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Making of a Queen
By
Dave
Where do I begin to tell my story? I guess it started
with my mother. She had been a rather attractive woman.
She married young and when her husband was away at
work she started drinking after I was born.
They gave me an Irish name of Patrick in honor of my
father's dad. For a short time I guess everything was fairly
normal. Then she started finding ways to let neighbors
baby-sit for me so she could hang out in bars for company
while she got drunk.
Something happened when I was born and they had to
remove her womb and ovaries. That meant that she needed
injections of estrogen and additional female hormones.
This led to fights between my mom and dad until he
could not take it anymore and filed for divorce from her.
The State of Virginia is one of those States that still thinks
that a child belongs with the mother no matter what the
mother is like. It is almost impossible to prove that a woman
is unfit. So I was given to her with a generous child support
from my father. It was put in a trust for my expenses.
Mom got herself appointed executor of my estate and
spent everything as fast as it came in. She was dragging him
to court to claim he missed payments or she needed more
money all the time. He finally left the State and stopped
making payments at all.
She drank all the money away and failed to keep up
payments on anything until she lost everything we owned.
We had to move to a cheep waterfront flophouse. I grew up
with the smell of diesel oil, rotting fish. My clothes were
rarely washed and my haircut. When I was old enough to go
to school I seldom attended because washing clothes cost
money that was spent on gin.
She got so bad that she was hanging out in
longshoremen's bars and listing to them telling her how
beautiful she was. She was living in a delusional world. She
had gotten fat; her teeth had gone bad, her hair looked like a
cheap mop.
She would bring these guys home with her. I would be
trying to pretend I was asleep on the lumpy smelly old
couch. They would make so much noise stumbling in that
they would have raised the dead even if they were not talking
like they were standing behind a 747 jet aircraft.
They would stumble into the bedroom and I could
hear everything going on the other room through the paper-
thin walls. They would be saying all kinds of romantic
things to each other. The cheep old military cot made a lot
of noise as they moved around on the bed. It did not take
much imagination to picture what was going on. They would
both make a running commentary about what was going on.
I got a graphic education about what a blow-job sounded
like or what it sounded like for a woman to get her cunt ate.
Then it would end with them fucking her either in the cunt
or asshole.
It got so she was passing out even before the blowjobs
were over. The men would some times fuck her anyway.
Then some of them would come out and sit on my couch and
shake me to wake me up. They would talk about how she
should have at least stayed awake long enough for them to
get off.
Then they would tell me what a nice looking boy I was.
They would stroke my long hair that I keep in a ponytail
because we could not afford to get a haircut. Then they
would stroke my penis for awhile. Then they would take my
hand and wrap it around their cocks and have me stoke
them until they would shoot cum either on me or on the
floor.
As time passed they got bolder and would start
making me give them a blowjob. Then they started probing
my anus with their fingers. It was not long before they bent
me over the arm of the couch or lifted my legs when I was on
my back and fit their penis into my anus and fuck me. It
happened enough that I began to enjoy the feeling of a dick
in my asshole. I was even having dry climaxes from the act.
Eventually she shacked up with this big hairy
longshoreman. His big hands felt like they were sandpaper.
He moved in and spent a little money on us at first.
When she would pass out he would come in and visit
me just like all the other guys. He would feel me up. And
have me give him a hand job. He would have me undress
and walk around the room.
One day he brought home all the things a girl would
wear. He had me undress and put on the clothes he brought
home. When I stared to pull up the little floral panties he
stopped me and said the Patricia would never have a bulge
in her panties.
He reached between my legs and took hold of my penis
and pulled it down and then pulled it up between the cheeks
of my ass. This stuffed my scrotum back under my dick.
When I was allowed to pull the panties up the front of the
panties dipped in like I had a crack there.
He had me turn around and felt my ass. The penis
was hidden between my buns. Then I put on the slip and
then put on the frilly dress that was appropriate for a girl of
the age of eight years old. I should point out that I never
seemed to catch up with boys my age growing up. Even now
I am only five-foot four-inches tall.
Then he took my hair down and brushed it out with a
slight flip. I thought I looked like Steven Seagal but right
now I looked more like a young Jean Simmons. Then he
took me in his arms and sat me on his lap and he began to
feel me up just like I was a girl.
He unbuttoned my blouse and felt my breasts. He was
kissing me on the mouth and his coarse beard chaffed my
young cheeks. I felt his hand rest on my bare knee and feel
its way up to my panties. He felt me like a girl. Then he
reached between my legs and pulled my penis out and
stroked it until I had a dry orgasm.
This was all a prelude to him laying me on the couch
and pulling my panties off and putting my legs over his
shoulders. He aimed his big penis at the opening to my ass.
I had been fucked by many of her boyfriends before but this
was not normal. A farmer could win a blue ribbon with a
cucumber this big. It hurt me terribly as it forced its way
past my sphincter muscle. As I cried and whimpered I felt
the shaft of his cock slide deeply into my anus. He fucked
me until he had a climax that filled my rectum with his cum.
When he pulled out of my ass I felt something warm
leaking out of my ass. I reached between my legs and wiped
myself with my fingers. When I looked at my fingers had his
cum on them and a thin trace of blood. I knew that my anus
had been stretched until the skin had split.
He went to the bathroom and returned with a cream
that he applied to my sore bottom. He told me that after a
few times that I would learn to love the feeling of his sausage
in my butt.
I dreaded what would happen every time Mom would
pass out. He would call out, "Where is my Patricia girl?" I
would simply change my clothes rather than have him do it.
He was right about my ability to take his cock. After awhile
I actually looked forward to the feeling it would bring me.
He stared giving me pills that he said would make me
feel more like a girl. I learned later that he was giving me
Mom's hormones. Over the next couple of years she got a
mustache above her lip and the hair between her legs got
thicker and a few strands of hair would appear on her chin
and between her breasts.
I started developing breasts. My hips got broader, my
waist got narrower. My skin got softer. By the time I was
entering puberty at 12-years old my breasts were more than
a B-cup.
Mom developed liver damaged from drinking. She
died before I was thirteen years old. Over the years the
courts had lost track of her and me.
My so-called stepfather moved me to his bed and I
sucked him or he fucked me whenever he wanted. He found
a friend that he would take me to every month for injections.
By the time I was fifteen years old my breasts were a nice C-
cup.
Like a lot of drunkard longshoremen he got in a fight
on the docks with knives. He was gutted and died a painful
death as he bled to death.
That put me on the streets alone to find for myself. All
I knew how to do was sell my body. I started selling myself
on the streets. The pimps wanted me to work for them. I
didn't want that so I had to find a way to work without them
knowing about it.
I went to that guy that gave me the shots and he set me
up with a sugar daddy after I sucked him and he fucked me
a few times. Finally a black limousine picked me up outside
the pharmacist's back door.
I was driven to a very nice part of town. The gated
community had large number of old federal cotton empire
mansions. The red brick driveway was made into a
herringbone pattern.
We drove right through the breezeway to the back of
the house. The driver got out and opened the door for me.
When I got out I saw a black maid standing at the back
door. She said welcome to Grace Mansion my dear.
She led me right to an old library with old dark
wooden paneling and the walls were covered with books.
The furniture was red leather and the carpets were the color
of a green pool table top. Behind very heavily carved leather
topped desk sat an old man.
He told me, "Have a seat my dear. My name is
Johnathin Wright I am the last of five generations of
Wright's to own this place.
Now my child, I understand that you are an orphan
now and in need to a place to call your home. Let me take
you up stairs and show you the room I have for you. Then
we can bath you and find you something much nicer to put
on before dinner"
I followed him up stairs and down a wide hall to a
bedroom near the one at the end of the hall. I was very
impressed. It was larger than the whole apartment I had
been living in for the past few years.
The room was painted a mauve color with gold vein
like streaks running from floor to ceiling. The room was
filled with white pickled furniture that all looked very girlish
and expensive. This was a very lucky girl's room.
John led me into the bathroom and I couldn't believe
it. The room was large and all white marble. The vanity
had two sinks that were recessed with brass-legged chairs in
front of them. There were two toilets against the opposite
wall. They were matched except one did not have a toilet
seat on it. When I flushed it water came jetting up from the
brass tube in the middle of the bowl. I learned that it was
called a bidet and was for washing the crotch of someone
after the used the toilet.
The shower was very large with marble benches in it.
The tub was next to that and was a sunken tub that had a
window that over looked the back yard. It was large enough
for two or three people and the brass fixtures allowed water
to cascade over a foot wide brass waterfall into the tub.
John helped me undress and put the clothes by the
door. He walked around me several times admiring my
body. If it were not for the five-inch dick and scrotum
between my legs I looked like a very girl with dark hair of
fifteen or sixteen.
He felt my breasts and pinched my nipples. The he felt
my ass and opened my cheeks to look at my asshole. He
inserted a couple of fingers and all I did was pushing my
butt back wanting more. Then he took hold of my penis and
stroked it very gently. I could still get an erection from the
touch of another person's hand.
He joined me in the bath and washed me. When he
was finished he called for the maid. The black maid came in
and had a couple of large towels with her.
She commented, "Mister John, she is a sweet one isn't
she. " They agreed on that much as the dried him and me.
When my hair was about dry the maid use scissors and gave
me a hair trim and used a blow dryer to style my hair into a
very contemporary stile and lightened up some streaks in my
hair. When she was done she was excused.
John led me to the bed and told me that this was my
room if I didn't want to sleep in his bed. I kissed his face
and he held my head between his hands and kissed me. We
went to bed and we kissed for hours then he sucked my
breasts until the nipples were sore. Then he put me on my
hands and knees. He fit his penis in my anus as he reached
around my hip and wrapped his hand around my penis. He
stroked my dick with the same pace that his hips as he
fucked me.
I lived with him for about four years and he saw to it
that I was educated and taught how to be a lady. When he
passed away the maid joined me as I learned the business of
being a transvestite exotic dancer. In short order I became a
well-known headliner that performed all over the country.
My staff saw to it that I was not disturbed.
I did not wear wigs. It was my own hair that my maid
took care of to this day. It was great fun to perform because
I learned to sing in a number off styles. The biggest thrill
was to watch the audience debate if I was really a woman or
not. I always looked for the biggest doubting Thomas and
end my show in front of him or her. Then I pull my G-string
off and pull my dick and scrotum from between my butt
cheeks and wave it in front of them. I ask, "Would you like
to taste it to make sure it was real.
By
Dave
Where do I begin to tell my story? I guess it started
with my mother. She had been a rather attractive woman.
She married young and when her husband was away at
work she started drinking after I was born.
They gave me an Irish name of Patrick in honor of my
father's dad. For a short time I guess everything was fairly
normal. Then she started finding ways to let neighbors
baby-sit for me so she could hang out in bars for company
while she got drunk.
Something happened when I was born and they had to
remove her womb and ovaries. That meant that she needed
injections of estrogen and additional female hormones.
This led to fights between my mom and dad until he
could not take it anymore and filed for divorce from her.
The State of Virginia is one of those States that still thinks
that a child belongs with the mother no matter what the
mother is like. It is almost impossible to prove that a woman
is unfit. So I was given to her with a generous child support
from my father. It was put in a trust for my expenses.
Mom got herself appointed executor of my estate and
spent everything as fast as it came in. She was dragging him
to court to claim he missed payments or she needed more
money all the time. He finally left the State and stopped
making payments at all.
She drank all the money away and failed to keep up
payments on anything until she lost everything we owned.
We had to move to a cheep waterfront flophouse. I grew up
with the smell of diesel oil, rotting fish. My clothes were
rarely washed and my haircut. When I was old enough to go
to school I seldom attended because washing clothes cost
money that was spent on gin.
She got so bad that she was hanging out in
longshoremen's bars and listing to them telling her how
beautiful she was. She was living in a delusional world. She
had gotten fat; her teeth had gone bad, her hair looked like a
cheap mop.
She would bring these guys home with her. I would be
trying to pretend I was asleep on the lumpy smelly old
couch. They would make so much noise stumbling in that
they would have raised the dead even if they were not talking
like they were standing behind a 747 jet aircraft.
They would stumble into the bedroom and I could
hear everything going on the other room through the paper-
thin walls. They would be saying all kinds of romantic
things to each other. The cheep old military cot made a lot
of noise as they moved around on the bed. It did not take
much imagination to picture what was going on. They would
both make a running commentary about what was going on.
I got a graphic education about what a blow-job sounded
like or what it sounded like for a woman to get her cunt ate.
Then it would end with them fucking her either in the cunt
or asshole.
It got so she was passing out even before the blowjobs
were over. The men would some times fuck her anyway.
Then some of them would come out and sit on my couch and
shake me to wake me up. They would talk about how she
should have at least stayed awake long enough for them to
get off.
Then they would tell me what a nice looking boy I was.
They would stroke my long hair that I keep in a ponytail
because we could not afford to get a haircut. Then they
would stroke my penis for awhile. Then they would take my
hand and wrap it around their cocks and have me stoke
them until they would shoot cum either on me or on the
floor.
As time passed they got bolder and would start
making me give them a blowjob. Then they started probing
my anus with their fingers. It was not long before they bent
me over the arm of the couch or lifted my legs when I was on
my back and fit their penis into my anus and fuck me. It
happened enough that I began to enjoy the feeling of a dick
in my asshole. I was even having dry climaxes from the act.
Eventually she shacked up with this big hairy
longshoreman. His big hands felt like they were sandpaper.
He moved in and spent a little money on us at first.
When she would pass out he would come in and visit
me just like all the other guys. He would feel me up. And
have me give him a hand job. He would have me undress
and walk around the room.
One day he brought home all the things a girl would
wear. He had me undress and put on the clothes he brought
home. When I stared to pull up the little floral panties he
stopped me and said the Patricia would never have a bulge
in her panties.
He reached between my legs and took hold of my penis
and pulled it down and then pulled it up between the cheeks
of my ass. This stuffed my scrotum back under my dick.
When I was allowed to pull the panties up the front of the
panties dipped in like I had a crack there.
He had me turn around and felt my ass. The penis
was hidden between my buns. Then I put on the slip and
then put on the frilly dress that was appropriate for a girl of
the age of eight years old. I should point out that I never
seemed to catch up with boys my age growing up. Even now
I am only five-foot four-inches tall.
Then he took my hair down and brushed it out with a
slight flip. I thought I looked like Steven Seagal but right
now I looked more like a young Jean Simmons. Then he
took me in his arms and sat me on his lap and he began to
feel me up just like I was a girl.
He unbuttoned my blouse and felt my breasts. He was
kissing me on the mouth and his coarse beard chaffed my
young cheeks. I felt his hand rest on my bare knee and feel
its way up to my panties. He felt me like a girl. Then he
reached between my legs and pulled my penis out and
stroked it until I had a dry orgasm.
This was all a prelude to him laying me on the couch
and pulling my panties off and putting my legs over his
shoulders. He aimed his big penis at the opening to my ass.
I had been fucked by many of her boyfriends before but this
was not normal. A farmer could win a blue ribbon with a
cucumber this big. It hurt me terribly as it forced its way
past my sphincter muscle. As I cried and whimpered I felt
the shaft of his cock slide deeply into my anus. He fucked
me until he had a climax that filled my rectum with his cum.
When he pulled out of my ass I felt something warm
leaking out of my ass. I reached between my legs and wiped
myself with my fingers. When I looked at my fingers had his
cum on them and a thin trace of blood. I knew that my anus
had been stretched until the skin had split.
He went to the bathroom and returned with a cream
that he applied to my sore bottom. He told me that after a
few times that I would learn to love the feeling of his sausage
in my butt.
I dreaded what would happen every time Mom would
pass out. He would call out, "Where is my Patricia girl?" I
would simply change my clothes rather than have him do it.
He was right about my ability to take his cock. After awhile
I actually looked forward to the feeling it would bring me.
He stared giving me pills that he said would make me
feel more like a girl. I learned later that he was giving me
Mom's hormones. Over the next couple of years she got a
mustache above her lip and the hair between her legs got
thicker and a few strands of hair would appear on her chin
and between her breasts.
I started developing breasts. My hips got broader, my
waist got narrower. My skin got softer. By the time I was
entering puberty at 12-years old my breasts were more than
a B-cup.
Mom developed liver damaged from drinking. She
died before I was thirteen years old. Over the years the
courts had lost track of her and me.
My so-called stepfather moved me to his bed and I
sucked him or he fucked me whenever he wanted. He found
a friend that he would take me to every month for injections.
By the time I was fifteen years old my breasts were a nice C-
cup.
Like a lot of drunkard longshoremen he got in a fight
on the docks with knives. He was gutted and died a painful
death as he bled to death.
That put me on the streets alone to find for myself. All
I knew how to do was sell my body. I started selling myself
on the streets. The pimps wanted me to work for them. I
didn't want that so I had to find a way to work without them
knowing about it.
I went to that guy that gave me the shots and he set me
up with a sugar daddy after I sucked him and he fucked me
a few times. Finally a black limousine picked me up outside
the pharmacist's back door.
I was driven to a very nice part of town. The gated
community had large number of old federal cotton empire
mansions. The red brick driveway was made into a
herringbone pattern.
We drove right through the breezeway to the back of
the house. The driver got out and opened the door for me.
When I got out I saw a black maid standing at the back
door. She said welcome to Grace Mansion my dear.
She led me right to an old library with old dark
wooden paneling and the walls were covered with books.
The furniture was red leather and the carpets were the color
of a green pool table top. Behind very heavily carved leather
topped desk sat an old man.
He told me, "Have a seat my dear. My name is
Johnathin Wright I am the last of five generations of
Wright's to own this place.
Now my child, I understand that you are an orphan
now and in need to a place to call your home. Let me take
you up stairs and show you the room I have for you. Then
we can bath you and find you something much nicer to put
on before dinner"
I followed him up stairs and down a wide hall to a
bedroom near the one at the end of the hall. I was very
impressed. It was larger than the whole apartment I had
been living in for the past few years.
The room was painted a mauve color with gold vein
like streaks running from floor to ceiling. The room was
filled with white pickled furniture that all looked very girlish
and expensive. This was a very lucky girl's room.
John led me into the bathroom and I couldn't believe
it. The room was large and all white marble. The vanity
had two sinks that were recessed with brass-legged chairs in
front of them. There were two toilets against the opposite
wall. They were matched except one did not have a toilet
seat on it. When I flushed it water came jetting up from the
brass tube in the middle of the bowl. I learned that it was
called a bidet and was for washing the crotch of someone
after the used the toilet.
The shower was very large with marble benches in it.
The tub was next to that and was a sunken tub that had a
window that over looked the back yard. It was large enough
for two or three people and the brass fixtures allowed water
to cascade over a foot wide brass waterfall into the tub.
John helped me undress and put the clothes by the
door. He walked around me several times admiring my
body. If it were not for the five-inch dick and scrotum
between my legs I looked like a very girl with dark hair of
fifteen or sixteen.
He felt my breasts and pinched my nipples. The he felt
my ass and opened my cheeks to look at my asshole. He
inserted a couple of fingers and all I did was pushing my
butt back wanting more. Then he took hold of my penis and
stroked it very gently. I could still get an erection from the
touch of another person's hand.
He joined me in the bath and washed me. When he
was finished he called for the maid. The black maid came in
and had a couple of large towels with her.
She commented, "Mister John, she is a sweet one isn't
she. " They agreed on that much as the dried him and me.
When my hair was about dry the maid use scissors and gave
me a hair trim and used a blow dryer to style my hair into a
very contemporary stile and lightened up some streaks in my
hair. When she was done she was excused.
John led me to the bed and told me that this was my
room if I didn't want to sleep in his bed. I kissed his face
and he held my head between his hands and kissed me. We
went to bed and we kissed for hours then he sucked my
breasts until the nipples were sore. Then he put me on my
hands and knees. He fit his penis in my anus as he reached
around my hip and wrapped his hand around my penis. He
stroked my dick with the same pace that his hips as he
fucked me.
I lived with him for about four years and he saw to it
that I was educated and taught how to be a lady. When he
passed away the maid joined me as I learned the business of
being a transvestite exotic dancer. In short order I became a
well-known headliner that performed all over the country.
My staff saw to it that I was not disturbed.
I did not wear wigs. It was my own hair that my maid
took care of to this day. It was great fun to perform because
I learned to sing in a number off styles. The biggest thrill
was to watch the audience debate if I was really a woman or
not. I always looked for the biggest doubting Thomas and
end my show in front of him or her. Then I pull my G-string
off and pull my dick and scrotum from between my butt
cheeks and wave it in front of them. I ask, "Would you like
to taste it to make sure it was real.
