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  • — Out of the Closet —
    Bi-Sexual Male / 18

    Strictly speaking, I'm not gay. But because I am very feminine and have been since I was a toddler, everyone assumes that I am.

    I am also not a transgender female. But since I am so feminine and always have been, my mom assumed I was.

    When I was 10 years old I began an interest in cross dressing. I loved to luxuriate in soft silky girl's clothes and put on make-up and style my long hair. But I never really thought of myself as a girl transgender or otherwise. It thought of myself as a sissy faggot who also just happened to be very attached to her cock and balls, especially her balls and who also just happened to also adore girls both as friends and as potential future sex partners.

    When I was 12 my mom caught me in drag, make-up on, hair in pigtails, high heals and all her favorite garments. For a brief second she was pissed that I'd borrowed her things without asking. Then she was shocked that her son was in drag then she wasn't shocked and said she'd known all along I was either gay, transgender or somehow both. I tried to explain that I was none of the above and that I just liked to pretend I was a girl. So she took me to a psychiatrist who specialized in such things and he talked to me forever and on more than one occasion and then a few weeks later informed my mother that I was merely an effeminate bisexual cross dresser, which I'd already tried to tell her. So he would not sign off on declaring me officially a transgender female which would permit me to use the girls rest room and take gym with the girls and go to school dressed as a girl. Only there had been a resent law suit and so all the schools were terrified of being sued so when my mother asked if it was OK for me to attend school wearing the girl's uniform they bent over backward's to accommodate me. The school nurse and principal were in a meeting with my mom then they brought me in and asked me what my gender was. I blurted out, "sissy faggot." But that I was considering "shemale." Just saying that to both women made me tingle between the legs. They tried to correct me and coax me into admitting I was transgender female but I told them I would not presume to pretend to be an authentic female. I'd heard part of that phrase elsewhere earlier in the week and thought it sounded nifty when I said it. So they said that if I won't admit to being transgender female I can't use the lady's rest room or lady's locker room but I could take gym class with the girls. I could also come to school dressed in either the boy's uniform or girls. I could keep my hair long in any approved girl's hair style which included pigtails. So Mom bought me a full wardrobe of girls uniforms and some girl's gym clothes including a sports bra.

    So there I was in the 7th grade, the youngest grade in St. Patrick's Academy. Our progressive bishop had told the parochial schools to be sensitive to the needs of transgender children lest they be sued. So I wore the burgundy plaid pleated kilt style girl's skirt. Mom carefully read the regulations and hemmed my skirts up the shortest the school permitted with only an eighth of an inch to spare. I wore the short sleeved white blouse with the girl's version of the school patch over my heart. I wore the girl's burgundy knee socks trimmed with a ruffle at the top. I wore school approved girl's brown leather shoes. I had the burgundy and white girls gym uniform with white girls gym shoes. I had the girl's burgundy v-neck sweater and wore my long hair in pigtails held up by burgundy silk satin ribbons. My nails were done in regulation burgundy. No other color was permitted except natural. We could wear a subtle shade of lipstick on Friday's if over 14 but Mom gave me some and showed me how to use it and none of the nuns complained.

    The first time I used the boy's rest room in drag was deliciously humiliating. The boys all called me sissy or faggot and I corrected them by saying "that's MISS Sissy Faggot to you!" But the best part was when the absolute cutest 13 year old 8th grader in the entire school grabbed me at lunch and pulled me into the gym and forced me to give him a blow job while he verbally abused me. He came in my mouth thus deflowering it and that is when I fell in love with the flavor of sperm. I told no one and made myself available for the same fun the next day and frequently after that.

    Many of the nuns gave me dirty looks but were warned by the mother superior to be nice to me. One nun said I looked very pretty and will make some man a nice wife one day forgetting I had testicles. A testament to my mother's cosmetic skills.

    That was six years ago, I recently turned 18 and will be graduating this spring. I have played on some of the boy's sports teams. I'm particularly fond of baseball. I wear the boy's sports uniforms when playing but change into my girl's school uniform when the game is over. the only thing is I always wear my pigtails, long burgundy nails and lipstick on the mound. I'm a relief pitcher but I have won a few games for the team so nobody hassles me about my hair, nails and make-up except our opponents who stop laughing when I strike them out. The thing is my favorite part of going in drag is when the girls ridicule my total lack of masculinity and when the boys demand blow jobs and the best, the very best, are those few times when I get to be viciously ridiculed by my female classmates WHILE they watch me suck a male classmate's cock.

    #43383 — Comments (0) — Feb 15, 2019 at 4:39 AM — That's Juicy! (5) Remove It.

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