How I Went from Jock to Cock-Hungry Sissy Bitch….
Hey bitches, it’s your favorite big-dicked sissy queen O’Shea! Buckle up, because mama’s about to throw you back and show you how I went from star athlete to full-time slutty mistress of the cock.
Growing up, I always knew I was a little different. While the other boys were playing with action figures and getting off to Penthouse, I was sneaking into my mommy’s lingerie drawer and rubbing her satin teddies on my little boy clit. Mmmm, there was something about those silky fabrics against my skin that just felt right. I’d stuff a pair of lacy panties in my backpack and wear them under my football pants, my own secret as I ran the field. The coaches thought I was just the star quarterback, but really I was their little panty-sniffing, jock-strap wearing sissy.
High school was a real trip. I had it all – the hot cheerleader girlfriend, the letterman jacket, the athletic scholarship. But underneath the macho facade, I was a dick-drunk slut praying for a real cock to call my own. That girlfriend, bless her heart, she never knew I was cramming my face in her brother’s lap every time he came over to watch the game. I’d choke on that boy meat, making myself gag as I tongued his sweaty, stinky nuts. Lord I loved me some cazzo!
But I still had to play the role. We got married young, like those crazy Southerners do. She thought I was straight as an arrow, just her all-American hubby. Meanwhile, I was gagging for cock on the down low. I lived a double life, sneaking to the gay bar on Fridays to get my throat wrecked by a hung daddy. My favorite fantasy was him bending me over the bar and fucking my boycunt in front of everyone. I wanted the whole world to see me for what I was – a hungry, desperate sissy.
Well when you’re a slut, you attract other sluts. My best man, a tall piece of beef I’d Imported up from Tampa, he cornered me at the reception. Next thing I know, he’s got his cock out and I’m slurping it like a Slutty Sno-Cone in July. I swear, his dick was so good I almost forgot my own wedding! He fucked me so hard, I had to fake it through the reception. That was the night I knew I’d never be satisfied as a “straight” man.
A year later, I tried drag for the first time. I picked a name, O’Shea, and dusted off those old panties from high school. We got dolled up at Hamburger Mary’s and I was shaking like a leaf, but lordy did I want that stage. I grabbed the mic and soon the whole bar was howling for me! I twerked and I pranced, worked that wig, and served face like it was my job. Afterwards, I met a married daddy who wanted to show me his love. That was my first taste of the cock I craved. He cunt-slammed my boycunt so deep I thought I was being born again.
Now I’ve been doing drag full-time for five years, and honey I am living my best life. I got my own following, my regular tricks, my lingerie collection is bigger than Mama’s now. My favorite kink? I love a virginal straight boy. Bring me that corn-fed, wife-beating, beer-swilling good ol’ boy, the one who’s “never been with another man.” Watching him submit, seeing him sell his soul for a taste of tranny dick, ooooh it’s better than any pair of panties.
My last pegging client was so fun. He squirmed and begged, made me promise not to tell his buddies. I spit in his face and called him a faggot, said I was the only one who could satisfy his secret craving. He ate my ass like a baby at a tits buffet and then I wrecked him with my biggest dildo. Now he’s my little cock-slut, barking every night for me to Sit on his face. I love a bitch who knows her place!
Now y’all know my story. I’m not just a queen, I’m a cash cow for horny straight boys. I’m a mistress, an owner of men. I’m a sissy slut who knows what I want and isn’t afraid to get it. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this little trip into my kinky world. Remember, if a queen can live her truth, so can you. Never be afraid to get a bit silly, and never be afraid to be you!
XOXO, O’Shea
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