30 days in the (glory) hole.

You turn to beg for another chance, but the heavy steel door slams closed with a CLANG. You try to see something, anything in your new home for the next month, but it is pitch black inside. Your heart races and your breaths grow shallow and short. You feel dizzy, and worry if you black out that you won't even know it.

"Calm PANT PANTdown. Calm PANT down. You have PANT to breath." Your voice still sounds unfamiliarly feminine to you. Worse, it makes you even more turned on. You can't fathom how you can be so horrified and yet so horny. You try to take your mind off the latter by focusing on relieving the former. You put your arms out as far as they will stretch and walk forward. It is only a few steps before you hit a wall. You follow it along and find it is a square cell with no amenities other than a bucket and a bare, thin mattress on the floor.

"I'm in the hole. I thought they only had that in old prison movies. Wait...is it a bad sign that I'm already talking to myself? Should I stop? I should stop. I'm going to stoooooop...now." A minute or an hour passes as you sit on your mattress. "Sure is quiet in here. And me with this stupid, sexy voice. Like it's crazy how hot my voice is...like phone sex sultry. Oooh...I could totally beat off while talking sexy to myself!"

The moment you hear yourself say it, you know it is a dangerously stupid idea. You also know you are absolutely going to do it, and why go crazy waiting for nothing to happen when you can entertain yourself? You fumble for your cock and find it hard and hurting. You feel like it's been decades since you've cum. You run your palm over your cock head, coating it in copious precum. The smell is filthy and forbidden and intoxicating. Your tongue lolls as you use your pre as lube to stroke up and down your shaft. You wish you had gotten a better look at it before you got thrown in the dark, but you'd say it has to be a good nine inches at least, and crazy thick.

"Mmm. What a big, sexy cock you...UNGGGH!" You don't get a full sentence out before you are spurting sissy spunk all over your hands. You try to catch it all, but some lands on your breasts and chin as well. You've never cum so much or so hard. It's like every orgasm you ever had rolled into one and exploding out of your prick. It leaves you breathless, blissed out, and blessedly blank...for a few minutes anyway.

That's when you notice the smell...stronger by far than your precum, and filling the tiny room like a fuck fog. You consider scooping it into the bucket, but then it will just be sitting in this sweltering hole, putrifying and poisoning the air. You consider trying to rub it into your skin, but then you'd feel all crusty and icky and the savory smell would drive you crazy. You decide the safest course is to lick it up. Not because you want to of course, just to be as hygienic as possible.

You are addicted from the first time it touches your tongue. Like a kiss from God himself it lights up your tastebuds and sends pure love endorfuns and sissytonins flooding your brain and pumping pure pleasure through your veins with every loving lap. Before you know it, you have guzzled down every gooey gulp and cleaned yourself like a pussy. You take a moment to appreciate how fucked up all off this is.

Then you feel hungry...and horny, and horribly humiliatingly curious if your creamy cum would taste even better if you spurted it right into your slutty, slobbery mouth. Seconds later you are stroking, spittle sliding down your chin, spurty sticky sweet ropes of pure love all over your tantalized tongue and into your hungry maw. You feel like your swallowing your very first bite of birthday cake batter, and you want to lick the bowl. You get right back to work on your third batch of bliss biscuits of the day, only this time it takes three times as long to get a tenth of the good stuff.

You try to bend over far enough to suck your own sissy shaft, but it is a sisyphean stretch you just can't close. You end up falling to your mattress, splayed out...spent, yet starving, humbled and horny, hoping for a miracle you know won't come. Finally, you fall into a fitful half slumber filled with wet, whimpery nightmares.