies, and I must say some of those sissies were adorable. The difference was that all of these weren’t fantasies, they were something else: options. Real options.
Accompanied by real men. Real in the sense that they existed, and I could meet them and real in the sense that they were not like me, or what I wanted to make myself become. This said, I did begin to imagine what it’d be like to be with a gay sissy boy, someone like I imagined myself to be. It was gay as hell to let a man fuck you, but it also seemed very gay to fool around with a sissy faggot. It was easier to look at the men in porn now, but I would need more than that, so I began looking at men’s profiles on dating sites. That’s where the pictures were, right? And while I could admit some of them were attractive, I couldn’t feel a thing, not like when I looked at a girl’s picture. This was good enough for now, and I forced myself to look at their pictures, read their profiles and tried to judge if I’d be willing to suck them off. The answer across the board was “no”. Rationally, I realized I would have to eventually pick someone, and honestly, it could’ve been anyone. Flipping through the profiles, I ended up masturbating to the thought that I had no idea how to attract a man, and I was definitely going to need to learn how to.
Despite my excitement at starting a new life, figuratively and literally, time unfurled slowly. I got a secret thrill out of dressing in rather overly tight jeans that showed off my ass, but I was basically an office worker, in boring office worker attire. I didn’t know any of my coworkers, and barely made any small talk with anyone at work. Instead, when the day was over I’d drive home, horny as hell and fondle my dildo while looking at naked men and their bodies. Often, I felt a strong pull to go look at anything else, the sensation that somehow this was wrong, but I chose to ignore it, I had a goal! It would end up as hours of edging, my cock becoming thicker and harder as time went on, and oh so sensitive. The need to cum and denying myself kept my mind in the right state, and thoughts would come to me like, “I don’t want anything in my ass, but it’s got to happen.” Looking back, it’s funny how naïve I was, how even in my mind, I avoided using certain words. I can assure you that is no longer the case.
I made sure to keep hitting up a gym, focusing on cardio and working my thighs and ass. I did like the working out, it felt good, but I also wanted to have a certain look, like many of the bottom boys I watched online. The thought of being like them, slobbering over a cock like only a gay guy could kept me incredibly motivated. I was even able to cum with a guy’s face on screen at that point!
I felt like I was making quite decent progress as time passed. But, my vague timetable escalated a few weeks later. I had made a couple of work-friends, and one, a slightly older woman and I were having a conversation, where she asked me to, jokingly, to explain men’s fascination with breasts. I leaned in closer to her, and said “Don’t ask me, I’m gay.” There wasn’t much thought ahead of it, I was aware it was a chance, not like I would just wander up to people and proclaim a gayness I barely even felt… yet. I tried to not be aroused, but she didn’t miss a beat, smiling at me, her eyes slightly wide, “Really? I thought maybe…” My gut sunk, and I had a tremendous urge to touch myself, but held back. I ended up smiling, bashful almost. And that was it for the time being. The thing about making real life fantasy is that real life takes over, and a minute later it was back to work. My mind however was not focused on work, it was focused on that “maybe”. It was focused on how she might think of me now, because I didn’t know. One thing was certain, she definitely wouldn’t ever expect me to be interested in her.
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