Date: Mon, 14 Jan 2013 16:01:38 +0000
From: Peter Freeman <oeter@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: Adam likes pretending to be a girl. Part 2

This is fiction. Any similarity with persons living or dead is
coincidental. If you have any comments, please let the author know at
oeter@hotmail.co.uk.

There is sex and what might be construed as sexual abuse in this story
involving intimacy in a developing pederastic relationship between a man
and a boy who enjoys cross-dressing.

Main characters:
Author - Martin
Author's brother - Michael
Michael's wife - Muriel
Martin's nephew, Michael and Muriel's son - Adam

Synopsis (Chapters 1-4)
Adam, my nephew, a transvestite twelve year-old boy, is staying with me
following a family bust-up. Adam's mother had found his father in bed
with another man while Adam, dressed up in corset and stockings was
performing a 'beauty parade' in front of them. Adam, whose loving
relationship with me has up to now been quite proper, has an incipient
sexuality that I have to deal with.

Chapter 5 - Principles

A week has passed since Adam came to stay. I've kind of gotten used to
his gorgeousness and he, whilst exclusively wearing girl's clothes in the
flat, seems to have reverted to the refreshing boyish impishness you'd
expect someone of his age to have. During the week, we even managed a
routine of him going to and returning from school and me managing to do
some work. My brother phoned a few times. He's trying to patch things up
with Muriel (Adam's mum) and we're getting used to the idea that Adam can
live with me for a while.
When we're together, we chat nearly all the time. I found out a lot more
about what had been going on between Adam's dad and other men, who were
often not much older than Adam himself. Adam had observed scenes that
sometimes puzzled him. For example, he'd seen his dad buggering a lad
when Adam came into the room once without knocking. He'd been into the
toilet one time and found his dad pissing on the head of a lad in the
bath. "You'd have thought they'd have locked the door", was Adam's
comment but he'd clearly got the idea that what his dad was up to with
his lads was something exciting. His dad often relaxed with Adam after
getting laid, and that was when they'd had quality time together. On one
occasion, one of his father's partners had called for an encore after
Adam's fashion show and then suggested that Adam remove his clothes as he
paraded on his catwalk. Adam had duly complied and provided what must
have been a rather divine little strip show.
I found out that Adam's hero worshipping me had involved a fantasy in
which he was my slave boy, but dressed in a slave girl's clothes or
naked. I also got to know that Adam was highly devious, observant and
intelligent. I told him that deviousness was borne out of necessity and
that if there was no need for it then it shouldn't occur, which he
readily agreed. I started to see how naturally submissive he was when led
to the right place in himself.
We slept together in the nude but never got up to anything except
affectionate hugs and kisses. And when I sometimes felt his little
stiffie poking into me, I'd invariably roll away, in the hope that he'd
get the message that that sort of stuff was off my agenda. I invariably
found however that my own sexual fantasies involved Adam. After all, he
was gorgeous, and a skilful transvestite. He?d spend hours perfecting his
make-up, sometimes coming out of our bedroom to wash his face and start
all over again because he'd messed up some aspect of it. First thing he'd
often do when he wanted me to inspect and, he hoped, admire, his
handicraft was to give me a kiss on the neck that left a lipstick mark. I
got the feeling that, whilst I had clearly put the idea of any type of
improperness between us beyond the pail, he was still trying (consciously
or unconsciously) to woo me. And I felt lust toward him, I confess.
Whilst the love I felt for him as a cute kid and as my nephew was real,
I'd also fallen for the kid in a way that probably had the same effect on
my hormones as when a guy falls in love with a girl, and I?d become acutely
aware of it when I'd been looking at his arms while he was in his skimpy
dress.
So when one day, Adam asked,
"Can I watch you wank?" I caught my breath.
"I'd find it too embarrassing. Wanking is something I do in private,"
"Not any more with me in the bed," he said. "I feel the bed rocking
sometimes when you come."
"Do you, now?" I was feeling embarrassed.
"And I always pretend to be asleep in the hope that you'll do it," he
went on.
"Thank you for letting me know. I think it's time we had a little talk."
"OK, uncle."
"Adam, when you put your lips against mine while we're being
affectionate, that does something to me that I have to resist responding
to."
"Why do you have to resist?"
"Because if I crossed a certain line, I'd be abusing you, and that's
serious. You are not allowed to be the object of my sexual desire." Adam
thought about this and then cheekily said,
"But I am, aren't I?"
"Unfortunately, yes." I said. I sighed. It occurred to me that this
conversation would kill the 'thing' that existed between us, but Adam
hadn't finished yet.
"Does ?proprieties? mean ?rules??" he asked.
"Yes," I said, "except more like meta-rules, the principles behind the
rules." I wanted to try to put things in a context to which Adam could
relate, so I thought I'd try to appeal to his narcissism. I went on, "The
first thing you need to know Adam is that I love you. Your company
delights me. And when I say I love you, I also find you desirable. You're
exquisite, you know. You've let your hair grow long enough so it swishes
around when you turn your head. Your little smooth face is wonderfully
proportioned and you have the finest lips of anyone I've known. Naked,
I'd say you were a bit thin, but you have a well-proportioned body and it
will be interesting to see how you develop. So, to look at, you're really
desirable. You can feel good about yourself. You'll never have trouble
getting a partner if you know how to behave right and remain as adorable
as you are."
"What about my dresses?" he asked.
"You're dresses make you beguilingly beautiful and they have another
effect too."
"What?"
"Well, because what my eyes see in front of me is a beautiful girl with
lovely arms and a slender figure, a part of my brain, which I have no
control over, gets alerted. You are naturally effeminate in a way that
allows your pretence at being a girl to succeed to the extent that it
overcomes a man's natural defences." I saw Adam's eyes glaze over and I
realised he had other thoughts on his mind, so I paused.
"But what about MY sexual arousal?" asked Adam. "Why can't I have
partners, just because I haven't had a certain birthday yet?"
"Good question." I thought for a moment. "The laws weren't made for kids
who want to get laid but for adults who want to get laid with kids."
"That doesn't help me, does it?" Adam seemed almost in tears with
indignation.
"No, it doesn't." I admitted. "But I'm sure we can come up with
something. I can see you need a sexual outlet, so you could stick to what
other boys your age do and just wank, or find a wank buddy, a boy your
own age."
"Which I've never done," he said. "I told you I was innocent."
"You've never wanked?" I was surprised. "Why not?"
"I've tried, but I don't think I'm doing it right. That's why I wanted to
watch you." It suddenly dawned on me. There I'd been, assuming prurient
motivations to this sweet boy, when all the prurient motivations were my
own. The boy just wanted to have his first ever wank and wanted his
good-natured uncle to show him how.
"OK," I said. "Given the close proximity of our sleeping quarters and as
an educational service to you I'll show you how I do it, and it would be
convenient not to have to wait until you pretend to go to sleep in
future."
"Hurray!" Adam cried. "We can be wank buddies. Will you tell me what
you're thinking about while you do it and then can I do it in front of
you so you can tell me if I'm doing it right?"
"No we can't be wank buddies, Adam. This is just for your education, OK."
I replied, wondering whether such a practical demonstration really was an
acceptable form of education, and whether he'd see through my sophistry.
He winked at me, then came up to me, gave me big hug and said,
"I love you, uncle." and cheekily put his lips against mine. This time I
so nearly reciprocated. Oh how I wanted to kiss his beautiful lips, but
my fear held me back.

Chapter 6 - Wank buddies

The stage was set for 'wank buddy' time. I felt as though I was the one
now being displayed on the catwalk, and I had mixed feelings about
sharing the experience of my orgasm with this young boy.
Come bedtime, we both stripped as usual and snuggled up under the double
duvee to make the bed warm.
As we lay there, Adam's hand boldly went down to my genitals and he said,
"Can I have my show now?" I felt him shyly handle my penis and I pushed
him away.
"OK, you incorrigible boy." I growled. He sat up, switched on the bedside
spot lamp and pointed it halfway down the bed. Then he drew back the
duvee slowly.
"Wow!" he said. "Maybe I should video this."
"No need," I said. "You can watch any time you like."
I started playing with myself while he watched, but it was, as I'd hinted
earlier, too embarrassing, and I didn't get hard.
"No good," I said. "As Leonardo said, penises just don't jump to
attention when required." I actually felt relieved; my performance
anxiety evidently having gotten the better of me so far.
"Let me help," said Adam. He got up, rooted around in his pile of clothes
on the floor. Pulling his tutu up his legs, he reached down again and
held up a silver wand. There was a wire coming out of it and I realised
it was some sort of electro-stim device.
"I'm the good fairy," he said playfully, "and I can cast a spell to make
everything all right."
"Where the hell did you get that?" I asked.
"I nicked it off one of my dad's friends," was his reply as he activated
the device and lunged towards my genitals.
"No way," I yelled as I grabbed him and managed to get him to drop the
wand. I held him and then, as his head turned towards me, I again had the
urge to kiss him full on the mouth in a devouring way. I realised that
going to the brink with this boy and not going beyond it was going to be
an exacting task. We fell back together on the bed. Then he sat up and,
half in shadow, started arranging his tutu. With his top bare, he sat
cros-legged with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands,
looking at my naked torso.
"I could dance for you," he said.
"No, you stay there," I said. I carried on playing with myself and looked
at his elfin form. The thought of having him watch me while I watched him
watching me had a certain appeal and there was something highly erotic
about the boy in the tutu. Did Adam know this, I wondered? As I played I
became hard and Adam's face beamed as a smile spread across it.
"Tell me what you're thinking." he said quietly.
"Oooh, I don't know." I said, not wanting to be drawn from my internal
reverie. But having agreed to tell him, I went on. "You're my fantasy
boy, my innocent, untouchable but gorgeous." I looked at him and our eyes
locked. "If I could touch you I'd kiss you all over your face and feast
on your lips. I'd impale you on my finger and suck you off with my mouth.
I held that image of him held up with my hand with one finger up his bum,
his cock pushed into my mouth. Several times I repeated. "Yes, you're
close to coming and your cock is in my mouth." and "I can feel the smooth
muscle of your anus and it feels so tight." And then I came, in a really
rather intense orgasm. As my shudders subsided, Adam crawled on to me and
his tutu dragged through the pools of semen on my torso. He just
whispered,
"Thank you," in my ear and snuggled up with his head resting on the
pillow beside mine. "I liked the things you said about me and I liked the
images you described." We lay like that for a few minutes. Then he rolled
over and said,
"My turn now." I was feeling a bit sleepy, but I agreed.
"OK, show me what you do," I said. Adam was lying with his crotch hidden
by the shadow cast by the tutu. I tugged at it. "I can't see you." I
said. He pulled the tutu down off and kicked it off the bed. He was now
lying naked on the bed beside me, his knees apart, showing off his little
penis that already looked rock hard. He was pulling it around with his
hand, but I noticed immediately that his foreskin wasn't peeling back. In
fact the end of it, when he pulled it back as far as he was able, looked
sore.
"Just play with your frenulum," I said.
"What's that?" he replied.
"On the underside, under the helmet."
"I don't know what you mean. Show me." he said. Hesitantly, I tried to
guide his finger to the place I meant, but he put my hand on his penis
and said, "You touch my frenulum." And so I did, and I stimulated it with
my finger for a while. "Oh! That feels so good," he moaned.
"Now you do it," I said, taking my hand away. "See if you can put your
finger inside your foreskin so you can touch it directly. Stimulating the
frenulum helps give you good ejaculations."
I'd given him the key. His little fingers went to work and soon he was
moaning in a crescendo.
"Oooh, oooh oooh," he went as he came and a little blob of sperm oozed
out of his sight foreskin as he writhed and wriggled beside me.
"There you go," I said. "Now you know what it feels like."

Later, I attended to his foreskin, and got him regularly to bathe it in
salty water. He'd apparently tried to yank it back in frustration and had
indeed made the ring of his inner foreskin quite sore. I told him that
maybe if he pulled it as far back as he comfortably could each time he
had an erection then it might stretch enough for him to be able to pull
it right back.

Adam seemed altered after he had that first orgasm, a bit more pensive.
He came up to me the next day and said,
"I feel different now I'm no longer an 'innocent'."
"Well, there you are," I replied. "You've tasted adult pleasures, so your
innocence is gone forever!" Then he asked,
"Can girls have orgasms that are as good as boys'?"
"That's an interesting question," I replied. "Girls brains are wired
differently from boys'. They feel pain differently - using different
neural circuits - so maybe they experience orgasms differently too. They
certainly have climaxes, but I think the come-down afterwards is
different for them. We can't know because no one's ever been both to tell
us what the differences are. Maybe you should ask a girl that question."
"I like being a boy," Adam said after a pause.
"I'm glad to hear it," I said. "But you can still pretend to be a girl if
you want." Adam was silent. It seemed the loss of his innocence as he saw
it was causing him to question his identity.
"Can I give you a show now?" he asked.
"OK", I replied. He immediately set to laying his catwalk - a line of
towels laid on the floor, but this time he made a pile of cushions at the
end of it. Then he disappeared to the bedroom for a few minutes and came
back wearing the same dress, suspender belt and stockings he'd worn on
his arrival. He'd even managed to put some lipstick on. Putting some
dance music on the computer, he gracefully walked up and down his catwalk
in time to the music, giving a very good impression of a fashion model. I
clapped as the music ended. Then he put another track on and announced,
"For my encore, I'm going to strip." and before I could object, the dress
was on the floor and he was parading in just his suspenders and
stockings.
"Look Adam," I called, but he appeared not to hear me and he artfully
undid one of the stockings and pulled it with one movement off his leg,
quickly followed by the other. Finally off came the suspender belt and he
was standing there stark naked sporting his familiar little stiffy.
"Come here, Adam," I called and he came over. I gave the end of his penis
a little friendly yank and then, anticipating his intentions, I said,
"In a minute, go over and lie on the cushions and have a wank. In fact
have a wank any time you want. I imagine you'll want to repeat your
elevation to ecstasy quite a lot now.?
"Thanks, uncle," he said. "Will you watch?"
"Sure," I replied. "But first I want to measure this stiffy." There was a
ruler in the table drawer and I held it against Adam. "Three and a half
inches," I said, "quite respectable. I'll write that down and we can
measure it again soon." Adam receded towards the cushions. He had his
hips pushed forward making his penis stick out as far as was possible in
front of him, and he chanted, "I've been measured. Uncle's going to write
it in the slave book."
"I'll tell you what," I said. "You start off your wank without me
watching, and then half way through, I'll come and watch you, and you can
tell me afterwards which you preferred."
"OK" he said, and was lying on his pile of cushions while I looked in the
other direction. After only about 30 seconds he started groaning and
called out,
"Soon. Come. Watch me." So I turned my head and watched. He had his eyes
open and was smiling at me as he had his climax and his little body
writhed amazingly as he enjoyed his ecstasy and then lay still.
"So amazing," he commented. "Thank you so much for telling me about the
frenulum."
"Not at all," I said. "So which was better, when I watched or when I
didn't?"
"Not sure," he replied. "It was thinking about you holding me up to your
mouth that made me nearly come, and then you started watching and I came,
so really it was like you were watching the whole time."
"I see," I said.

Life went on. We settled into a quiet routine. Adam's family's problems
didn't seem to improve, with his parents in counselling, and his two
brothers taken up entirely with their own lives. Adam and I got along
famously though. I managed to resist kissing him romantically and thereby
breaking the propriety barrier I had set myself. On many occasions,
however, he would sit up in bed as I wanked, wearing just his tutu or
some other item he wanted to show off. Our eyes would lock as they had on
that first occasion, and I'd feast my eyes on him as I described
fantastic scenes involving him as the object of my desire until I
climaxed. Invariably, he'd be turned on by this and then he too would
wank and then he'd tell me the part of my own fantasy that he'd been
thinking of when he came. Sometimes he'd come up with a variant of his
own and it didn't surprise me that he had a fervently vivid erotic
imagination.
What was so nice was that there was no trace of embarrassment between us.
Adam carried on dressing up in girls' clothes and seemed happy with the
identity of being a gay sissy. He found friends on the internet who had
similar proclivities and, from the feedback he got from various forums,
told me once that he had the best living arrangement of anyone he knew.
Most felt they had to keep their gender-bending leanings completely
hidden from their families and hence lived in continual fear of
discovery.

A few months later, he came to me in great excitement and said,
"I've done it!"
"Done what?" I asked.
"Pulled it back. Look." He lifted up his skirt and there was his
semi-hard penis with the helmet showing and some pink crinkled skin where
his foreskin had folded back.
"Well done," I said admiringly. "No more problems in that area, I hope."
"I've made it sore again, though," he said.
"Never mind, it will heal." I told him. I found some talcum powder and
handed him the container. "Put some of this on your penis when you wank
if you pull the foreskin right back. It'll stop it getting sticky and
uncomfortable."
"Thanks," Adam said.

We also had fun measuring the length of his penis, which we did at least
once a week. Adam was triumphant every time I confirmed that it was
indeed an eigth of an inch or so longer than it had been. The measuring
sessions became a ritual during which I also measured his height, which I
marked on the wall. He wanted me to measure the depth of his rectum,
saying he thought he should know so he could pick a partner with the
ideal cock length, but I told him this could wait. Cock measurements were
recorded in the slave book, which turned out to be a notebook in which
Adam made lists of his imagined slave duties and which now had a table
with carefully ruled lines showing the date of each measurement. I
remember flipping the pages once after making an entry and seeing the
heading "Punishments". The rest of the page was blank.
"Punishments?" I asked, pointing at the page.
"Oh, yeah," Adam replied. "I was going to list out all the punishments I
was expecting, but you didn't give me any, so it's still blank."
"You could still write what you were expecting, even if you never got
it." I said.
"Yeah, I suppose," said Adam.
That night, during our wank buddy session, I made up a fantasy about
finding a punishment listed in the slave book. I was lying with my bottom
on a couple of pillows, which Adam told me made for a better spectacle.
He sat beside me just wearing his skimpy dress and as I fondled myself I
told him my fantasy.
?You?d written, ?For having thoughts inappropriate for someone my age: twenty
lashes.? So I asked you what inappropriate thoughts you were having. You
told me that you?d had thoughts of seducing a younger boy at school and
trying to get him to dress up as a girl. I told you that such thoughts
didn?t require punishment, but that you clearly needed some kind of
restraint if there was a risk you might harm another boy. So the next day
I invited a piercing artist to the flat. We laid you on the kitchen table
and he put a sleeper through the end of your foreskin. To that was
attached a thin chain, which went between your legs, up your arse crack,
and was attached to a chain round your waist, all held together at the
back with a jewel-encrusted clasp. Now your willy is pulled tightly
against your body and can't rise up. You complain that the ring is
hurting where it hasn?t stopped bleeding yet. I undo the clasp and the
chain falls, dangling from the ring at the end of your willy. It?s
permanent. We can?t get rid of the chain without cutting metal. You
complain that it?s still sore, and I see a droplet of blood at the location
of the piercing. I smear it round and gently massage your penis so that
it goes hard. I pull the foreskin back and see the wound stretch where
the chain is attached. It?s stinging, but the pain doesn?t seem to matter as
it seems to make the feeling of sexual arousal more intense. I continue
gently holding your penis and pulling the skin back until you?re close to
coming.? I was approaching an orgasm myself now. ?Yes, there?s pleasure and
pain all mixed up and it?s so nice. Your little willy is throbbing like it?s
never done before. Eventually you are so sensitive that I can stimulate
you with just the gentlest of tugs on the chain and then your
blood-encrusted penis spews forth the biggest load you?ve ever delivered.
The biggest, ever. Yes, so wet.? And I came as I imagined his orgasm tinged
with pain.
?Wow!? was Adam?s comment. ?And you seem to have delivered an unusually large
load as well. Some of it even went over your head!? Then he smeared what
had landed a bit closer around my chest and tummy, as had become his
custom. Then he lay down to have his turn and was quickly writing in
ecstasy. He told me that he?d come as he thought of himself tidily bound in
his chains, being led to his cage by an additional chain tied to the end
of his penis.
?That?s cool,? I said. ?Ilike it that you come imagining yourself bound in a
chastity device.?
?Yeah, kind of weird, that,? he commented, and then we snuggled up together.
?Does pain really make sex even better?? he asked. ?Ican?t imagine it being any
better than it is.?
?Yup,? I?m afraid so,? I said. ?You don?t have to always include pain, but when you
get used to it, it?s great. That and humiliation. When you got off on being
led on a chain to your cage, that?s humiliation, or maybe it?s total power
exchange, where you let your partner take care of everything and you don?t
have to make any decisions at all.?
?Sounds like where I want to be,? said Adam sleepily, and we soon both
drifted off in each other?s arms.

As weeks became months, his pubic hair bushed considerably, his penis
thickened up and, yes, the length of his erection grew. During a
measuring session one time, he said to me,
"Can we set a target length for it?"
"If you like," I said. "but what's the significance of reaching the
target? It won't mean it doesn't grow even more."
"I want the target set so it means that I'm big and manly enough to have
sex with men, like the ones my dad has."
"Right," I said. "Really that's down to age, but when yours gets to, say,
five inches, we'll have a special celebration."
"And then will you give me a proper kiss, then?" he asked, sheepishly.
"Yes, I'll give you a proper kiss." I replied and I gave him a gentle hug
and kissed his neck. He wrapped his legs round my waist and his arms
round my neck and I stroked his back for a long while.

Chapter 7 - Anticipated home coming

One day, after Adam had been with me nearly a year and had passed his
thirteenth birthday, his father phoned to ask if he could come over as he
had some important news. Michael, my brother and Adam's dad, had, I knew,
been having a very tough time with Adam's mum, Muriel, and I wondered
whether his news had to do with that.
The next afternoon, as agreed, Adam's father arrived. I welcomed him and
had him sit in an armchair. I sat on the sofa and called for Adam, who'd
stayed in the bedroom for some reason. Adam appeared, wearing cut-off
jean shorts and a t-shirt. He could almost have been a boy! Except I
noticed the eye-shadow and blusher that he used to accentuate his high
cheek bones.
"Hi dad," he said, and went over and kissed Michael on the forehead. I
tried to see if he'd left a lipstick mark. Adam then came and sat on the
sofa next to me and snuggled up. I put my arm round his shoulder, then
ran a finger over his lip to see if it left a smear.
"You've become like a mother to Adam over the past months," Michael said
to me.
"Mmmm. And how is his mother?" I asked.
"Yes," said Michael. "That's why I've come. Muriel and I have separated.
Adam, love, your mum feels she can't trust me any more and seems to think
she can't trust you either, which is a shame, because I know what a
wonderful little man you are."
"So what's going to happen?" asked Adam.
"Mum has found a new home, about 50 miles away, and she's taken your
brothers to live there. I'm going to keep our house and..." Adam
interrupted.
"And you want me to come home?"
"That's about it." said Michael.
"But what about Uncle Martin?" asked Adam. "Especially if he's going to
be my mother now."
"I wouldn't say I'm being a mother to you, Adam." I said.
"What are you being?" Michael asked me bluntly.
"He's not being my lover, if that's what you mean," put in Adam.
"Hold it, guys," I said. "Can I say my bit?" They both stopped talking
and looked at me. "Michael, Adam has certain ideas in his head, no doubt
some of them planted there as an indirect result of your agency, that
have made him hungry for the delights of sexual union. I have been doing
the best I can to educate him sexually whilst keeping to strict rules of
propriety."
Michael looked at Adam cosseted close to me on the sofa with his legs
tucked under him.
"I have no problem if you have a pederastic relationship with my son,
Martin." said Michael. "If he's bent on making himself look sexy, which
is, I think, what all the dressing up is about, then you'd be the first
person I'd trust to guide him toward forming a sexual identity that he
can live with."
"Thank you, Michael." I said.
"Now," said Michael. "How about you both come and stay at my house. It
will be far less cramped than it is here and we can all get on with our
lives in style."
"Sounds like a good way forward," I said "Adam, what do you think?"
"Fine by me," said Adam. "But can I sleep with Uncle Martin so I can
carry on with my sex education?"
"Yes, of course," said Michael.

To be continued...