Message-ID: <40471asstr$1042719003@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: Mime-Version: 1.0 X-Original-Message-ID: From: J R D X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Wed, 15 Jan 2003 22:12:05 -0900 Subject: {ASSM} My top ten (tg) #10 Date: Thu, 16 Jan 2003 07:10:03 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, IceAltar To all my fans: I've been really busy with my latest story, not realizing how large it was going to turn out to be. I have gotten some interest as to what I've been doing, so I wanted to explain, and also repost some of my stories (mostly because I'm a bit of an attention hog :) ). I originally considered reposting in all of my stories, but decided that to do that would take too much time away from the writing I was doing (over 80 stories written and still going strong!). Instead, I looked through my stories and decided on my personal top-10. Unless something comes up, I'll repost one a day for the next 10 days. Comments (like guesses on what you think my top 10 are or your own personal top-10 out of my stories) gladly welcomed. So here is my number ten favorite story: The Mistake ************ ------------------------- DISCLAIMERS ------------------------- This story contains scenes of an erotic and/or controversial nature, and is not intended for the perusal of minors. Further if perusal of such material is considered illegal in your area or immoral by your religion or personal beliefs, you should likewise bypass this story. This story remains the property of the author. Permission is granted to download, photocopy, copy and repost so long as any such action contains these disclaimers, and no attempt is made to profit from this story. All characters in this story are the creation of the author, and any resemblance to real persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. This story may contain aspects of fantastic science or magic. The parameters of what this science/magic can accomplish are completely at the discretion of me, the author, and, as such, I make no apologies for any rules of "real" physics, chemistry, biology, or magic that may be broken within the story. ------------------------- Now onto the fun stuff ------------------------- THE MISTAKE Tim, in his femme alter ego of Tamara, knocked on the stage door of an old theater. He wasn't sure what was going to happen inside, but his best friend, Lydia, had told him to come here tonight, in drag, and he wouldn't be disappointed. She wouldn't explain more, but Tim trusted her, so he had gotten dressed in his sexiest lingerie, his best red dress, shoulder-length blonde wig, 3" heels, and stockings, and come over. A small square opened on the center of the door and he heard a woman ask, "May I help you?" "Yes, I'm Tamara. Lydia sent me." The woman's voice almost immediately took on a hard edge. "Ah, yes. Come in," and with a very snide tone, she added, "little girl." As the door opened, Tim sighed. Lydia had probably told her about his cross-dressing, thinking she was someone to be trusted. But Tim had had to deal with a lot of prejudice about his cross-dressing, both from men and women, and had learned to tolerate the crap. He could tell already that he was going to get more than his fair share from this woman before the night was over. Part of him felt that he should turn around and walk away, but he had told Lydia he would come, so he walked through the door and followed the woman down a short hall to a small dressing room. He saw racks of clothes, all of it sexy lingerie, off to one side. The woman stepped over to a desk, and without turning around, said, "Okay, sissy boy, strip." Tim was stunned. "Excuse me?" "You heard me. Strip down to your lingerie. If it's any good, we'll send you out in it. Otherwise we'll dress you in something more appropriate." "For...?" "For your auction. We're going to auction you off to the highest male bidder, where he'll take you home for an evening of sexual slavery." Tim was shocked. "Does Lydia know about this?" The woman laughed. "Of course she does. She's the one who found us." Tim frowned. Lydia was wrong. He wasn't just disappointed. He was maddeningly disappointed. "I think I better go." Tim turned around and saw two giant men waiting by the door to the room. He heard the woman snap her fingers, and the two men stepped forward. She said, "We can do this easy or we can do this hard, sissy boy, but we are going to do this." Tim turned back, and with a grim look in his eye, said, "Let me guess. Either I strip to my lingerie or Heckle and Jekyll rip my clothes off?" "That's a bright sissy. Now strip!" Tim just stood there and stared at her. Finally she nodded her head to the men and said, "Boys." They stepped forward and grabbed Tim, but as soon as they put their hands on his arms, he stepped back and jammed his elbows into their abdomens. The woman had expected them to take it with a grunt as they had every other time someone had hit them in their guts, but was surprised when they dropped to the ground, gasping. "Quick shots to the solar plexus. Doesn't matter how big you are, it'll drop you like a stone." Then Tim grinned. "Didn't Lydia tell you I was a fourth degree black belt? I've also taken the time to practice in high heels to make sure I didn't destroy my ankles in case I was ever in heels while doing it." The woman reached back and grabbed a whip off the table and snapped it at Tim. But he neatly sidestepped, stepped in, grabbed her wrist and the whip, then, before she knew what was going on, wrapped the whip around her throat. He held the whip tightly enough that she had trouble breathing but not tight enough to cut off all her air. She felt his hands on the buttons of her blouse and tried to deflect them, but then he delivered a quick rap to her abdomen, painful, but not debilitating. He said, "Oh, stop it, you know you want this." Gasping, she asked, "Why would I want this?" "You assumed I did." "But... you're a..." "Sissy? And why am I a sissy?" "Well... look at you." "Oh, so because I dress up as a woman, that makes me a sissy?" "Well... yes." "And the more woman I choose to be, the more sissy I am?" "Yes." "Well, there you go. If it's true that the more woman I am, the more sissy I am, then if I were all woman I'd be all sissy. And you're all woman, so that makes you all sissy." She tried to protest, but he pulled the whip tight. "Shut up. I don't want to hear it. The belief that a man who chooses to dress like a woman is inferior comes from the stupid belief that woman are intrinsically inferior to men, so if a man chooses to emulate a woman, he must be intrinsically inferior. And I'm sick of people like you." Tim grabbed her blouse and ripped it off of her. He unsnapped her pants and dragged her to the door leading to the stage; her pants dropping around her ankles as she went. As he opened the door, he said, "Think of this as a lesson in respecting your male sisters," and threw her through the door, quickly closing it and locking it behind her. As he walked to the door, he felt one of the thugs grab his ankle and quickly side kicked his face, leaving him grasping his now bloody nose. Tim stormed out to his car, wondering what the hell Lydia was thinking. The next day, Tim had just gotten back to his apartment from work when he heard a knock on the door. He went over, opened it part way, but when he saw it was Lydia, tried to quickly shut it. Lydia jammed her arm against the door and said, "Tim, please!" He didn't force the door closed, but glowered at her. "You've got a lot of nerve showing up here after what you put me through last night. I trusted you with knowledge of my cross-dressing, and you sold me out to... whoever those people were." "Please, Tim, I thought you'd like it." "Like it!?" Tim almost screamed before he dropped his voice to a more normal tone. "That woman threatened to parade me around in my underwear before a bunch of slobbering, fetishist sadists, then sell me off like cattle. What the hell makes you think I'd tolerate that, much less WANTED it?" "Because of your... hobby." "My transvestitism, you mean?" Lydia nodded. Tim shook his head and said, "Just go away. I don't want to see you anymore." She wouldn't let the door shut. "Please, Tim, can't we talk about this?" "Tell you what. You find a textbook, a dictionary, a medical text, anything, that defines a transvestite as a sissified, masochistic homosexual and I'll consider talking. Until then," he reached through the door and pushed Lydia away, "GO AWAY!" and then slammed the door shut. A couple hours later, when he was in full drag (he usually spent a couple hours out of each day en femme) and heard a knock on the door. This time he checked the peephole first. Seeing that it was a delivery man with a bunch of flowers. Wondering if this guy might be a fake (Tim had heard stories about people like last night), he put the chain on and opened the door. "Yes?" "I've got a delivery for a miss Tamara Lewis." "Wait a minute." Tim went and got a ten out of his wallet for a tip, then came back and opened the door. He handed the man the money and took the flowers, two dozen red roses. The delivery man gave him a quick, "Thank you, ma'am," and left. Tim took the flowers inside and checked the card first before even smelling them. It read, "Tamara, I didn't find what you asked for, but I do beg for forgiveness and ask for a chance to talk. Lydia" Tim got a weak smile and took a deep whiff of the roses. At least Lydia knew what he liked in flowers. Tim then heard some light taps on his balcony window. Looking over, he saw a small bunch of pebbles fly up and bounce off the glass door. He opened the door and stepped out, not surprised at seeing Lydia on the ground, ready with another handful of pebbles. As soon as Lydia saw him, she called out, "Tamara, please. I was wrong. I made assumptions about you which were totally inappropriate. Can't we please talk?" Tim, since having vented earlier, was feeling a little more forgiving. He leaned on the railing, stretched out his hand and curled his finger at her in a come hither gesture. Lydia sprinted towards the door at a dead run. Only a few seconds later, Tim heard the doorbell ring. He checked the peephole and saw that it was Lydia, fidgeting nervously. He opened the door and said, "Come on in." Lydia quickly stepped through the door, as if afraid that he might close it before she could step in. As soon as she stepped in, and Tim had closed the door, she said, "Tamara,... Tim, I am so sorry. I made assumptions about your life that were totally... wrong. I just wanted you to be happy." "Whatever made you think I'd want that... scene last night?" "Well, I just assumed because of your cross-dressing. I thought all transvestites were into that kind of stuff." "Well, you were wrong. The belief that all of us are really just masochistic homosexuals is just a stereotype. I don't dress because I want to get fucked like a girl. I dress up because a very strong part of me is in need of expression, a very feminine part. I like who I am. But it took me a long time to come to grips with what I am. And it annoys the hell out of me when people try to pigeonhole me without trying to understand me." "But aren't most TV's into that stuff?" Tim sighed. "I don't know about most, but I'll grant that a greater percentage of the T-community, TV's, TG's, and TS's, experiment with the BDSM lifestyle, but that's because T-girls have already had to overcome society telling them, 'You can't do that. It's wrong.' I suspect that if more people got over worrying about what others thought, more would give BDSM a try. But I have tried it and I don't like it. And if you'd've asked me, I'd've told you about it." Lydia looked down shamefully. "I am so sorry, Tim. So you're not a homosexual?" "No. Except for some teenage experimentation, I have never been with nor desired to be with another man." Lydia shuffled around a bit, before saying, "Oh, hell with it." She threw her arms around his neck and planted one of the most passionate kisses he had ever had on his lips. Tim was too stunned to respond. When she finished, she pulled back a bit. Leaving her eyes closed for fear of seeing rejection on Tim's face, she said, "I only wanted you to be happy, Tim. I love you. I never said anything because I thought... that you'd never be interested in me." She opened her eyes. "But could you possibly forgive me, and... give me a chance? Romantically?" Tim, still a little stunned, stared at her for a bit before saying, "Okay." She kissed him again and this time he kissed her back. They moved towards his room, still entwined in each other's arms. They finally separated once they were there. Tim turned around and asked, "Unzip me, please?" Lydia unzipped him, and helped him out of his dress. He then helped her to undress. She kissed him again, their lipstick covered lips sliding sensually across each other. She went to her knees before him, pulled the edge of his slip up, and pulled his panties down. Seeing his dick was already hard, she asked, "Is that me or the clothes?" "You. Definitely you." She smiled, leaned in, and took his dick in her mouth. She gently sucked him, getting off on the silky feel of his slip rubbing lightly against her nose. After a few seconds he said, "Stop. Stop please." She pulled off of him. "What? Did I do something wrong?" "No." He pulled her to her feet. "I just wanted to do you, and I wasn't going to be able to hold off too much longer." "Okay." As they walked to the bed, she said, "Tim, I don't know if you'll think me weird for asking, but could you... stay dressed? I thought it'd be too weird, but... it's actually a turn on." "I thought you'd never ask." She lay down on the bed. Tim got up on the bed between her legs. He leaned over and put his lips to her womanhood and gently licked her. As waves of pleasure washed over her, she threw her head back and moaned. The next time she opened her eyes, she looked down and saw this blonde between her legs licking her out. In her state of excitement, it took a few seconds to remember that this was her friend, Tim. She moaned, "Oh, Tamara," and felt Tim redouble his efforts on her. Soon she felt the pleasure build to the point where she couldn't hold back and screamed in orgasmic release. He slid up her body, his slip rubbing against her body in the most tantalizing way, not giving her a chance to cool down. when he got close to her face, she grabbed him and pulled him close and kissed him. She felt his rod poking her leg, and reached down and slid it into her. "You're so hot," he moaned. Lydia giggled. "I never knew I could get a woman so hot." Tim smiled. "You do know how to flatter a lady." They kissed and moved together. As Tim shafted into her, she felt his "breasts" press on hers. She knew they were only simulated breasts, but the feeling was so sensual and exotic, she couldn't help thrashing in desire underneath him, and soon they came together in an explosive orgasm, dissolving into a writhing mass of bodies. After they came down, Lydia stroked his side through his slip. "That was so incredible. I thought making love to a man in women's clothes would just be too weird, but you were incredible." "Thanks." "Tim, do you really forgive me? 'Cause I do love you and I just wanted you to be happy." "Yes, I forgive you. If I didn't, we wouldn't have done this. Just talk with me before you do anything like that again." She kissed him. "Deal." "Lydia, thinking about last night, should I be worried about those people? I'm not going to be attacked in the middle of the night, or some such, am I?" "No. But it was a little surprising when you threw the official dresser out onto the stage in nothing but her underwear." "So they're not going to come after me?" "They better not. Not after they..." "What?" "They made me pay them a hundred bucks for the trouble you caused, since you were recommended by me." "Sorry for that, but you should've talked with me first." "I know. But don't worry, I plan on getting it back out of you." "Really? How?" She climbed atop him and straddled his body. "By teasing and exciting my new lesbian lover until she gives me at least a hundred dollars worth of servicing." "Once I give you your money back what are you going to do with me?" Lydia grinned. "I don't know. I was planning on charging you a hefty interest rate. At about 150% a day, you'll be paying me back forever." Tim grinned. "150% a day? I think that's usury." Lydia lay across him and nuzzled his neck. "So you'll always have something to use on me in case I ever do something stupid." "I think I can handle that." The two kissed and then giggled girlishly. -- "This is reality, not T.V. Can't you tell the difference?" "Sure, I just like T.V. better." jrdss@alaska.net ICQ#37222294 J R D -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at Hosted by | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+