Corruption

Corruption -- Samantha's Story By Erica Wright and Marcia St. Denis Started 05/02/02

Chapter 1

Sam remembered part of the night like it was yesterday. He was fourteen and home alone when the police knocked on the door.

"Is your father home?"

That's all they kept asking him as he looked at them through the cracked door. He kept the two chain locks engaged as his mother and father had instructed him and despite seeing the policemen's badges he didn't want to let them in. He just knew something was wrong, police don't knock on your door in the middle of the night unless something terrible has happened.

"Son, we need to talk to you. Can you please let us in?"

"My mom and dad said never to let anyone in..."

"Well, OK. Then you're doing the right thing by not letting us in son. Listen, call the police precinct. Give them your address and then ask them if there are two officers outside your door... While you're by the phone, is there a relative you can call? Someone who can come over now?"

Sam closed the door and locked the deadbolt. He leaned out the window trying to see the street six floors below. If he could just see a police car, or maybe the reflections of flashing lights he'd feel better. But because of the angle he couldn't see what he hoped he could. After calling the precinct and being told that it was very important that he let the officers in, he did. The hours from the time his fingers touched the door-knob until his uncle Steve showed up at the hospital the next morning were a complete blur.

Weeks later he pieced the lost hours together by talking to his uncle. After the police had told him the horrible news that his mother had been killed in the family's convenience store he must've passed out and been brought to the hospital. He had vague memories, of a stretcher, an ambulance ride and an embarrassing moment of someone undressing him.

Other than that, he recalled nothing before waking up in the hospital.

He remembered his Uncle Steve slumped in the chair across from him, asleep.

He remembered slipping past him to use the bathroom.

He remembered walking out of the bathroom and being wrapped in a tight bear hug.

"They found your dad too... He's gone. He's gone too... Who could've done this... your parents, my sister... the fucking bastards..."

Even in his slightly sedated state he remembered the oddity of the sentence, "Your parents, my sister... the fucking bastards."

His mother had been found behind the counter of the family store, one shot in the back. His father had been found a few blocks away in a dark alley. He had been shot five or six times in the face. The funeral had been horrible. His mother's casket was open, his fathers closed.

Sam just kept wondering when he would wake up so that life could return to normal.

Sam stayed with Uncle Steve in his shabby apartment for a few days and then they both moved back into Sam's parent's apartment. He never saw the police after that first night. He kept wondering when the big investigation would start, never knowing that there wouldn't really be one. His parents owned and operated a 24-hour convenience store in a bad section of the city. As far as the police were concerned it was almost their fault for being there. Within two or three weeks everything seemed to be back to normal except his parents were dead. He'd get up, go to school, come home, do his homework, make something to eat, watch some TV and then go to bed. It was a cycle that repeated itself over and over again. Uncle Steve was working the same hours that his parents used to and Sam would only see him in passing.

One night he woke up to hear Steve arguing with someone on the phone. He crept to the bedroom door trying to listen.

"... I told you before that they had no fucking money. If they did, they wouldn't have been working there. Yeah well, I gave you all I got, its not like they had some big fucking insurance police. I barely covered the funerals and now I'm stuck with a kid, a store that barely makes twenty-five bucks a day and I still owe you more money than I'll ever make in my fucking lifetime. Somehow you've gotten blood from this stone but there ain't no more. I'll give you everything I make... forever, but you gotta stop compounding what I owe."

There was silence and Sam started to back away to go back to bed. But his uncle started talking again.

"No fucking way, I'm not doin' that... I barely sleep now... Well all right then, maybe you'll have to do it to make your point in the neighborhood, but then you'll never get your money, are you gonna write that much off just to make a fucking point? I'm trying... Give me some time. I've always thought of something before... Hey? Hello? Hello?" Steve slammed the phone down. "Fuck!"

Sam backed away, trying to make it back to his bed without making a noise. One step from his bed the floor groaned loudly. He jumped into bed as he heard the kitchen chair slide across the floor and then agitated footsteps to his door. He sprawled out and tried to relax just as his door opened.

"Sam... You OK Sam?" Uncle Steve whispered as he walked across the room.

Sam's own voice screamed in his head... Breathe easy... breathe easy... nice and calm.' Sam knew he had heard something he wasn't supposed to. He felt his uncle leaning over him, felt his eyes searching for any sign of awareness. Pretend to wake up... or keep faking?' Sam was torn as the seconds stretched into what seemed like hours.

Finally, "Fuckin' imagining things..." Steve mumbled as he turned to leave the room.

Sam saw the shadow cross behind closed lids and waited for the door to shut. It did and he took a deep breath.

He didn't sleep the entire night. When he finally gave up trying it was about 5:00 AM. Sam could hear his uncle shuffling through his morning routine. A few minutes later he heard the apartment door slam shut, and he crawled out of bed. He went to the bathroom and then made his way to the kitchen. There was a note on the table:

Sam, I know this will be hard, but do you think you could go through your mother and father's things? I tried last night and I just can't. I keep thinking about not having my little sister ever again... I can't keep living out of boxes and bags and I think we both need to start moving on... You can take the day off from school if you want. Steve

Sam slowly walked to his parent's bedroom. There were the black plastic bags with Steve's clothes hanging out of them strewn around. His mother would've flipped. She always said, "We might only be a step from trash ourselves, but that doesn't mean we have to live like we're that close..."

The room looked like a trash heap. He sat down onto the bed and stared at his parents' dresser. He didn't think he'd have a problem going through his dad's things since there wasn't a lot there and he knew all about what boy's wear. But his mom's things were another story. Since he'd been a little boy he'd always been fascinated by the difference in girls and boys clothes and he had always liked looking at his mom's stuff and touching them when he thought he could sneak a feel. He remembered asking his mother why her clothes were so soft and slippery and fancy and his and his dad's were so plain and boring.

Her answer had been simple, "Because I'm a girl and you're not. That's one of the special things about being a girl, we get prettier clothes!"

And even though they weren't rich, his mom always seemed to have really nice dresses and shoes around and her underwear was really flimsy and pretty and looked just like what girls wore in the magazines his mom liked to read. His dad had told him that he liked seeing his mom all dressed up pretty and feminine.

"It made him proud to be seen with her," he had said.

Sam pulled open the top drawer and the sweet flowery scent hit him like a punch in the stomach. It didn't matter what kind of day she was having, there was always a hint of this scent on his mother. He took a deep breath and sat back on the bed crying before his backside hit the comforter.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been there, but his stomach was growling when he finally woke up. After eating three bowls of almost dry cereal (there had only been about an ounce of sour milk in the carton!) Sam returned to his parent's bedroom.

He looked in the drawer.

Bras, matching panties, slips, stockings and other things he didn't know the name of stared back at him. He reached in and pulled out two huge handfuls.

"Well now what...?" he said to no one.

He found an empty bag and began to stuff the lingerie in until his hand lingered on a soft smooth item. His fingers closed around it and he pulled it back out from the bag. It was black and shiny and had a really delicate, see-through lace ruffle at the edge. It stretched when he pulled at it.

Years later he would think back on the next fifteen seconds and wonder what caused him to do what he did next.

Almost in a trance he stepped out of his plain checked boxers and shimmied into the black panties. Almost immediately his cock got hard as a rock, straining against the smooth tight satin spandex. He looked down past the lace ruffle and rubbed the sausage shape under the panties. Little electric jolts seemed to swarm over his body.

"MMMmmmm..." he said as he kept rubbing his cock. He looked in the mirror. He thought he looked silly but in spite of that, he knew he really liked the feelings that were coming from down there.

"Maybe if I put on something else I won't look so funny..."

He looked in the drawer, and found a matching black bra. After fumbling with it for a few minutes he had it on straight. Now he didn't look quite as stupid, in fact he kind of liked the way he looked!

"I need boobs... this doesn't look right!"

He found some soft stockings and stuffed them in the cups, shaping them as he squeezed them. He reached forward and shifted the mirror down so his head wasn't in the frame. Now he really liked what he saw, it was like having his own girl to rub and stroke! He imagined he was looking at Lizzy Sampson, who had been held back in school which made her older than all the other kids. In addition, Lizzy had developed physically much earlier than any of the other girls. His friends would always talk about her titties and what it would be like to squeeze them. Sam liked to think about touching them too but he also kept thinking about whether she wore pretty panties and bras like the ones he had on and tried to imagine what she looked like in them.

In his mind he became her. He was rubbing and squeezing Lizzy's big titties and she was liking it. Truth was, he was liking it too! It was strange but he was living out two different characters. He was both Lizzy, enjoying the rubbing and squeezing and fondling, and he was himself doing the rubbing, squeezing and fondling. He imagined Lizzy whispering something really dirty, something he had been told he wasn't ever to do until he was MUCH older.

"Rub me there, down between my legs... rub my vagina..."

Sam watched in the mirror as his own hand slid down his smooth stomach passing over his throbbing penis and settled over his tightly wrapped balls while his other hand reached under his bra and began to pinch his hard swollen nipple. He cupped his balls and began rubbing them, doing what he and his friends had always imagined some girl would let them do some day. He was squeezing Lizzy's big tits and feeling her vagina too! As he rubbed and squeezed he felt this incredible buzzy feeling all over and he kept rubbing faster and faster, squeezing Lizzy's tits and soft vagina. Every time he slowed down the buzz would go away so he went faster and faster until he closed his eyes and then he thought he was dying. Every inch of his body seemed to be on fire and tingling as he started to shake. His breath came in short gasps and his blood felt like it was boiling. He had no idea what was happening but continued rubbing faster and faster because it felt so good!

"Ughhhhh! Oooommmmmph!!!!"

He heard himself groan. His hand was a blur as he gazed at himself through barely opened eyes. And then his balls were contracting under the tight smooth material. He felt this incredible feeling rush come over him and then move up his penis. A second later it was twitching in the tight confines of the panties. He felt hot wet stuff pumping out everywhere. All he could think was that he was peeing himself, but he didn't care. For the first time in weeks he felt alive!

More alive then he'd ever felt before.

After a minute or two he sat back on the bed panting. He rubbed his cock through the satin front panel of his mom's panties and could feel it slipping around in something wet and thick. He pulled the waistband of the panties out and looked down. His cock was still hard but there was all this stringy white and clear goo everywhere. It was like someone had dumped a bottle of rubber cement in his panties but the scent was kind of fresh and nutty like it was fresh from the ocean. And he found himself breathing the aroma in deeply. He was more shocked when he found himself reaching in and running a finger through it and bringing it up to his mouth, smelling and tasting cum for the first time in his young life. What shocked him the most was that he liked the taste and the texture and he LOVED the smell... All funky and rich and nutty and salty like the ocean.

He pulled the panties up tight and began rubbing himself again. The panties were soaked completely through by this time and the lubrication of his own cum was driving him to another quick orgasm. Before he knew it another load of hot sticky goo spurted out of his cock. This time there was no holding him back as he immediately reached into the panties and scooped out loads of wet stringy cum. He felt guilty and excited and embarrassed all at once as he feasted on his special treat. When the inside of the panties were almost empty and only had a bit of residual stickiness to them he slowly peeled them off, tossing them on the floor in a ball.

"What now?" he thought.

He looked at the half full bag of lingerie as well as what remained in the drawer.

"There's no way I can just throw this stuff out... I need to go through it... slowly... carefully."

He searched out another pair of panties. He pulled on a pink pair that seemed to have no back to them, just a thin strip of satin material. The front panel consisted of sheer see through lace with an off-white floral pattern on them. He loved the look of his little cock peeking back at him through the lace panel. Then he remembered that a bra and panties SHOULD match. He struggled with the bra he'd put on earlier and quickly got the black one off and put a pink one on in its place. He filled the black plastic bag with the contents of the top drawer and dragged it back to his room.

As the afternoon changed into evening a cross-dresser was born.

Sam quickly settled into a routine. Anything plain and utilitarian, like cotton bras and panties, went into one black plastic bag, anything shiny, slippery, stretchy or lacy and feminine went into another. In the course of going through everything he came across a pantyhose keeper. It had a bunch of little pockets with all different colored pantyhose stuffed in them. He decided to keep all of them but not before pulling his panties off and slipping on a particularly smooth stretchy pair. He loved the way they squeezed and caressed him as he moved around in his room. He pulled the panties back on over the top of the hose and continued going through his mom's things.

Finally it came time to try on everything he wanted to keep. Being as young as he was, most of her things were either slightly too big or fit pretty well. Everything that was a little too big, he kept. Those few things that were too small, he threw out. Even then he was thinking of the future. He knew he would be growing, not shrinking. He also knew this was his only source of this special pleasure. It wasn't like he could ever walk into a store and buy a bra. The police would probably come and take him away! After a few hours, he had gone through the contents of the dresser and half of the closet. It was late but he knew he still had hours until his uncle came home. He sped up. It was easier going through the clothes than the lingerie. By necessity his mother had a fairly plain wardrobe and most of it went in the bag to get rid of but the sexier outfits and dresses and skirts and tops stayed. Almost twelve hours later Sam looked at what he'd done.

Eight big bags of clothes to go, two bags to stay.

What would he do with the `keepers'? It wasn't like he could hang the stuff in his closet, or put it in his own drawers. He remembered that his dresser had a false bottom and he stuffed some under there. The rest went under his bed for the short-term. He knew he would need to find a good place for the rest but for now it just needed to be out of his uncle's sight!

He was starving and walked to the kitchen in the pantyhose, pink bra and panties he'd worn all day. It amazed him how naturally he'd taken to the soft sexy underwear. He remembered torturing and teasing a classmate who had been forced to wear panties to school by the kid's older brother. Was Sam what they had called his schoolmate? Was he a sissy? A fag?

No freaking way!' Sam mumbled, I was thinking about sexy Lizzy Sampson, I wasn't thinking about another guy!'

But it wasn't quite so easy to put those thoughts away once he had opened the subject and they kept going around and around inside him as he sat and ate a peanut and butter sandwich. He was getting a little upset that they were nagging at him so much.

"If you're not a sissy-boy, why are you still wearing the pink bra and panties? And pantyhose too!" his mind asked.

"Because they feel good!" he answered out loud.

As he swallowed the last bite of his sandwich he heard footsteps outside the door and then keys. He looked at the clock,

`Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!'

His uncle was home! He looked down the hallway. He would need to cross in FRONT of the doorway to the apartment to get to his room. He leapt up and ran, his feet slipping because of the pantyhose. He heard his uncle drop his keys. He was suddenly thankful that his uncle sometimes drank at the end of the night and raced the last five feet. He turned off the light to his room and jumped right into bed, pulling the covers up to his neck just as the door to the apartment opened.

"Sam, you home?" Steve called out, "I got a call from the school so I know you took me up on my offer..."

Strangely, and the sound of his uncle's voice Sam felt his cock throbbing to life. It was getting uncomfortable underneath the tight pantyhose and panties. Sam tried to arrange the blanket as naturally as possible before answering. But he was conscious of his aroused state.

"I'm in bed Uncle Steve..."

The door to his room opened and Sam prayed that Steve wouldn't turn the light on or come in. He didn't, choosing to stand in the doorway.

"In bed already? That's a surprise..."

"I did what you asked me to do and felt really depressed afterwards, so I went to bed... You don't mind do you?" Sam wondered if the quivering he felt was creeping into his voice.

"Yeah... I know, this whole thing sucks... especially for you. Just stay in bed and try to get a good night's sleep, you'll feel better in the morning..."

The door was closing when Sam blurted out, "Do you want me to take the clothes to donate or will you?"

Steve walked halfway back in. Sam's heart pounded in his chest. He could feel a huge wet spot spreading where the tip of his cock strained against the panties.

"Would you mind? Take a taxi if you need to, see if you can get a receipt too. Are you OK Sam? You seem awfully bundled up?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm ok... I'm just really upset... you know..."

Sam's cock was painful it was so hard! His uncle was less than three feet away.

"Well just try to get some sleep... Despite what all the doctors say, sleep is really the best thing... I just wish I could..." Steve turned and walked out without another word, closing the door behind him.

Relieved, Sam relaxed and before he could think about it he realized that another orgasm had snuck up on him! He gasped through clenched teeth as his cock spasmed and pumped. In a moment his cock was once again swimming in gobs of sticky cum held tight against his stomach by the pantyhose. He was floating as the orgasm swept over him. He heard his uncle walking around in the apartment right outside the closed door and that only excited him more as he reached under the blankets and scooped out another thick load of his cum and brought it up to his hungry lips. He swished it around in his mouth before swallowing it. Why had the thought of being caught made him so excited? Did he WANT to be caught? He scraped the last strings of cooling cum out of his panties and rolled onto his stomach, drifting off into a strangely satisfied sleep.

Chapter 2

Sam woke the next morning, face down in his bed. He felt the bra straps cut into and across his shoulders and the crispy tightness of his cum-soaked pantyhose and panties. As he stretched he realized that sometime during the night he had kicked off the blankets. His uncle smoked a lot of weed and always opened the windows while he did. Often Uncle Steve would fall asleep with the windows still open and then the heat would go on, and cook the whole apartment! Sam had no doubt that if his uncle had looked in on him before he went to work he would've noticed that his nephew was wearing pantyhose and a matching bra and panty set!

`I have to be more careful!' He scolded himself.

He peeled of the lingerie and tossed it in a pile before pulling on his bathrobe and going to the bathroom. As he peed he looked around sleepily. There was something black in the wastepaper basket. Sam reached down and gasped as he pulled out the black panties he had cum in the day before. They were crispy and dried into a ball shape. He remembered taking them off and leaving them in his uncle's room! There was no doubt he had fucked up now! How was he going to explain them?

His mind raced.

"Just ignore them, pretend they're not there. I bet he's as embarrassed as you! Act like nothing happened and nothing will!"

But he made sure he added the black panties to the pink set and pantyhose in his room since he didn't want to lose them.

Sam got dressed nervously, ate something and before rushing off to school combed the apartment for any signs of the previous day's adventures.

In school, he couldn't concentrate on a thing. His thoughts were a jumble of recollections of how it felt to be in his mother's lingerie and fantasies of what he might do when he got home.

He kept having the same day-dream, he was wearing tiny pink satin panties with white flowers and a matching bra with a little satin robe. In the dream, he had real titties, not huge but not so little that they weren't heavy enough to give weight to his chest and fill out the front of his chest. They filled the satin cups perfectly and his nipples were both large and hard as pebbles. He was draped over his uncle's knees and he was getting a severe spanking for being such a naughty, naughty girl!

"Samantha, you've got to learn discipline! You'll never amount to anything if you don't learn to be a good girl!"

In the dream Sam was crying but his cock was soooo hard and soooo close to cumming as slap after slap rained down on his upturned butt and he kept grinding his panty covered cock against the hard muscle of his uncle's thigh. He was begging his uncle to stop because he knew he was going to make a big mess in his pretty panties! But his uncle wouldn't listen and finally on one of the down strokes, as the hot sting spread across his butt, Sam came, shuddering and shaking as he filled his flowered panties with cum. Every time the dream would end there! It was so frustrating! Why was Sam having such a dirty, dirty dream?

Finally, as the day wore on, Sam actually found himself trying to imagine the end of the dream. What would happen next? Would his uncle be even angrier? What would his uncle think of him? Could he make his uncle happy if he showed him how he always cleaned up his own mess? Or would that just show Uncle Steve what a dirty GIRL he had become? If he had been distracted earlier in the day, now he was almost in a stupor. Wouldn't this day ever end?

Finally the day was over. Sam completely ignored his friends and ran home.

He closed the door behind him and using the two chain locks, locked it. Now, even if his uncle came home, he would need to wait until Sam unlocked the door before he could come in. Sam all but ran to his bedroom, tearing off his clothes as he went. He pulled the black plastic bag out from under his bed and rifled through it. He knew they were in here somewhere.

"Ahhh..." he sighed as he pulled out the pink satin panties and matching bra. He slipped the panties up his legs tucking his hardening cock down between his legs. He pulled them up tight until his now throbbing cock was actually hurting his balls. He ran his hand over the satin covered bulge and imagined a vagina between his legs. Next came the bra, he looped it around his stomach fastening it expertly.

"Maybe I was a girl in a previous life?" he thought to himself giggling as he stuffed the cups of his bra.

He shaped `his' breasts until they filled the satin cups fairly accurately. (Not that he'd ever seen a real set of titties!) Next he pulled out the bottom drawer completely and reached in until his hand closed on the satin robe. He yanked it out and slipped it around his shoulders. He tied a tiny bow around his waist and sauntered around really enjoying his newfound girlyness.

How had this become so `normal' to him so quickly? He decided he didn't care. He loved being someone else, someTHING else! For the first time in weeks he was happy, carefree. He wasn't Sam whose parents had just been killed, he was Samantha, a carefree, sexy pre-teen.

Was this was how people develop second personalities?

He moved his hips from side to side, loving the feel of the satin robe swishing along his sides.

"If I only had long hair... and maybe some heels."

He said looking into the mirror. Remembering that he hadn't gone through the shoe portion of her closet and that his mother had dressed up like a stripper the previous year, he yelped, "I do!"

He raced to the hall closet, pulling down the Halloween box. He felt a twinge of shame and guilt as he pulled the long curly blonde wig styled in Big Hair "do" from the box. But he still slipped it on and tried to adjust it from side to side and front to back. He walked to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He loved what he saw. He looked so soft and feminine like one of the girls in Uncle Steve's Penthouse magazines.

He went down the hall to his parent's room and looked down at the rows of shoes his mother had left behind. He threw all of the flats and sneakers and functional shoes into bags to add to the eight he had collected from yesterday and took the 12 pair of high-heeled pumps and sandals and sling-backs and boots to his bedroom and slipped them under his bed. But not before keeping out a pair of strappy, white patent leather sandals that he thought would match the white floral lace on his panties and bra. They had at least a 4" thin stiletto heel and the straps went across his toes and wrapped around his ankles 6 times before he could tie them off behind his leg in a bow.

He could almost imagine his uncle finding him,

"Samantha! Why are you dressed like such a little hussy!?"

He wouldn't understand... Uncle Steve would yell at him.

"Do you want all the boys to chase you around with their dicks hanging out of their pants... Don't just stand there, answer me, do you...?"

He pouted and whispered to his reflection in the mirror,

"Yes uncle, I think I do... I think I do want to see all those nasty little boys with hard penises in their pants panting to get at me... Big bulges just for me. And I think I want to learn how to make them happy just the way girls do. I want to BE a girl in every way and I want to learn how to make their hard things squirt just like mine!"

Samantha slipped her hand down between her legs and hauled out her hardening prick. It had been tightly squeezed in the tight panties but now that it was free, it was throbbing to full erection. Samantha looked down and at the mirror at the same time.

"Is there such thing as both? Could I really want both things?"

She started stroking the thing between her legs while swaying side to side and taking little mincing steps in her heels. It was incredibly erotic. She knew that under all the soft material and the erotically high heels she was still just a scrawny little boy, not even a fully developed teenager but he had begun to think of herself as a "her", not a "him" and to call herself Samantha, not Sam!

Here she was dressed like a hot, feminine girl and as she gazed at herself she looked and felt so sexy! Her pert little tits, her narrow waist, her tight, tiny buttcheeks that stuck out with the added arch induced by her 4" heels and which were split into two perfectly smooth white orbs by the pink satin band of her thong.

"Mmmmmm, why do I feel soooooo good? I bet I could give Lizzy Sampson a run!"

The long smooth legs perched atop her vampy heels, the ridiculously long, full blonde wig, the flowing and gossamer thin, see-through pink robe. She felt like a pre-teen beauty queen.

She laughed, "If I'm crowned Miss pre-teen South Bronx I promise to suck the hard, throbbing penis of every boy under the age of fifteen as my thank you..." Suddenly the picture of herself licking and sucking a hard cock was all she could imagine.

"Are these clothes haunted or what? One second I'm a regular guy and now all I want is to taste a big hard bone..."

She shook her head, clearing that image.

"That'll be for ANOTHER day..."

Her focus shifted, "Let me get this dirty little dream out of my head... now."

Speaking in the firmest adult voice she could muster she spoke to herself in the mirror... "Young lady YOU need a spanking... go right into the living room!"

She sauntered into the living room and before lying over the recliner tucked her hard cock back inside her panties. She imagined what it would feel like, so vulnerable, lying across Uncle Steve's lap. Would he notice the hard thing barely held in check by the soft panties? Would he rub his hand along her curved backside? Samantha couldn't remember if Uncle Steve had a girlfriend. What if he slid his hand down? Samantha ran her fingers between her own cheeks cupping and then gently squeezing her satin covered balls.

"Please don't hurt me Uncle Steve... please!" She awkwardly brought her own hand up and slapped her own ass.

"Ughhh..." The sting was electric.

She had been spanked once in her life and it hadn't felt ANYTHING like this! She brought her hand down again and again. Slapping each of her cheeks over and over again. She arched her back and started spanking lower and lower until she was making contact with her balls through the satin. Her backside was hot and tingly and her balls were tender, and she could feel her panties soaked where her cock was oozing.

"Please stop, Uncle Steve... I'm going to make a sticky mess in my panties! I promise I'll be a good girl... puh-lease?"

"Don't worry missy, I'll give you a chance to be a good girl, but first you need to be punished..."

Four more slaps and Samantha felt as if her whole body was tingling. She was rubbing herself against the chair obscenely. She arched her back and brought her hand down as hard as she could, the harshness of the last spank cut through the buzz of all the others.

"Uhhhhhhhh noooo, Uncle Steve... it's coming!"

Samantha's whole body shook as the load that had been building all day shot out. She shook for almost thirty seconds, spurt after spurt of hot steamy cum shooting into her tight satin panties. With both hands she caressed her stinging cheeks and more and more cum came out. Finally, gasping for breath, she stopped moving and lay there. She could feel her cock swimming in sticky goo. It was still partially hard and throbbing despite just cumming. She rolled off the chair onto her knees and looked down. Her panties were soaked and there were thick drops of cum actually oozing through the wet satin. Frightened she looked at the leather recliner; it was smeared with streaks of cum.

"Uh-oh..."

She leaned forward and traced her tongue over the bitter lines and puddles, slurping each down hungrily. The smell of the worn leather and sperm was strangely erotic. She lingered, licking the chair much longer than needed. Finally finished, she looked at her handy-work. The seat was wet with saliva. Belatedly, she realized the chair might be ruined!

"Maybe I'll really get punished..." She smirked to herself as she reached into her soaked panties and scooped out more of her own cum. She closed her eyes and imagined being able to suck the yummy stuff first hand, directly out of a throbbing penis.

In a few minutes she was completely aroused. Her hard cock strained against her panties which were cool and sticky. She slipped out of them and brought them to her mouth, sucking at the musky moisture they still retained.

Realizing she was deep into a whole new world, Samantha wondered, "What do they call a girl who can't get enough sex?"

She racked her brain trying to remember the word her friend's older brother had used to describe his girlfriend Kimberly, Kimbo the Nympho' was what the brother had called her, Nympho is short for nymphomaniac. If a girl can't get enough sex, you call her a Nymphomaniac..."

Samantha smiled, "Samantha the Nympho..." she liked the way that sounded.

Chapter 3

Over the next few weeks Sam became Samantha in every conceivable way during every waking moment away from school and while his uncle was out of the house.

On the surface he was still the fourteen-year old boy everyone knew. But underneath he knew he was changing. He started wearing panties to school under his clothes and would opt out of gym to avoid being caught. He hated using the murder of his parents as an excuse, but the gym teacher never actually asked. Sam would just imply some vague problem, saying something like I'm not in the mood to have fun' or I don't feel so good' and the teacher would put on the sad concerned adult face Sam had seen so many times and wave him off to the sides.

Sam started hanging out with the girls in the hallways and at lunch and before he knew it he was in their group full-time. He found himself giggling and laughing with them. His friends were puzzled by his strange behavior and quickly pulled away from him. He heard the whispers behind his back but just didn't care because he was having fun. He found himself so much more interested in what the girls were saying and talking about. Every so often something truly girly would come up, like when they were going to get their periods or making out with guys and everyone would laugh and say things like, `Sam, you're one of us... we have no secrets...'

Everyday after school, Sam would lock himself behind the closed door of his apartment and turn into Samantha. He acted out other erotic dreams but the most powerful and satisfying was always the spanking one. He would act that one out three or four times a week, now purposefully shooting his cum all over the leather seat before licking it up subserviently. Since his uncle was working crazy hours, Sam would always do the laundry, which was perfect since he was soiling so many pairs of panties! Before washing any lingerie or any of his girly clothes Sam would make sure the laundry room was completely empty. The two hours spent in the laundry room were nerve-racking but the pure satisfaction of pulling on a nice warm pair of satin panties far out-weighed the risk!

One afternoon at school, the girls had been trying on lip-gloss and it was all he could do not to pucker his lips and ask to try it also! That afternoon he ran home and cleaned out the medicine cabinet and squirreled away all of his mother's make-up. After a few days of practice he thought he was doing a reasonable job. And it didn't hurt that he had no hair of any sort on his face or legs or body other than the tiniest, wispiest amount above his cock. The make-up really helped his transformation from scrawny boy to sexy young girl but it complicated things also. He really needed to watch the clock. Now, not only would he need to clean the apartment of any sign of his `playtime', but he would need to carefully wash his face too!

The weeks sped by and his uncle seemed to be making more money with the store than his parents were ever able to. He even spoke about maybe hiring an afternoon manager one day! Sam was happy for him but also worried about the time he had alone. What would happen if Uncle Steve started coming home by 6:00 or 7:00 at night? Sam's time as Samantha would be seriously compromised.

As with most things in his life since his parents had been killed, Sam decided that he would worry about his uncle's new work hours if and when they ever started. For the time being he had plenty of time to continue developing his secret and perfecting Samantha.

Sam rushed home after school every day and tore off his clothes quickly, slipping into her favorite outfit, the pink panties, bra and satin robe. On this one day, she sauntered into the bathroom, satin robe opened, make-up bag in her hand. She placed the bag on the edge of the sink, opened it and began applying her make-up. She was interested in trying out something one of the other girls had talked about. All she remembered was,

`...guys like the slutty look... tons of eye make-up, blush and dark pouty lips that have a really dark lip liner and long, dark fingernails will drive any guy nuts... right Sam?'

Sam had been day-dreaming again, and quickly recovered,

"Um... uhhh yeah... definitely!"

Before she knew it, a little slut was looking back at her from the mirror.

"Ummmm, this is SEXY... I like this a lot..." Samantha winked at herself and ran her tongue over her glazed lips.

"I bet I could get any guy... I'm way sexier than any of the girls in school, that's for sure!" She looked down at the huge bulge in the front of her panties. There was already a dark wet spot from her leaking cock.

"This ruins everything!" she rubbed the bulge and smiled, "But it feels sooo good! I think I need a spanking..."

Samantha walked into the living room and sprawled across the chair to do her nails which had grown and now extended out past the end of her fingers. She was quivering from the anticipation of what her hand with its sexily painted nails would be doing to her butt in just a few minutes after her nails had dried.

When she had tested them against her thigh and knew they were dry, she slowly squirmed into position and then she raised her hand and spanked herself hard. "Oh yeah... Hard... Just the way Samantha loves it..."

"Uhhhh!" she groaned, loving the hot sting spreading across her smooth backside. She played out her favorite fantasy, spanking herself over and over again.

"Please Uncle Steve, I'll be a good girl... Don't hurt me...!"

Another smack and once again the familiar buzz was building in her tingling crotch.

"I'm gonna make a big sticky mess... Please stop Uncle Steve... Noooo more..."

"What the hell is this...?" A voice interrupted her fantasy.

Samantha's head snapped around in shock. Uncle Steve was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. She had forgotten to lock the door! Despite all of her fantasies about getting caught Samantha was mortified. Her head was suddenly completely empty. She knew her mouth was open but nothing was coming out. She spun around trying to regain some composure by sitting in the chair.

"I knew something was going on, but I never thought this was it... So, you're a little sissy?"

Finally something came out, "No, it's not like that Uncle Steve... I'm not gay... I swear..."

Steve took a few more steps closer.

"Well what the fuck is this then?" He waved to the outfit Sam was wearing.

"I don't see too many boys your age willingly wearing what you've got on! You're even wearing make-up and a wig. Where the fuck did you get the wig? No don't answer me. Never mind. Now I have my own little fag? Look at you... I thought I would have my hands full with a teenager, now I have to worry about a gay teenager!"

Out of the corner of her eye Samantha caught her uncle looking down between her legs. She opened them slightly and saw his reaction. He didn't look away, instead she could tell that he was looking closer. He took a huge breath and stepped closer. Now he was openly looking down at her.

She could clearly see the huge bulge in his pants.

"Close your legs you little whore... Your cunt is dripping and making your panties wet..."

A tingle went up her spine. He had said `your cunt.' She took a deep breath and tried her sexiest teen-queen voice.

"Sorry Uncle Steve... I'm really sorry." She looked down embarrassed and excited at the same time.

"Stand up, let me sit there..."

Awkwardly they switched places.

"Do you want something to drink... I could get you a beer?"

"Yeah... I need something to drink. Go get me a beer you little slut."

Samantha scurried into the kitchen returning with a cold beer. When she returned to the living room her uncle was in his underwear! His clothes lay in a pile next to the chair. She tried not to, but she found herself staring at the tent caused by his erect penis. If she wanted to she could reach out and touch a straining hard cock. She fought back the urge, instead handing him the beer. As he took the can from her, her long nails grazed the back of his hand and she saw his eyes flutter shut and his body quiver like he was having a pee-pee shiver.

He took three huge gulps before handing it to her. "Have some too..."

Samantha was shocked but drank some and handed it back. It was fizzy and made her giggle. She stood there and watched him drink until it was almost empty when he handed it back to her.

"Finish this one and get three more..."

She consciously turned around and exaggerated the swaying of her buttocks as she sauntered back to the kitchen drinking down the last of the beer. She was already light-headed and when she opened the beers, she took a quick gulp from each and swished her way back down the hall until she was once again at the entrance to the living room. Keeping the beers down low near her thighs in front of her raging cock, she did a model's walk towards her uncle by placing each foot ahead and in line with her other foot in order to accentuate the feminine sway in her hips. She couldn't help smiling as she saw her uncle's eyes glaze over and little drops of perspiration collect on his forehead as she swayed her way towards him.

It seemed like minutes that she was standing before her uncle without him making a move or a sound.

He grabbed one can, drank it in one quick chug and looked up at her.

"Well I think the only thing I can do is to punish you..." He reached up and slowly rubbed her soft smooth thigh.

"Anything you think is right, Uncle Steve..." She was looking down and quivering.

"Drink that down." He said pointing to one of the beers. She did and the effects were immediate. She started giggling and it felt like she couldn't keep her balance. She needed to sit down.

"Now, lay right here... I think you know how..." Steve pointed to his lap.

Samantha's head was spinning but she had enough sense left to know what she was being asked to do and immediately she started getting goose bumps at the thought that she was about to experience what she had dreamt about for all these months.

Gingerly she reached out and balanced herself with her hand against her uncle's hard, masculine thigh.

"Oh my God... It feels so hard and hot...I wonder what his cock feels like?"

She lowered herself down and lay across her uncle's knees. It was just like her dream, but there was something so different. This time she wasn't just imagining lying over his knees... This time it was real. She was across his knees with her head down and her ass in the air and her erect cock stuck between her stomach and his burning thigh!

And then she felt something that had never been a part of her dream. There was something hot and oh so hard pressed against the side of her waist. Every time she thought about the hard penis pressed against her she started shaking. She was deliberately trying to breathe smoothly and evenly but kept feeling herself starting to hyperventilate. She heard her uncle gulp some more beer and then he pulled her robe up exposing her satin split asscheeks. Another hesitation and then his hand was rubbing her curved backside. Samantha felt his cock twitch and squirmed in response. He sighed.

`Do you like this?" she said barely in a whisper.

"Yesss!" he croaked. "But even if this hurts you, I really need to do this... Remember this will hurt me more than you... You really need to be taught some discipline..."

Was he playing with her, or did he really think she needed a spanking?

She sensed his hand moving and then heard the whack of his open palm.

"Ughhhh!!!!" The sting was worse and better than anything she could've done to herself. His hand was bigger and rougher and he had far more strength.

Another, and another, and another. Whack, whack, whack. The blows were hard and stinging, quickly bringing tears to her eyes, but her cock was twitching with excitement. With each blow she rubbed her crotch against her uncle's thighs. She heard her uncle's gasps for breath. There was no doubt he was enjoying this too!

He paused, caressing her hot cheeks.

"I think you've been naughty enough to deserve this."

He looped his finger into the elastic band of her panties yanking them down to right below her cheeks.

"Please don't hurt me... I'll do anything you want... Please?"

"I'm sure you will, my little priss..."

A second later his hand slammed against her bare ass down low so that his finger tips hit the bottom of his ball sack. The searing heat washed over her.

"Ohhhh please stoppp! I promise I'll be a good girl... Please?"

Another and another and Samantha's ass was on fire while her balls were churning. She was squirming uncontrollably as her uncle just held her tighter. He would push his hips against her as he spanked her, rubbing his hard cock against her waist over and over. Samantha felt sticky wetness on her skin and knew Steve was oozing pre-cum through her robe. As the blows rained down she arched her back exposing her balls even more.

"Ohhhhh, what a bad little girl you are!" He growled. "You want me to spank your cunt too..." He changed his angle and brought his palm down, fully striking her balls. They throbbed in reaction but her cock started aching for release too. The all too familiar buzz was building and she knew she was getting close to cumming.

"Uncle Steve please stop. I'm gonna make a mess in my pretty panties...Uhhhh!" Another blow.

"Don't you dare, priss. If you're gonna be a good girl you need to learn to hold it back..."

"I caaaaan't..." she whined, pressing her satin covered cock against his legs.

He was rubbing between her stinging cheeks. "If you make a mess you'll be cleaning it up missy, and I don't mean with a tissue!"

"I promise Uncle Steve, I'll be your bestest girl. I'll never do anything wrong. I'll do whatever you want..."

"Fuck, of course you will... You're gonna be my little toy..." He was reaching for something. She thought it was another beer but as he raised it over his head she saw in a flash what it was!

"Nooooooo!" with a loud whack the leather belt crossed both of her cheeks. With that blow there was no chance of regaining control. She felt every nerve in her body light up and then she was shaking, convulsing totally as the cum poured from her cock.

"My pretty panties!" she cried out.

She heard and felt her uncle grunting and shaking as he came too. He held her tightly as he thrust his pelvis upward with each spurt. She could feel the heat spreading along her waist and back as his cum arched up and out of his spasming cock and she knew she was satisfying her first man! She twisted her body towards his and pushed down against him, smashing their spurting cocks together. Hers in a tight pair of satin panties, his sticking out of the opening of a loose pair of cotton briefs.

In a moment they were both laying there panting with satisfaction. Samantha looked up at her uncle. His eyes were closed and his head was back against the chair. She noticed the tiny smile and she didn't think she'd ever seen him more relaxed. She felt his cock twitch and felt the huge mess she'd made.

Carefully, she slid off him until she was kneeling between his spread legs. She was inches from his slightly erect cock. His cotton underwear was dark with the cum that had leaked out and down. She reached down between her legs and rubbed her still rock-hard cock through her cum soaked panties. She knew he had just made her dream come true and was about to make another one come true.

Samantha reached down and carefully pulled his underwear down. "What are you doing?" her uncle said.

"I'm showing you what a good girl your little Samantha can be..." She stared at his manly cock, it was streaked with thick globs of white and clear cum. There were globs in his curly hair and even his balls had some smudges mixed in with the sweat. She felt her nostrils flaring and sucked in the musky scent. Salty sweat, the overpowering scent of old nuts and salty ocean mixed with a tinge of pee.

She opened her mouth and searched out the first thick glob. It was so bitter compared to her own and it was thick and stringy but she rolled it around over her tongue before swallowing it loudly. She felt a strong hand on each side of her head.

"What a good girl... good girl Samantha..."

She thanked him with her tongue, licking every inch of his hairy balls and suddenly hardening cock. She twirled her tongue through his thick pubic hair struggling to find more tasty cum. Finally she felt a tug on her head and she looked up.

"Do you wanna be a really good girl..."

"Yesss..." she whispered lapping at his balls like a puppy.

"Then open your mouth..."

She did. She knew what was coming and welcomed it. Slowly he moved her until her lips were poised over the tip of his shiny cock-head.

"Are you ready to be my special girl?"

She shook her head and he pushed down.

Chapter 4

Samantha giggled as she walked from the bedroom to the kitchen in order to fix her babydoll Stevie his breakfast. She loved the feeling of her cock and balls being enveloped by the soft folds of her peach satin and black lace nightgown and matching peignoir, a recent gift from her man. And she was reminded again of the almost nightly spanking and fucking she loved getting from her sweetie as her nightie swished against her constantly stinging and burning asscheeks.

"Ouch! MMMmmmmm. Doesn't that feel delicious?" she thought to herself with a giggle.

Getting spanked by his hand was OK but she had started to need more pain to get off with the same intensity that she did that very first time at the beginning of their relationship. Pain must be a bit like drugs she thought, always needing higher and higher amounts to reach the same plateau because she was now begging her honey to beat her with his belt before fucking her hard and roughly. She knew it was considered "sick" by most people but she also knew that her orgasms took the top of her head off when she was being whipped and she knew she couldn't give it up. She was so happy that Steve took it in stride and had started to enjoy treating her like a whore and "forcing" her to do more and more degrading things before he would consent to beat her and fuck her the way she craved. But what she loved most was the feeling of knowing that she had satisfied her man when she walked around the apartment in the mornings and felt his cum leaking out of her pussy hole and down her inner thigh. It was perhaps the smell as much as the tickle of the thin stream of cum that thrilled her and told her she had been a good girl and had pleased her baby.

She smiled as she thought about her new life as her Uncle Steve's "wife". She loved this man who had taken control of her life and had made her stop going to school so she could live full time as a sexy bitch. It thrilled her to live her life as his wife and whore; to be always ready and available to satisfy his sexual hunger whenever the mood hit him. She didn't miss in the slightest any of her friends from her previous life. She had simply told them that with her parents dead "he", Sam, would be going away to live with some other relatives.

And what a wonderfully erotic life she was now living. Steve had given her a monthly budget to be spent on clothes, heels, accessories, makeup, hair appointments, skin and beauty treatments, manicures and pedicures. In fact, Samantha had been shocked at the amount of time it took her to become and stay sexy for her little Stevie doll. Her hair had grown to just past her shoulders by now and the light auburn color with platinum streaking she had chosen had made so much difference in how old she looked. She had wanted a Jennifer Aniston kind of look and loved what Estella had done to her the last time she had her hair done.

Her ears now had six piercings in one ear and three in the other. Her fingernails used to have to be fake to be long enough to leave scratch marks down Stevie's back and buttocks but they had now grown out so that her natural nails were almost ½ an inch longer than the end of her fingers. Yesterday she had her regular manicurist take off the pink nail varnish she almost always favored and had her paint on French tips. She was always going to be a Cosmo girl obsessed with her figure, and sexy, tight dresses and shortie-shorts and high heels and pleasing her man and getting her own share of cums but she thought she was entering a phase where she would be less of a Cosmo girl and more of a Vogue girl: classy and stylish. Steve seemed to be earning a lot more money these days and her budget had grown to almost $1,500 a month. Which to her young 16 year old mind seemed like a fortune. She didn't particularly care or even think about where the money was coming from but she knew she could get anything out of her baby that she asked for. She knew it because she could feel the weight on her chest of her latest request.

One of the results of her last fulfilled wish was the softness of her clear skin and the size of her tits. After a year of monthly hormone shots and daily pills she still didn't have the least amount of hair anywhere except above her cock and even that was thinning out and getting finer and softer. But she had lost her patience when it came to her A cup flat chest. After being particularly submissive and good to her man one night and begging him to give her the tits she knew she was born to feel, Steve had taken her to see a plastic surgeon he said he knew who wouldn't ask questions. Steve told her to give him some of her best loving and she'd get any sized tits she wanted, no questions asked.

Dr. Sorkoski seemed pretty spaced out to Samantha when he had examined her and she was mildly shocked to see him bend down to his desk, cut two long lines of coke and snort them up into his nostrils in two long intakes before coming over to where she was sitting. She knew it was coke because she had helped Steve snort it a few times over the past year before they had sex. He wouldn't let her have any even though she begged him for some and sometimes she thought he didn't love her at all since he'd never let her try any but just wanted it all for himself. In the end, though she really didn't mind because he would do things to her when he was high that he wouldn't or couldn't do any other time. His verbal abuse of her was harsher and she thrilled at the filth of his language. He would call her the vilest, dirtiest names that served to inflame her need for submission and confirmed the fact that she had become his property...His tgirl fuck-toy... His whore: A cum-hungry boy-bitch that would do anything to please her honey.

She had grown to long for those nights he'd take out his little packet of aluminum foil and let her cut his lines for him because she knew he'd treat her the way she needed and wanted to be treated and that she'd cum with more explosive force and intensity than she ever dreamed possible. The euphoria she'd experience after her cock exploded and she spewed all of her girlboy juice onto Stevie's thighs or his cock and balls or his stomach or, if she was really lucky, his face made her ever more dependent on being his scum-loving, sex queen. The high she experienced from those massive cums were as intense as any hit of drugs she'd ever heard about. She had definitely become addicted to being a trannie slut and kept hoping her man would become addicted to his cocaine so she could get high on the sex he gave her.

And the sex they had when he was flying high was incredible and like nothing she ever imagined possible. He got bigger and harder. He beat her with more savage anger. His dick never got soft. He'd fuck her ass and make her lick his asshole and suck his cock for hours and hours while he was flying until he had nothing left. She would be coated with cum: It would be caked into her hair and on her face and lips. He would pull and pinch and bite and suck her tits until they would scream with pain at the slightest touch of her nightgown or breath of air. Her asshole would be stretched so wide she couldn't hold his cum in and she would feel it drip down her thighs all night long. It was a feeling she never got tired of and made her own girlcock stay hard until she'd masturbated her hunger away. Cocaine made Steve so horny that he'd fuck until he was raw with dry cums being the only result. If Samantha needed to get off herself after he'd pass out the only sound she'd hear would be him moan through the fog of his exhaustion. It was on these nights that she'd first discovered the joy and pleasure of being able to fuck a nice tight boy-butt. Steve would be so out of it that she could turn him over, put a big pillow under his pelvis to raise his ass, spread his legs and lube his ass with her tongue and saliva until he was slippery.

The first time she put her cock up to his sphincter and slipped her head in until her glans popped past his tight ring and slid up into the soft folds of his rectum was enough to make her cum harder and more copiously than she'd ever cum before. She was shocked and amazed that there was a whole higher level of nirvana to experience in the world of sex. She didn't need to pump more than three times to get off. And when she came, she knew she was hooked on fucking just as much as being fucked. From then on she would pray that her baby would pull out his foil packet, tell her how hot it made him to see his underage little t-whore cut his lines for him, bend over to inhale them and get high so that later in the early hours of the morning she could bend him over something and slip her 8" shaft up his ass and fuck and cum until she too collapsed from the sheer pleasure of being drained dry.

As she faced Dr. Sorkoski, and watched him screw up his face at the impact of his hit of cocaine, she automatically slipped into her hottest, whore-in-search-of-hot-sex mode of acting. She was excited at the prospects of what might happen with the doctor because her experiences with Steve. She was praying that the doctor would fuck her several times and still have enough cum left for her to drink a nice load after a blowjob. Maybe this doctor would need to be serviced by her raging cock too. Her clitty had already started poking up and tenting out her bright orange mini-skirt at the thought and her large brown nipples hardened and poked out through her peach colored lace A cup bra and hot pink halter top.

She knew this would be a different kind of exam when he had asked her to strut across the room before she undressed for him. She smiled her most kittenish smile and looked up at him through her long violet-colored mascara-ed eyelashes. She knew she looked hot today. Steve had requested that she look especially sluttish. And she felt incredibly sexy in her favorite heels. Her pink 4" high platform heels with fat pink satin ribbon ankle straps that tied in bows behind her upper ankle and tiny little rhinestone covered straps across her instep with her frosted pink toenails peeking out at him. She wore no stockings in the summer heat and her long, silky-smooth tanned legs went on for miles before her tiny little pink-orange, skin-tight, lycra skirt came down to barely hide her tight buttocks. The skirt had a hot pink zipper with a large ring in the front and Steve had made sure that it was unzipped to the level of her see-through lace covered crotch before he had sent her into the doctor's office. While her halter top was gossamer thin and revealed every detail of her beautifully feminine bra.

She felt almost naked but she had grown to love the feeling of being put on display by Steve to shock and titillate and excite any man who caught sight of her. She loved knowing that their eyes would glaze over and their hands would tremble and their cocks would stiffen at the sight of her. She loved the power to turn them into slobbering idiots and she had learned quickly that she could sidle up to any man and wrap one of her legs around his and run her long fingernails up his chest and purr into his ear and get anything she asked for.

When she had strutted down and back the doctor told her to get undressed but didn't give her a smock to wear or tell her to change behind a screen. He just stood there and watched her untie her halter and take off her top and shimmy out of her skirt.

"Oh yeah, I love your taste in lingerie honey" he said with a smile. "Come to Papa and let me get that clasp for you."

She turned her back to him and felt his hands lift up her hair and then linger on her soft shoulders after her bra straps fell away. His hands moved around to her titties and she couldn't help groaning as he pinched her nipples.

"How did he know she loved a little pain? Has Stevie been talking?" she asked herself.

He continued to stand behind her and pulled her hard onto his chest and stomach and crotch as he massaged her tits and pulled her nipples to the ripping point. She gasped as she felt the size and hardness of his penis straining against the soft folds of her lacy bikini bottom and she felt a shiver of sexual excitement run up her spine as she realized there was nothing she could do to stop herself from reaching behind her and squeezing his cock through his lab coat and pants. What a fucking whore. What a slut. What a cunt. She realized that she was nothing but a transexual cock sucking gutter tramp and for the first time in her life she wallowed in the sensuous pleasure of abandonment to her voracious physical and warped psychological hungers. In fact, she had to giggle out loud as she reached behind her pert ass to grab his sausage and run her fingernails up and down its length.

He moaned, pushed her to her knees, turned her around and opened his pants to let his purple-veined tool flop out and hit her forehead. His cock must have been 3" longer than Steve's and instead of fitting perfectly into her ovaled fingers like Steve's, Dr. Sorkoski's prick needed both her hands together to fit around him as she stroked him. But his penis head felt just as silky smooth and spongy as Steve's when she slipped it past her soft wet lips and began sucking his cock. His pre-cum tasted divine. Slightly saltier and a bit more bitter than Steve's. It was almost medicinal in flavor.

She pushed her face down as far as it would go and started gagging on his cockhead as it tried to slide past her tonsils and into her throat. He grabbed her by her hair and pulled her up and down his shaft as he hunched in and out of her.

"Oh fuuuuuck... Oh yeah, baby... You are sooooooo good, so fucking good. Mmmm... Steve told me you were the best cock sucker he'd ever had but... Now I know he wasn't lying... You love cock don't you baby?... Hmmm? ...I can tell you love cock."

"Give me your sweet cock-juice Doctor... And then you can decide how much I love cock... You can watch me swallow your load. OK, sweetums?... Don't you need to release it all?... Don't you need your little sugar to kiss it and suck it and make it cum and spurt and shoot?... Hunh, babydoll?... Don't you?... That's right... Let Mommy suck her baby dry... MMmmmmmmm... Don't you want little Samantha to coax it all out of you?... Don't you want to get rid of all that toxic scum that's been building up inside you all day long so you are nice and empty and clean and relaxed and happy?... C'mon sugar... C'mon... Give it to Mommy... Shoot it for me baby... Oh yes... That's it!!!... Mommy can feel it starting to shoot... Oh yeah, there it is... Pump it all over my face baby... Spray it into my mouth... Don't waste any... C'mon. Shoot it. Pump it. Spray it."

Over a period of four months and three separate operations Dr. Sorkoski had given her 5' 4" frame 36D tits and removed her two lowest ribs to make her figure tinier. He had injected her lips with collagen to make them fat and pouty and sensuous. And he had continued to give her her hormone shots and regulate them just enough so she continued to get hard and feel the urge to fuck and cum.

All during this period Steve would drive her over to the doctor's apartment and she would perform a variety of sexually degrading acts that had turned her on more than anything she had ever done with Steve. Her favorite activity was to cut 8 long lines of coke on his desktop and after snorting 2 of the lines herself, while the doctor was on his knees behind her, nuzzling into her asscrack and licking her pussy hole, she would pull him to his feet by the hair to allow him to snort 2 lines.

While the doctor would sit in his chair slowly jacking his cock, she would slap his face as hard as she could, spit into it, take his balls in her long-nailed, manicured fingers and squeeze until he his cock was ready to explode. Once she knew he was putty in her hands she would back away and do a slow strip tease down to her stockings, garter belt and bra, then dress up in a specially constructed patent leather catsuit the doctor had bought for her that allowed her tits and her cock to stick out for his pinching, pulling, biting and sucking pleasure. He had her wear red and black patent leather thigh high boots that laced up the front with satin ribbons that tied at the top. The fact these boots were worn over her catsuit legs made her feel more whorish. And the 6" heels made her tower over him so she could slap him and knee him and dominate him the way he needed..

She would then tie him to an overhead beam and gag him with an enormous cock-shaped dildo. She would tease him with her soft, fat, lipsticked lips until he would whimper for release and then proceed to beat him until he had lost consciousness only to be revived by the pain of feeling Samantha's 8" cock slip into his rectum to fuck him raw and senseless. The exam would end after Samantha and he shared the rest of the coke and he had fucked her until she felt his sperm spurt up into her receiving rectum and she sucked her own cum out of his asshole.

Besides the fabulous figure she got from Dr. Sorkoski over those pleasure filled months, maybe best gift of all was that the doctor had taught her the ecstasy of drugs and their ability to let her live other realities and perform sexually at levels that overloaded her senses. She also learned that she got off on inflicting pain and loved turning big, strong, horny men into senseless, masochistic playthings who would do anything for her pleasure if only she would give them what they needed in return. She had the ability to get whatever she wanted out of any man she set her sights on. In fact, he had taught her at the tender young age of 17 that most men were pathetic wimps who only craved sexual release and she had reveled in the knowledge that she no longer idolized or cared about them except as vehicles for her own pleasure.

This was the doctor's true gift to her and she thanked him in every way her body could be used to thank him. And as the scars from her operations healed and there was no longer any excuse to visit the doctor, she worked out her plans to use other means to get the drugs she adored. Yes, she continued to love fucking Steve and receiving his beatings and verbal abuse as the pleasure she felt that morning revealed once again to her. But she needed more. She was tired of begging Stevie for some of his coke which he still refused to share with her. She missed the amount of cocaine Dr. Sorkoski had let her consume before each session and wanted the escape and the high it brought. She craved the feeling of being hopped up so high that nothing could stop her from inflicting the harshest whippings and fucking and cumming repeatedly in men's asses and mouths and faces.

Within weeks Samantha no longer asked Steve to share his drugs. She merely went out onto the street when he was working and within an hour had made enough money giving blowjobs to anonymous men that she could buy all that she wanted or needed. And after snorting a long line, she'd go back out onto the streets and take her pleasure with every man that wanted what her special talents and cravings and cock-heavy shemale's body provided them.

Chapter 5

She was at the stove finishing cooking their breakfast as Steve came into the kitchen.

"Honey baby, will you come over here to help me with something?" she cooed.

Steve came over and put his arms around her, running his hands up her stomach to cup her huge breasts and pinch her nipples.

"Stop that baby! Not now. I need you to pull my nightie off of my cock. You know how it sticks to my cock tip when my cum has dried. So help me. And, if you hurt me, I'll punish you by withholding my services from you" she threatened with a grin.

Steve got down on his knees and took her satin covered cock into his mouth. He let his saliva slowly saturate her nightie and soften the dried cum until he could slip her penis out and let it hang down and away from the crispy cum and saliva-wet area of the nightgown.

"Will you be coming home for lunch today or can I go shopping with Erica? I know how much you like me to look hot when we go out at night and I saw the sexiest little dress on sale down at Bloomies and thought you'd love to see me strut past the boys in it. I think you are so cute the way you get turned on when you take me out to look sexy and provocative while hanging off your arm. And knowing that all those men are looking at me with lust in their eyes and big fat, cum-filled bones in their pants just aching for a chance to spread my legs and fuck my tight little asshole makes you hot doesn't baby... MMmmm?... You love that don't you doll?... But Mommy knows my butt is your property... I know that's reserved for you... Isn't it loverboy?"

"Oh, and sugar, I was thinking of getting my eyeliner permanently tattooed under my eyelashes. I know you get hot and hard when I look like a little slut and you are always yelling at me for taking too long to do my eyes the way you like when I am getting ready for you... I was thinking that it would save so much time if I didn't have to always paint on a thick line on my top eyelid and the edge of my eyelid below. What do you think? I know you love my eyes to always look heavily made up and it takes soooooo long to draw my eyeliner on every morning. This way I can just put on my shadow and some mascara and I'm done with my eyes! And they'll always look the way you like them... Tell me it's OK... Pretty please baby? You know if I get my way that I'll treat you extra special tonight especially after that wonderful little suck to loosen my cock from my nightie... And I won't say no to any of your more disgusting requests... You sick pervert!!!!... Ooooo, and don't I love you for it too????... giggle."

Steve was busy with some papers and looked up to focus on what his sexy little nephew-turned-sex-queen was saying. Samantha had become a real chatterbox and often Steve found that he tuned her out. In fact, sometimes he thought she talked so much just to make him mad so he would treat her especially hard. He still couldn't get over how much she loved to be used and mistreated. He had to admit it to himself though, that he had grown to love the whole sordid ritual of her provoking him, his anger, her hunger to be slapped and tied and beaten and raped. The harder he treated her, the happier and more contented she became.

As he reflected on what Sam had turned into and how much he had grown to need it, he was struck once again by how normal their sordid and bizarre relationship had begun to seem. It had been almost three years since that first afternoon when he had found Sam dressed in his mother's lingerie, made up to look like a whore, spanking himself.

Since that first incredible session of spanking and whipping and the subsequent oral and anal sex they had experienced, so much had happened. Sam had demanded that he be Samantha every moment that he was not in school. He had also promptly moved into Steve's bedroom and bed. From the first day of discovery Sam had begun living with Steve as his wife Samantha and Steve had to admit that he had never been happier. In fact, Steve had never experienced such pampering since he had left home as a rebellious 17 year old... Samantha's age now.

He had really begun to depend on her attentions. She bought him clothes and kept him looking sharp. His laundry was done regularly. His shirts ironed and his shoes shined. The apartment was immaculate. Dinner was always ready when he came home. And the sex was unbelievable. It was the stuff fantasies are made of or at least the stuff he had read about in his porn magazines for years. At least he was the only guy he knew whose only complaint might be that his woman was too horny and too demanding and needed to be kept in line with a strong arm and lots of leather applied to her upturned ass.

It never dawned on him to ask himself where she learned about the things she wanted him to do to her or the things she would suddenly require him to let her do. He also didn't stop to think about how desperate he had become for her cock. He found that he dreamed about taking her gorgeous fuckpole into his mouth and drinking her sweet nectar all day long. He got especially horny at work when he thought about how she would make him get on his hands and knees and what it felt like when her fat hard cock slid up his anus and how hard she'd fuck him. He had discovered that he preferred his cums when she wanked him with her hand while pounding his ass with her meat. Before he knew what was happening, he realized that she had become the Mistress and he the slave instead of the other way around. Even when he was spanking her or beating her with a belt he found that she was subtly directing him to do what she wanted him to do.

Her spending had gotten out of control. She was now spending upwards of $4,000 a month on God knows what. They had moved to a bigger and nicer apartment. She had redecorated it and although he had to admit that their bedroom was the most femininely beautiful sanctuary he'd ever been in, he knew that he could no longer count on his drug deals to pay the bills. In fact he had gotten himself deep into hock with the mob trying to satisfy her need for money when his drug deals had gone sour.

His loan shark was a slimey little Italian named Luigi Bianchi and he was getting rougher and more physical every day. Steve was getting worried and he didn't know what he could do. The store certainly didn't earn enough and his source of drugs had stopped using him as a distributor. He was beside himself with worry since he knew he had a meeting that day with Luigi and he didn't have the dough to meet his loan payment.

"Look Luigi. How many times I gotta tell ya? I just don't got the dough... OK? You know I offed my sister and her brother for the shop and you know it worked great as a front for our drug deals... So why aren't ya lettin' me get back to dealin'? I wasn't takin' much for myself. Really I wasn't. Ya gotta believe me. You know I was honest except for a little snort once in a while. You know that! It was just to get a little high for sex with my old lady. You know how hot Samantha gets when I get high... I already told you. So, c'mon man. Let me get back to dealin' so I can pay you what I owe."

"Stevie boy. It ain't me. I don't make the fuckin' rules. I follow em. And you gotta pay or we'll have to take from you til it hurts."

"What're gonna take? You know I ain't got nuthin'. Not even the stuff in the apartment is mine since I owe for it too. So what's ta take?"

"Well, we need girls to work down at Tony's place and Samantha is exactly the kinda girl Tony specializes in offering his clientele..."

"Fuck NO!!! Luigi. You tell your mother-fuckin' asshole capos to lay off. Samantha's under age and she ain't that kinda girl. She's off limits. I'll die in hell before you take her for your dirty world."

Luigi looked over the table at this little nothing, this worm of a man who didn't know a thing about what his little lover-boygirl was up to on her days and nights while she was alone.

"Steve. Come with me. I got sumpin' ta show ya."

They got up and walked into the late afternoon light and down 8th Avenue to the meat district. Steve had no idea where they were going or why Luigi was taking him there but he was in no position to argue or to rebel. In fact, he realized that he was in no position to prevent the inevitable. Either he'd be dead or Samantha would be dancing at Tony's and turning tricks for all the closet gay boys in their pin-striped suits and their suburban-husband/dad-bread-earning macho roles who sneaked into the place at the end of their stress-filled days for a little thrill of girlboy tits and cock.

"Oh FUCK!!!!! How'd he get himself into this mess?" he wondered for the millionth time.

Suddenly, Luigi pulled him into a doorway and told him to look across the street behind the truck that was backed into a loading dock. Steve looked up and saw a guy bent over a load of boxes with a sexy looking whore (at least from the back anyway) standing behind him. She looked hot and Steve could understand why the guy had picked her to do him. She was the kind of girl Steve liked: a whoring slut, dressed to thrill. Her blond streaked red hair streaming down her back. Earrings dangling and bracelets tinkling as she moved. Her legs were long and perfectly proportioned in her red high heels. She wore black seamed stockings with reinforced heels and heavily laced tops showing under the raised hem of her red and black animal print skirt. Her tiny waist and ample tits left nothing to the imagination as they were outlined in nipple-baring detail by her skin tight black mohair sweater that left her midriff bare and showed a deep cleavage. The guys pants were lowered to his thighs and Steve could tell that the whore had hiked up her skirt in front because of the way it was stretched against her asscheeks. She was casually smoking a cigarette while she was rocking on her stiletto heels forwards and backwards.

"Oh fuck Luigi. You know I don't need to see this to know what ya got planned for Samantha... I know what she is and even though that whore over there is the kinda tgirl butt-fucker you guys want her to become, I know Samantha ain't that kinda girl. She won't go for it Luigi. And I ain't askin' her to neither."

From their doorway, the two men watched the girl flick her cigarette aside and take the man by his hips and begin to really lay into him: Fucking him with long, powerful strokes. The guy under her was beginning to moan out loud and they could hear him begin to babble.

"Unnnh... Unhhhhh... Oh yeah... fuck that ass babydoll... Oh sugar... You're the best aren't you?... Oh yeah... Oh fuck... That feels good baby... I've needed this all day... Ooooomph... I thought I'd never be able to get out of my meeting with that fucking banker in time to find you before you went home to daddy... Unnnnnnnhhhhh... Mmmmmm... Getting close honey... Oh yeah... Davie's getting close... Please baby? Reach around the way I like it and wank me... Get me off baby with your soft girlie hand... If you do I'll give you a bonus... Oh FUCKKKKKKKK!!!!!! I'm cumming... I'm CUMMING!!!!!!!!!!!"

He suddenly slumped forward and lay still on the box beneath him while the trannie whore wiped her heavily cum-coated hand on his suit jacket and thrust three last big fucks until one last thrust left her all the way up his ass. It was clear by the way she was shaking and her legs were trembling that she was spraying his rectal passage with her own load of cum.

Tony couldn't take his eyes off the scene and had to reach into his pants pocket to rearrange his hardening dick. He kept his hand there and was slowly stroking himself through his pants and dreaming of getting home to his own sweet Samantha. God, that whore was hot. He knew just what the guy was feeling. He knew how mind-bogglingly pleasurable his cum must have been and the feeling of contented bliss he got from taking a huge load of thick tgirl cum up his rectal pussy.

He was about to leave when Luigi pulled him back and made him look over to see the girl take the packet of cocaine from her john, open it and dip her little fingernail into the powder and lift it to her nose. Steve was rooted to the spot as he watched Samantha's face break into a smile and her other hand come up to hold the side of her nose while she diped her nail and sniffed a second time. Her huge softening cock was still glistening with the lube and the cum she'd spewed up her john's ass as she hadn't even taken the time or bothered to put her dick away and pull her skirt down before she took her next hit of coke.

Steve and Luigi could hear her laughter as the white powder hit her brain and little Davie, investment banker, took her cock into his mouth to clean her off. They watched him suck her back into an erection and stood in muted silence as Samantha eventually came all over his face in a paroxysm of drug induced giggling and shouted obscenities at her groveling, faggot, trannie-chasing, cock sucking, closet gay, butt-boy.