I Traded My Man Card For a Man
What follows is a fictional tale concerning my decision to abandon my identity as a man. In reality, I cherished being seduced by my partner as well as another man. Numerous accounts on this topic can be found on my website. This is yet another story that explores a guy like me being transformed into something else.
I didn't recognize that guy. Whatever his intentions were, I had no idea. His rude demeanor even managed to slightly arouse me.
He wore an anxious expression on his face as he approached me at the bar during happy hour. I was surrounded by colleagues, both male and female, celebrating the completion of a successful project with liquor.
I would classify myself as a geek or nerdy in the real world. Standing at an inconsequential height of 5'6", my distinguishing physical feature is my bottom. Spending my entire youth and adulthood seated behind a desk has been the cause of its expansion.
During my teenage years, females found me adorable. Males labeled me either a homo or a sissy, depending on who was acrimoniously labeling me.
I hated haircuts. When I was old enough to make my own decisions, I refused to have my locks truncated. I preferred to keep my tresses in a ponytail, which reached down my back almost to my waist.
However, despite my size, it wasn't particularly long.
In college, my fellow students were more progressive, more civilized, and some, far too queer. The jocks would take liberties with me when I passed by. While their large hands on my plump buttocks felt empowering to them, I would always react the same way. I would gasp, then blush and giggle as I rushed away. This was my method of defense.
One of my classmates informed me that it was my attire and coiffure that elicited that reaction. "Johnnie, baby doll, you shouldn't wear those bike shorts around those jocks. Your ass shakes like Jell-O. That and you're so precious, they think you're one of the girls."
"Us?" I inquired.
"Yes, like one of the girls, silly," they replied.
I recognized that some males found me appealing. Not every man, of course, but enough to occasionally make me feel odd and sensual when consuming alcohol.
This man issued me a room key to a nearby hotel and whispered, "I hope to see you there in 20 minutes."
I was bewildered as I gazed at the room key.
"Who was that?" One of my coworkers asked.
"I have no idea," I responded.
"Are you going to meet him?"
Some suggested I was foolish. Others encouraged me to accept the opportunity and embark on an adventure. "Look, Johnnie, we all witnessed him. He's aware that we know what he looks like. You have his room key, so you can find out his name and text it to us to ensure he doesn't harm you."
Their words resonated with me. I held the plastic keycard in my hand and pondered. The man was attractive; well-dressed and his cologne held an expensive fragrance.
"Should I go to his room?" I pondered to my fellow workers.
"Don't be a coward," said a coworker.
"So childish," I contemplated.
I emptied the remainder of my first martini and ordered another. I glanced at my watch: five minutes had passed since he had abruptly invited me to his room.
"Will you actually go up there?" Asked several members of my team.
"I'm not entirely certain," I replied. "Perhaps he has some wealthy relative that has unexpectedly passed away and left me a fortune."
"That's not likely to happen, Johnnie," they chided.
Nevertheless, my inquisitiveness had been piqued by alcohol-induced courage. "I'll go see what he wants," I declared. Additionally, I felt rather lonely. "I could use a friend," I determined.
As my coworkers cheered me on, I said, "Go get him, Johnnie," and "If you're not at work on Monday, we'll contact the police."
I entered a ride-sharing car for the brief drive. Upon arrival at the hotel, I noticed it was a costly establishment. The lobby lounge and piano bar caught my attention, and I had an idea. I approached the front desk and asked them to call the room associated with the keycard and ask whoever responded to meet me in the lobby bar.
"Mr. Wallace will be here soon, sir," the clerk replied with a smile.
I sat at a table not far from the lobby, ordering just a glass of water and waiting.
About five minutes later, that man appeared. He glanced at the bar and lifted two fingers without halting. Sitting across from me, he introduced himself. "My name is George Wallace. My friends call me G. W.. You may refer to me as Mr. Wallace."
I handed him the keycard and began. "I'm Johnny. My friends call me Johnny. We can refer to each other as Mr. Johnny."
His expression changed, perhaps no one had addressed him this way before. Then he chuckled. "For the moment, I'm Mr. Johnny. I hope this relationship evolves as we get to know each other."
"Why the invitation, Mr. Wallace?"
"I wanted to meet you. I've seen you somewhere before, although you wouldn't know."
I inquired where he'd seen me.
"The fitness center on 4th Avenue where you work out."
"You're probably thinking of someone else, Mr. Wallace. I swear, I don't exercise there."
"Mistake," he stated. "I've witnessed you engaging in your yoga pants and midriff shirt, executing Jazzercise dancing, and performing Aerobics exercises."
"I see where you've spotted me. It doesn't explain why you wanted me to come here tonight."
He chuckled, "You're direct, Johnny. As I said, I've observed you in your form-fitting leggings - yoga pants, and your terrific, top-tier derriere. I like to be candid, Johnny. I wanted to catch a glimpse of that backside in the raw."
I blushed slightly and stammered nervously, "That's unquestionably not happening, Mr. Wallace."
He laughed again. "Just pranking you. As a genuine query, I'd like to get to know you better. What about a friendship?"
"I suppose, why not," I smiled. "As your friend, you can address me as Johnny."
"To friends," Mr. Wallace said, raising his glass in my direction. Remarkably, he didn't mention I could call him by the name his pals use.
We chatted all night, and he seemed intensely interested in my thoughts.
He informed me that his wife had moved on, and the divorce had left him friendless. "Seems our friends all sided with her. A shame, but that's life."
We made plans to reunite the following day. Once again, Mr. Wallace was tender and, while a touch gruff, he was warm once he let his guards drop. I discovered him incredibly captivating and delightful to be around. The more time we passed together, the more I delighted in his company.
On the third night, we dined together. Mr. Wallace was always the perfect gentleman. The manner in which he held doors open for me, assisted me in my seat, his consideration seemed immeasurable. I must confess, Mr. Wallace made me feel important. Not even once at work did I receive a delivery of stunning flowers waiting for me at the security desk.
I inquired about the delivery he sent.
"Johnny, darling, I sent them as an act of affection, showcasing how much your friendship means to me. It's been a long time since my divorce, and no one's brought joy to my life as you have."
Those little gestures, like the time before, led to an increasing level of trust from me over a couple of months. So much so that when he invited me to spend the weekend at his house, I readily agreed. "What should I pack?" I was thrilled about the prospect of a weekend away.
"No need to bring anything. Just bring your sexy self, darling. I have everything you'll need."
Several days drifted by. But Mr. Wallace demonstrated his thoughts of me when yet another bouquet of flowers arrived at my workplace. The message read, "Looking forward to this weekend, darling."
I considered bringing up that endearment but decided it must just be one of Mr. Wallace's peculiarities, his means of demonstrating his affection.
Mr. Wallace phoned me before leaving the office. "Baby, a car's parked outside. I sent it to fetch you. Can't wait to see you, sweetheart."
"Thank you, Mr. Wallace. I'm eagerly anticipating this weekend with you as well."
I exited the building, and to my left stood a strong chauffeur holding a sign that read, "Johnny". "Hello, sir, I'm Johnny."
"Welcome, Johnny," he smiled.
He unlocked the back door for me and shut it. When he returned to the driver's seat, he shifted his gaze to me and smirked. "You'll find whatever beverage you desire in the kitchen, Miss. Mr. Wallace asked me to tell you that you're free to help yourself."
I sank into the comfy seat and pondered the weekend ahead. I intended to inform my host about the inappropriate title that was bestowed upon me. However, not packing any clothes seemed like a rash decision. But Mr. Wallace insisted on not bringing anything.
I stared out the window as the cityscape vanished and gave way to suburbs and then fields. I hadn't asked Mr. Wallace's address, thus perplexed regarding the reason for him living so very far from town.
A two-hour journey later, my driver announced, "We've reached our destination." And that demystified my curiosity as to why we were so far from civilization.
The front door was opened for me and upon entering, I beheld Mr. Wallace's expansive, lavish living room. The entire back wall comprised floor-to-ceiling glass, showing me the stunning view of the ocean. Doors swung open to let him enter, clad in a tight navy blue speedo. The water from his recent swim glistened on his body.
"johnnie, darling, you rock my world. Please, make yourself at home. I'll bring you a drink. Are you hungry? Did the car ride please you?"
I tried to suppress a smile at his eager enthusiasm, ending up hugging him tightly. My hands rested on his impressive biceps. His fingers encircled my hips. I couldn't help but gasp at the rush of excitement.
I smiled up at him, "Thanks for your invitation, Mr. Wallace. Your house - it's magnificent."
His hands slid a little lower on my ass. "I'm thrilled to have you here with me, johnnie, baby," he murmured, holding my lower half more intimately.
He later intertwined our fingers and led me outside onto the balcony. "Look at the gorgeous ocean view, mmm, and there's a swimming pool as well." As we observed the beachfront and the sea, Mr. Wallace's arm consoled me from behind.
"johnnie, I've been longing for company since... yeah, you know. I'm elated to have you accompany me."
We stood there for several moments. Then, guiding me to the pool, he proposed, "Why don't you go for a swim?"
"I'd adore to," I responded, but there was a problem - I had no swimming costume.
"No problem," he said with confidence. "I'll search through the drawers in my room and find something."
Accompanying him down the hallway, I watched as he turned toward his bedroom. He began rushing through his dresser, tossing clothes aside.
"Ex-wife didn't take much after she dumped me for another man."
Mr. Wallace hunted through the drawers, revealing panties, bras, and garter belts. In the end, his hand clasped a red bikini bottom. "This should be fine for now," he declared. "We'll buy you the one you like most tomorrow."
I lazily gazed at the itty-bitty garment - a small, red bikini bottom tied on with strings. "But Mr. Wallace, this is for a lady."
"Why not, johnnie? I think it would suit you."
"Well, there's the risk of someone seeing me."
With a worried expression on his face, he exclaimed, "No one will see you apart from me. The pool is part of a privacy-fenced area."
I couldn't resist his pleading expression. "I'll change in my bedroom, if you wouldn't mind."
"I'll be waiting by the swimming pool, johnnie."
The round derriere snuggled between my rear cleft, resulting in a feeling of sexiness. "Mr. Wallace mentioned that he wanted to see my butt naked. This is as much nudity as he's going to get," I thought as I descended the staircase and ambled onto the patio.
Mr. Wallace was lounging on a recliner, a tiny table next to it accommodating another chair for me. I beheld the colossal protrusion in his swimsuit and his gazing at me in a bikini did nothing to lessen it.
He sat up, presenting me with a glass of white wine. "Chardonnay for John," he smiled. I wandered over and took the provided drink. Mr. Wallace utilized my closeness to encircle my exposed bottom cheeks.
I distanced myself, though not before he observed my small erection protruding from the front of the tiny swimsuit. I giggled and instructed him to halt. "You're extremely forward, Mr. Wallace. I barely know you," I teased. Afterwards, I rotated 180 degrees, exposing my friend to what I believed would be the nearest thing to seeing it completely exposed.
"Damn girl, your ass is everything I knew it would be. Gorgeous and sensuous. Witness what you're causing to an elderly man."
I swiveled back to view his rubbing his penis through his swim shorts. My own penis was likewise engaged. I'd never pondered engaging in a relationship with a male. Not even once. Not ever. But Mr. Wallace was not just any male. "What on earth am I contemplating?" I pondered. "I'm going to go for a swim, Mr. Wallace, you naughty man," I beamed. I put my glass down on the table, narrowly evading his grasping my bottom again and went near the pool.
However, I was also feeling a touch naughty. I waggled my derriere as best I could, realizing Mr. Wallace wouldn't miss anything. My throbbing penis was sure to create issues.
I submerged myself and did a couple of laps before approaching the pool edge. Mr. Wallace was seated, his feet in the water. What transpired next couldn't be prevented. I "accidentally" swam between his legs and adhered my face to the swelling in his swimsuit.
When I realized my location, I made no effort to withdraw. "John," Mr. Wallace murmured. "Is this what you prefers?"
"Cease speaking or you'll terrify me away," I chastised him. I pushed down the waistband as far as possible and uncovered maybe 4" of hard cock. I gazed into his eyes as I licked and kissed the tip of his manhood. "Does that answer your inquiry?"
Mr. Wallace reposed so I could remove his swimsuit entirely. I settled my lips on his balls and kissed them, sucking lightly and savoring the way they shifted as though churning.
Soon, Mr. Wallace was lying on a blanket as I mastered how to cater to a genuine adult. He didn't require persuasion that this was my first time. My inept endeavors to take him deep and the instances where his penis collided with my teeth were ample evidence for Mr. Wallace to educate me on how to blow his cock.
I worked his cock gently up and down, transporting my lips up and down the length of his rigid shaft.
My knees were paining when Mr. Wallace informed me that he was about to ejaculate. "Taste me, darling. Taste your man, my precious girl."
My gut flipped hearing him address me as his girl. Perhaps it was the female swimsuit that made me feel feminine, perhaps there was something in the wine. Or maybe it was just Mr. Wallace. Regardless.
Having masturbated on various occasions in my 26 years, I realized how to quickly jab him, utilizing more pressure. It the way, his cock jerked and expanded with a formidable strength as he flooded my mouth with his thick semen.
I cannot tell you that I swallowed his whole load, but I did not. I coughed and choked, striving to ingest his priceless gift and concluded up licking most of it off Mr. Wallace's cock and testicles.
When I finished cleaning him, he pulled me close to recline alongside him. My head rested on his chest, his palm on my ass. "You're an exquisite young woman," he said without maliciousness.
"Mr. Wallace," I giggled, "I'm not a female."
"Baby girl, let me inform you something. That small dick doesn't make you or anyone a male. A male, I mean a real man has a cock. I don't say that to be unkind, John, honestly. But baby," he said, embracing me, "I've never considered you a male in the first place."
I turned to face him, my chin on his chest. "Sir, I'm uninformed regarding such matters. I've never had intercourse with anybody before."
Mr. Wallace looked astonished. "You've never slept with a female?"
"No, sir. Never."
"Ever desired to?"
I didn't get what you were saying, Mister Wallace.
He grinned. "Allow me to explain. My dear girl, your life has never known the company of male genitalia. You, child, weren't meant to have sexual encounters with the female gender."
I wasn't sure, Mister Wallace. Did you mean to say that I wasn't supposed to sleep with women?
"Firstly, let's eliminate the 'Mister Wallace' formality. Please address me as 'Daddy', my little girl. Can you do that?"
I nestled against him. "Yes, Daddy."
"Wonderful. Let's pick up the topic where we left off. Females gravitate towards the strongest, most sturdy males. You, pet, possess the stature and physique of a woman. Your personality is also quite submissive. No one would doubt that you are an actual male."
"I see where you're going with this, but what if I'm not a man?"
Daddy chuckled at me. "Sissy, you are what you are. Soft, sensual, and attractive to real men. Men like me can't resist both pussies and boys like you. Are you saying no one ever wants you, maybe ever caressed that full rear?"
I remembered college days when jocks would do that. "They did, Daddy. The jocks would sometimes touch my butt."
"It means they knew what you could offer. They instinctively knew you'd be more than willing to kneel before them and suck their penises. What did you do when they touched your rear?"
I was hesitant to answer. "I might have giggled and walked away."
"The athletes and you were both young; neither of you had experience or understanding of the relationship between men and sissies. When we find a girl as lovely and captivating as you, we claim her. And now that I've claimed you, I'll keep you, my lovely."
"Claim me? Keep me, Daddy? What do you mean by keep me?"
"Basically, you're my possession. You're mine and mine alone. You can be mine alone unless I share you with another man with whom you can perfect your blowjob skills."
"If I'm not a man, what am I?"
Daddy smiled gently at me. "Consider yourself a possessed one. You're mine, pet. I happen to own you. Don't you argue, you'll be the most prized sissy among the fortunate ones. Some men can be cruel; being rough with their sissy gives them a sense of masculinity, a feeling of being a real man."
"Daddy, I'm twenty-six. No one will spank me."
"Maybe not. But I'm convinced you've never imagined turning into a sissy with a penchant for pleasing men like me. Are you telling me that no guy ever sexually harassed you?"
I was struck by the vivid memories of college days. "Yes, Daddy. In college, the jocks occasionally held my bottom."
"You see now, baby, they knew what you could deliver. They imprinted you as their servile toy. When I found one as ravishing and adorable as you, I felt a strong focus towards taking full control. I assure you that I won't exploit you. If there ever is misconduct, you'll get your bottom spanked."
I hesitated. "Daddy, I'm an adult."
"So I see. But did you ever think you'd become a sissy, before you arrived here today?"
I felt a wave of emotions, tears inched forward. "I'm embarrassed to say I'm a sissy."
Daddy embraced me closely. "Cry, my daughter. Cry for the man you never were. But my angel, when you accept the reality of your identity, these tears will turn into tears of joy."
"Joy? Would you be glad if you had known you were a sissy since the day you were born?"
Daddy took deep breaths and thought for a bit. "Personally, I understand that grasping this may be difficult for you. The craving for men is a sissy's essence, your essence. Appreciate your attraction to real men and serve them as a sissy."
I left Daddy to use the restroom to dry my eyes. Daddy picked up his swimsuit and towel when I returned. "Get ready for dinner, my dear. Let's take a shower and change into our beach attire."
Seeing his cock swaying energetically while walking was mesmerizing, even through the swimsuit.
"Maybe my girl finds my impressive dick exciting."
His voice pulled me back into reality. "Oh! Yes, Daddy. The sight of your big penis is intoxicating."
When Daddy left me alone, I started going through the suitcase. "Oh wow," I exclaimed. I found a pair of black panties, a pastel pink Spanx, a low-cut top with puffy ruffled sleeves, and some white sandals. Daddy supposedly wanted me to wear these clothes? Aren't panties a little odd?
I carefully arranged the items on the bed and thought about the fun of the day. I wasn't sure how I felt about being owned, but Daddy was always kind to me. I was convinced he genuinely cared for my emotions. And that strange feminine sensation I had before hadn't subsided yet. Why was I hesitant to enjoy the female feelings he brought out in me?
I opened the brown bag. I saw lipstick, mascara, and eyeliner. I had no clue how to apply them, but luckily the lipstick was easy to manage.
It was difficult to conceal my arousal. I hopped into the shower in my bathroom and took off the elastic holding my hair. As I cleaned up, I pondered the events of the day and the clothes I was supposed to wear. "I didn't want a spanking," I said to myself.
"Daddy came prepared." I noticed the hair dryer, hair brush, and toothbrush hanging by the bathroom mirror, ready for use. He was extremely generous.
I blew dry my hair and decided to let it hang down the sides of my head instead of my usual tight ponytail.
I took out the lipstick and tried to use it, but it took me a few tries to get it right. I was pleased with the outcome. Admiring the shade on my lips, I remembered Daddy's cock earlier. My penis hardened again as I wondered how I had accepted that. But I knew he'd be entering me soon.
I put on the French-cut panty and Spanx. They were so thin that it was obvious I was wearing black panties. It seemed like I was a seductive young woman out and about.
I slipped the pink crop top over my head, gathered my hair, and put on the strappy sandals. I breathed deeply. Let Daddy see what he created.
"How do I look, Daddy?" I asked in a soft voice.
"You look fantastic, just perfect," he replied. "Turn around and let me admire your big behind."
"You'll be able to see the panties clearly through them," I told him.
"Exactly how I imagined it. You look gorgeous with your hair down. I want you to wear it this way from now on."
"Even at work?"
"Yes, sweetie, even at work," he said. "We might need to get your belly button pierced too, my love. It'll serve as a symbol of my ownership."
Daddy was always the perfect gentleman. He continued to treat me as though I was a woman. He opened doors, offered me his arm, and even used his napkin to wipe a smudge of cocktail sauce from my face during our dinner.
After our meal, Daddy shared his plans for the rest of the evening. He planned on ruining my ass to make it into a pussy.
"Um, you're suggesting you plan on taking my virginity?" I inquired.
"Absolutely, my darling. I've wanted to convert that big ass into a pussy for a long time," he revealed.
"I understand. You don't try to hide your intentions," I said.
Daddy kissed my hand. "Gentlemen always speak their minds — we don't waste time beating around the bush."
However, we were standing on the patio with the salty ocean air resonating around us. Daddy cupped my face and urged me closer. He placed his strong arms across my chest, holding me close. The breeze felt colder against our nude skin. I held him and dried my eyes with my hands.
Daddy's member was swelling, and his fingers caressed my hair. "Show your daddy what an excellent blowjob your sissy is capable of, darlin'," he murmured in my ear. He unfastened my belt and helped Daddy remove his trousers and underwear. He shed his shirt while I supported his backside. I took a deep breath and began to suck his cock.
Daddy fondled my hair with both hands. "There you go, kiddo," he applauded. "You're turning into a remarkable cocksucker."
He played with my hair on the back of my head. "Daddy loves his sissy," he whispered.
I traced my fingers over his firm ass. Daddy approached me from behind and placed his hands on my cheek, guiding my face to his. Our lips met, and I sank into the kiss. The kisses were more passionate than I had ever experienced before. I felt the same feminine sensations encircle me.
I undid his trousers and pulled them down. "Mmm, your Daddy has a big, thick cock," I chirped. I caressed his penis.
He caressed my head, "Good girl," he said in a gruff voice. "Prove to your Daddy how well you suck his cock."
I carefully kneeled and sucked Daddy's dick, impressing him with my cock-sucking prowess.
Take a moment, my love. In my experience, cock-suckers should be bare when serving their dads. However, you're special to me. Keep your panties on. I prefer it if you wear them at all times, at home, here, and at work. Throw away your male panties and embrace the appropriate attire for my little sissy.
Daddy observed as I unraveled my Spanx. I knew what he desired to witness, so before removing the garment, I shifted my back toward him. Bending at the waist, I felt Daddy emerge behind me. Holding my hips, Daddy straddled his cock against my large bottom.
"Pull your ankles, whore," he roared. I felt the rocking back and forth as Daddy slid his cock between my cheeks like he was fucking me.
He held me and simulated sex for several minutes before commanding me to face him.
Daddy seemed highly aroused. He captured my hair and furiously fucked my face as he cursed and referred to me as his gay sissy, cock-sucking slut, and more.
All I could do was cling to his thighs as he forcefully drove his cock into my throat, allowing me to deep-throat him for the first time. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed realizing that I was the one who stirred Daddy's desire enough for him to almost lose control.
As though to demonstrate his dominance, Daddy clutched the back of my head and jerked his cock, coating my face, neck, and chest with his abundant ejaculate. Then he used his cock to collect as much sperm as possible and had me lick it off.
"Damn, that was excellent. Go clean up, babygirl."
I scurried away and cleaned myself as instructed. Returning to Daddy, I had a question. Daddy? What about me?
"What about you?"
"Well, I haven't cum yet and I'm starting to ache downstairs."
Daddy turned from the bar, drink in hand. Still naked, his cock was still captivating. "Join me on the sofa, pet."
Daddy drew me into his lap. "Damn girl, I relish the sensation of your ass in panties on my cock."
My arms were around his neck. I kissed his cheek.
"Now you were questioning whether I would fulfill your needs, assist you in cumming??"
"Yes, sir. I mean, it's just...."
A swift smack on my rear silenced me.
"What I'm telling you, darling, is that real men find pleasure in your abilities, just as you revel in performing your sissy duties. However, real men won't play with your tiny penis, even if it were 12" long. That's not a part of our routine. When I fuck you, when we make love, you'll have your orgasm, similar to a woman. It's not my focus. Your orgasms aren't vital to me. When you cum from being fucked, it's just a by-product of me achieving mine."
"Then what you're conveying to me, Daddy, is that..."
Another sharp slap on my bottom ended my inquiry.
"What I'm communicating to you is that genuine men use people like you for our satisfaction. You are valuable to me in numerous ways, baby, but primarily to relieve my ball ache."
"That's not a fulfilling life for me, Daddy," I grumbled.
"Johnnie, I know you're intelligent. I know you've been to college, but sweetheart, you have no comprehension of what life is all about."
"Daddy," I murmured.
"What now?"
"Shut your trap and take me to bed. I want you to fuck your sissy."
I hoped you enjoyed this story and connected with it. I'd appreciate your comments.
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