My Secret Self - AnimePhilia.com

comsmith · #1 11-17-2008, 04:56 AM

My Secret Self!
TJ Ryder Sissytrain.com/

I started cross-dressing for a date in high school.
Now, three years later and a sophomore at college, I really
feel I have the best of both worlds. I was lucky though,
because I sort of accepted being bi after a Boy Scout
Jamboree when I was only 14, even though I did have
girlfriends. But then I graduated to Roosevelt High.

High school was pretty tense and humiliating for a slim,
slender white boy in an inner city school. The cute white girls
treat guys like shit and don't give them anything for it
and didn't even spit on non studly nerds like me anyway,
so I went from bi to gay. Still that was a problem because
if I came out gay then I'd have all the jocks beating me up
to make it even worse. It was great when I hooked up with
an older t-girl who gave me advice and things changed a whole
lot for the better. The first thing he told me was how lucky
I was in being passable. The second thing was for me to give up
on cruising in my own school or even circle of friends.
A change of image and a new environment. I met this
guy at my youth fellowship church meeting which was being so
liberal and trendy and all it had radical lifestyle guest speakers
from all over. He didn't pass himself all that well but I had to
chat with him afterwards in the parking lot, and he recognized
my sincerity.

I remember when I had to wait for my first non phys ed day
at school so I wouldn't have gym class before I first wore my
panties at school. That's when I knew how easy it would be to
become a different person. I had been letting my hair go long and now it just touched my shoulders. I had a smooth oval face anyway fortunately without ever having to shave so no beard line; and being only 5'5 and 135 lbs it wasn't all
that difficult. Six months after perfecting my 'secret self' it
was Friday night in 2 hours and I was ready. In fact I had a boner
all day running down my jeans and had to stand up between classes very carefully. Friday night was the cruising night, and the only night I was allowed some leeway on staying out late. One of the best things about having a secret self was how I was looking at things from a different perspective.

I know several black super-jocks now in school as an assistant
manager of the basketball team, and I used to resent the put downs I got as a white boy named Tracy, and the derision of nerd, wimp, fag, sissy terms, etc.

But I knew that as 'Stacy' I could get any of them
to make a pitch at me, but of course following my mentor's advice I didn't show Sheila at my own school or own neighborhood. In fact sometimes when a muscular brute was ragging on me I would be sizing him up, thinking how different he would be if I were Sheila. Anyway, this Friday as usual was a big school dance in the gymnasium.

Some of the other nerds were wistfully looking at the school
dance posters, and I remember trying that once myself,
standing on one side of a gymnasium and walking across that
wide floor to a bunch of girls only to be shot down in front
of the whole school, and walking back trying to keep my dignity
as everyone laughed.

Another nerd, Jayson from Physics, asked me if I was going,
and I said no.

"Whassup, Tracy, you actually got a date?"

I smiled, "you know I can't even buy a date in this school!"
That made him laugh and that's why he liked me, to make fun of
myself that way. Oh yeah, when you give it all up like I had there
aren't any illusions to maintain and that made it so much easier
to laugh at yourself.

"Really, Mary Lou is coming!"

Mary Lou was this babe I was hot for in the beginning of the
semester but now after making the cheerleader team only went out with super-jocks.

"Yeah, and going home with someone else!" I didn't tell him when I first did this scene I was going to a dance all right, just not this dance! I was going across town to the YMCA's Friday Night teen dance. If I told him that he might offer to come with me and that would spoil everything.

I didn't go all the way home on the bus, but stopped and stayed downtown instead of transferring to my suburban house. I had told mom I was going to stay over to go to the dance. Instead I went to the library, just like any kid with book bag. It was a great place to change because the library on the upper floor was a one room locked door unisex.

And that was me, cuz I was going in a boy and coming out a girl. I had shaved my legs and everything except for a small blondish triangle over my genitals the previous night and had done my pits and plucked my few chest hairs. I slipped my nylons and pumps on, kept my panties, and took of my shirt, and replaced it with my older sister’s training bra that she stuffed a little and never noticed it missing after she grew her own boobs, something I was going to do the minute I was
out of the house. It wasn't much but it gave me a little indentation to the sheer but sensible cashmere pink sweater I put on over it. Hefting the boobs, feeling the pliant rubber falsies, I felt a little guilty for some crazy reason. Then I added a pink heart on a chain, and added some eyeliner and lip gloss, very conservatively. I didn't have to add color to my cheeks, and my lips were full enough, but I was going to have them changed a bit too. I had a shopping list I wanted to do when I moved out of my house. I had already decided on a 34C boob job, big enough for some cleavage and small enough to conceal in a jacket or sweater. Just enough so I could be in both worlds.

I was going to wear the same coat, and all I had to do now
was tie my hair in ponytail with a pink ribbon and I was no
longer Tracy, but Stacy; and my back story was I went to a private girls school, St Catherine's, that matched my plaid skirt, another unknowing gift from my sister who went there a couple years, and it was well known that any St Cat's girl who hung around down town was a slut for the bruthas.

My first time, I would sit in the library afterwards and do my
homework until 7, when the dance began, and put my books back in the bag and take the bus to the Y. I remember that first time clearly. It was about half black and white attendance,
and a white girl was welcomed by both sides. I was attracted to
both but knew that as soon as I started dancing with blacks it
was like setting a switch, no white boy would touch me afterwards, pegging me as a nigger lover, so I got that out of the way first.

comsmith · #2 11-17-2008, 05:03 AM

I'm a good dancer and taught by my sister I danced like a girl.
I accepted a dance from a white kid who was just okay, and then
declined another, just fast dances to rock and roll. After that
I smiled and flirted at some big black studs who whispered to
each other and smiled, seeing the St Cat's skirt and laughed.
One came over, asked me and I smiled and said yes. We did two
fast dances and then, the first slow one. I said yes again,
and slipped into his arms. He was much taller and I had my head
near his chest instead of over his shoulder. I was thinking
next time I'd bring a pair of heels even though I hated them.
He asked me where I went to school, and I said St Cat's, which
he knew, just making conversation. He said his name was Tyrone, a senior at Jefferson High. He was almost jet black, close cropped hair, very muscular, and his big hands dropped down and cupped my butt cheeks, and I looked up in surprise, and found his big pink lips close to mine. We kissed! We continued kissing, and soon his tongue was in my mouth and mine in his! I also felt a giant hardwood baton in my stomach. My crotch was much lower than his so he couldn't feel my own hard-on and I had also taken off my (sister's) sheer cashmere sweater and tied it around my waist. With the knot right over my crotch it concealed my hard-on poking at my skirt. And my bare arms in the sleeveless blouse now could reach around his thick neck.

We joked and he asked me if I could feel him, and I nodded,
said I could. I liked him and he liked me. He said after
a kiss I acted different from most babes, not so stuck up.
That was true! While I enjoyed the power and attention of
going from invisible nerd to hot babe I was also completely
submissive to big black studs. I would happily kneel down
and kiss his feet! But I think he also meant
I was not very femme!

He asked me, half jokingly, if it was true what they said
about St' Cat girls!

Looking at him sideways I asked him what he meant.

Well, still holding me, he half shrugged and said he could
borrow his buddy's van in the parking lot for a bit, and then
looked at me, worried a little if I was going to be offended.

"It's just that, they say St Cats girls are pleasers, not
teasers, like most babes that look like you!"

"Oh," I smiled, "thank you, I think. I don't think its
nice to tease boys, at least without pleasing them afterwards!"

Encouraged, he took my right hand and moved it downwards
to his throbbing lump and I carressed him, feeling his thick
erection, and then cupping his cum filled balls.

"Mmmmmm!" I sighed, smiling. He grinned and cupped each
buttock, but I put my finger on his lips before he could
kiss me again.

"But no fucking okay? I don't fuck on the first date and
this isn't even a date!"

He grinned and nodded as I slowly ran my pink tongue over
my lips. Of course it's not true I don't fuck on the first
date but he still thinks I'm a girl and I could pull the
'time of the month' bit and ask him to pump my butt until he filled
me with his hot cum but he might still find out the score and
I didn't need that kind of drama, with a big buck ten
times stronger than I was in the back of his friend's van.

We walked out, smiling, holding hands, and in the van I fended
off his efforts to unbutton my blouse, telling him I was just going
to please him, no more, and he didn't mind too much. Soon I was kneeling between his big legs and taking my time to worship the heavy cum-load out of those huge bull balls I knew was just waiting to fill my cheeks. I kissed his huge drooling cock, licked all over his balls, and slowly milked my lips up and down until we both were satisfied, and I could feel my own hard-on drooling cum under my as I was gulping and sighing and slurping and he was grunting and groaning.

"Awmannnn, that was good!"

Licking my lips, I said thank you! Then I said I had to get
going. We talked some more, he tried to get my number, but that was not possible, yet. And that was my first Friday night dance as Stacy! It was getting late and I could have sucked another big black cock or two but didn't know how to do that without him noticing me and thinking was a cheap slut I was. And then laughing as I realized he would be right anyway.

Anyway, 6 months later, I was doing better. Another Friday
night and I dropped into the downtown library again with a hard-on and a book bag.

I may be just legal age, but not old enough to drink, plus like
all HS kids I was broke anyway, but there was a club I could go to
even though I couldn't order alcohol there. The action there didn't start for a few hours, but I had plans for filling that time and my mouth.

Making sure nobody was around that might have seen me enter, I checked myself a last time in the mirror, my pants and shirt in my book bag with my books, and stepped out. I don't wear heels because they are uncomfortable and I like being shorter than the boys. My voice was high tenor anyway, it was just my masculine mannerisms that needed some work. I got into it a little bit walking the three blocks to the Boys Club, swishing a little, smiling at black bucks honking their horns at me. I probably should have stayed in the library and done my homework but I couldn't think about any of that now. I needed some quality time on my knees and my mentor had briefed me on all the best glory holes in the city for us 'girls'! The one he most wanted to get into he couldn't because he was too old and the staff would spot him right away, but I didn't even get a second look except for the fact I was white when I went into Martin Luther King's Boys Club on Roosevelt Blvd.

The kids were both younger and older than I was, but they all smiled at the white girl with the St Cat's skirt, and I blushed at their frank stares and that made them even more anxious, because this wasn't my first time here.

When teens need to hook up and are not legal to drink and
have no money anyway, we have to hit the public places, like schools, clubs, museums and libraries, or what I hated most, cars and vans. With a little money there was a movie theater, the Rialto, with a nice convenient dark balcony, but that was only after you found someone, you can't troll in the darkness with a movie playing over your head.

I hung around for a while, and even played some ping pong
with a brutha, made myself lose, and flirted with him a bit. A big
boy, younger than me but nice and horny, and one of the things about this scene at the Boys Club was how there wasn't any middle step between just talking and flirting and then my being on my knees with his dick in my mouth, because the next step to get better acquainted was for us to go to the bathrooms, me into the Girls room, him into his, and go to the last booth. He said his name was Jerome!

"You want to meet me back there?" he asked.

"All right," I smiled and that was that!

He left first, but there were eyes on me when I left a couple of minutes later, and after I finished with him there would be other studs ready to take his place. The back two stalls in the girls room were always being worked on when after some inspection they found the glory holes and covered or patched them. It would take a day or so before it was opened. One boy said the day staff disapproved but the mostly black night staff understood the necessity. I know I certainly did!

I joined a girl at the mirror, smiled and did my lipstick with a non smear while I got angry looks from a big black female that could scare a linebacker and I figured her for maybe 14 tops. That's the real danger in girls rooms for black boys, the ladies rooms. The “sistahs” all want to kill me and even without their razors and knives they all could take me with one hand. I smiled politely at her but she just ignored me and stomped off and I heard the word 'slut' clearly.

I took the last booth, and Jerome, the boy's name, was all ready and I had to laugh as I entered, locked it, and knelt on my
Book-bag so I wouldn't run my nylons.

"Hey, babe," he chuckled, but also a little nervous, "if any of the
girls get rough, you just call out, okay?"

comsmith · #3 11-17-2008, 05:08 AM

'Thank you, Jerome, but I'm fine!"

"And, I think maybe there are a couple of my friends who, well,
might come in, if you don't mind!"

"Um, no, that's okay, as long as you’re first!" That made him
laugh, and I was licking my lips at the huge glistening black cock
with the big almost purple knob already dripping pre-cum.

I’ve never even considered sticking my cock through a hole in
the wall and maybe have too much imagination, but he could, and I'm so glad he did.

As soon as I softly kissed the knob, he sighed and trembled, so I covered the knob, inflating my mouth, sighed myself, finally a big black dick in my mouth, nursed it a bit, and then, had to reach
down and arrange my own raging hard-on in my skirt and panties, before I went to work. Teen negroes don't last too long, and the hole isn't really big enough to lick their balls or tongue their butt holes which I love doing, but I slowly worshipped him until he gasped and stiffened, and I just covered the knob while he thrust in and out, and moaned as I got my first blast of hot negro sperm. I swallowed and gulped as he jetted his copious load in my worshipping mouth, and milked him dry. I was sweating when his knob popped free as he groaned. I could hear other boys laughing in there in anticipation now.

"Awmannn, maybe I see you outside, babe!"

"I'd like that, really!" and then, another insistent giant
drooling black cock pushed through as I licked my lips and shifted
on my knees and went to work again.

An hour and a half later I finally faced an empty hole, and
my back and knees ached, my jaw ached, my panties were drenched with pre-cum and my face was flushed. Then I noticed it wasn't pre-cum, I had actually sprayed cream without even being aware of it. My panties were absolutely soaked. Looked at the tick marks on the wall, I counted eleven, a new record! And then I looked at my watch, and that was a record too. I averaged almost twice as long per blow job. When I first started I was just a milk machine but I had learned to draw it out, make those balls swell, those cocks get even bigger, but had no way of objectively measuring the amount of sperm I was rewarded with except the multiple gulps and mouth fulls and the sweet full feeling in my tummy.

Going outside, the black staff member frowning at me because he was getting to recognize my scene now, probably a complaint from one of the black females who had used the rest room while listening to my sighing and licking and black boys groaning and grunting and complained of white suck-sluts using the facilities. I’ve been warned once before and wonder if I need to change my image a little. The boys loved it though and they might start breaking things if I got thrown out and the staff knew that too. It was a delicate balance.

Going outside on shaky legs after primping up a little,
I saw Jerome, and didn't say anything because I had my feelings
crushed once when after a scene the guy didn't want to acknowledge being with a glory hole suck-slut who just milked him and all his buddies. He pretended he didn't see me, and even prepared, I was hurt and blushed again. I had kept the last milky mouthful of sperm in my mouth for the emotional support but I was very willing to swallow if he wanted to talk to me, but I summoned up my remaining dignity and walked out.

Even so, as I looked at my watch, I was so proud of what I had
done. It was like having super powers to go with my secret identity. I had just relieved the sexual frustrations of almost a dozen big black teenagers, and felt fulfilled with their essences in my own system, nourishing me. How many white girls at the dance tonight would touch that accomplishment?

And it wasn't over by a long shot. I walked by a restaurant,
not being hungry any more, another benefit of being a suck-slut,
and went to the Club Noir, paid the cover charge which is the same price as the school dance price, went again to the ladies room and this time put on the "HESHE" medallion, which was a bright purple that clashed with my sweater, but was a signal to those who looked for those things.

No glory-holes here, but big black bucks to dance close with
and flirt with, and maybe get taken to a motel room where I could really worship the black man, and this time get pumped and violated and stuffed until he came into my body and I had a sympathy orgasm at the moment I feel his hot sperm jet into my butt.

Hopefully he could drive me home by 1 am but otherwise, I could change at the bus terminal rest room and wearily ride gingerly on the hard bus seat, hoping my butt plug kept his sperm in me as long as I could.

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