A Moment of Doubt

Sometimes I start to think that I’m not really a sissy at all.

“I’m a man!” I tell myself. I insist that it’s true, as if to convince myself.

This typically happens right after I’ve dribbled my pitiful goo out of my tiny boi clit.

My mind starts rationalizing. “I don’t want to suck dick. Seriously, how bad would my life be if I had to spend hours shaving my whole body and putting on makeup and getting all dressed up...just so that I could drop to my knees and blow some strange guy who doesn’t even know my name? And think of the money I would waste on women’s clothing and heels and a wig and cosmetics! It’s just not worth it! I could end up with some awful STD! Seriously? I’m sitting here fantasizing about all this??? What the hell is wrong with me??”

Then, an even more terrifying thought occurs to me. “What if I got caught? What if my father knew that his son was actually just a cocksucker who couldn’t wait for the next dude to blow his load all over his face? Friends. Family. Coworkers. What if I got caught and then rumors started to spread like wildfire...as they always do.

”No, no, no. This is all just some weird fetish. It’s a fantasy that I’d never actually act on. Sure, sitting in front of the computer with a few toys I can pretend that this is what I truly desire. But think about what it would ACTUALLY be like to live that lifestyle. The thought alone is enough scare me straight. Besides, I’m a man! And men don’t daydream about dressing like sluts and getting fucked in the ass all day.”




”.....but I do. I really do sometimes. When I haven’t used one of my toys in awhile, I get that sissy itch. I bet real men don’t have that itch. But I do. And what about that one time in college when I touched a friend’s dick. Stroked it a little even. I always said it was because I was drunk. But was it? His cock was magnificent after all. Maybe I secretly just wanted to touch it and I used alcohol as the excuse. And what about the thousands of hours of sissy porn I’ve watched? Is that all just an accident too? I’ve spent weekend nights wearing lipstick and eyeliner, a dildo jammed down my throat and a butt plug up my ass. Is that something real men do? I should have been out chasing girls, trying to get laid, watching the game at a bar. But not me. I was on my knees making fake love to a rubber dick. How pathetic!”

“But I’m not attracted to men. So I can’t be gay, right? This is just some weird fetish...” I try desperately to cling to this thought. But eventually I break down.

“What do you call someone that fantasizes about licking a man’s hairy ballsack? What do you call someone who gags on a dildo, wishing it were real? What do you call someone who wiggles down onto a fat buttplug to satisfy her needs? What do you call someone who savors the flavor of cum, even if they only have their own to practice with? What do you call someone who comes to a site like this, makes a profile like SissyMelissa57, and then writes a post like this one? You call them a sissy. And that’s just what I am. Not a man. Not even a gay guy, seeking equal love and attention from a partner. Just a useless, sissy fuckslut. A cocksucker. A bitch. A loser.”

”And I need a real man to teach me. To take control. To force me down on his cock and make me please him the way he deserves. To lock me up in chastity and make me do humiliating things for release. To train me how to take a dick in the ass and moan with pleasure as I push back on it. To make me spend hours in front of the mirror, making myself his beautiful mistress. To spend more hours licking the cum off of his nuts after he blows a load. To make me admit to friends and family and coworkers that this is truly who I am - who I want to be.”

”But most of all, to make me realize that I am a sissy. And that I always will be. Even if I have moments of doubt where I still try to convince myself I’m a real man. Nothing that a forceful master and his delicious cock couldn’t fix. I hope he finds me soon, this dildo is starting to get old.”