Clean up and pause for self reflection.

Still unsteady from the **** and deep dicking, you leave Dale dozing and head to the restroom. You sit down to take stock of what just happened and how best to keep your momentum up before the inevitable crash. You feel a little of the deadbeat's dick drool dribbling from your reddened, puffy pucker and push the rest out with a disgusting SPLORT. You think to yourself, 'whoa...I just shit cum!' And the thought is so vividly vile and so disgustingly depraved that you feel like the floor is dropping out from you...and then you get a hard on.

You don't understand what is happening. You aren't gay...all your life you've had to correct bullies, crushes, acquaintances, your family, dogs...everyone that thought that just because you have a girly build you can't like girls. Then again, it might explain why you hopped on the first hard cock you saw...or why you're scooping the last of your bully's baby batter out of your ass and using it to jerk your puny prick.

You try thinking of girls, but you can't exactly picture yourself pounding some curvy cheerleader while you use another man's load for lube. All you can think of his hard cocks and beefy bodies...until you get the brilliant thought to imagine yourself as the girl. That gets you pumping harder while fingering your slick, slimy asshole and holding your mouth open to catch your sissy spurts. You explode almost immediately catching your cum on your tongue and realizing it is thinner and weaker than the stud that stuffed you.

You lick your lips and tell yourself you can figure out what this makes you later. For now it's more important to keep this high going, even if it means sinking deeper and deeper down the sissy spiral to do it. You still can't shake the image of yourself as a sexy slut, so you sneak out of the restroom and into Dale's room to search for trophies from his conquests, and true to form, he has quite the creepy collection.

You stand in front of his full length closet mirror and pull a red thong over your small nub, feeling it swell against the silk. You find a pair of black pantyhose with ornate inlays and ripped knees. It sends shivers up your spine as you slide it up your smooth legs. You fumble with an open cup blue bra that pushes up your chest for an illusion of budding breasts and shows off your painfully puffy nipples. You don't see much in the way of clothes, but you get a wicked idea to complete the look.

You take a marker and scissors to your tshirt so it becomes a midriff exposing tank top that says 'Fag Ho'. You cut your jeans until they resemble denim panties, your pockets showing through as well as a peek at the bottom of your plump ass and the waistband of your thong pulled up at an alluring angle. Looking at yourself in the mirror you realize that this is exactly your type of filthy fantasy slut, and, at least for now, if you can't beat them, you'll join them.

You quickly with grab as much as you can fit in your backpack, as well as a pound of weed and a pipe. You figure Dale won't mind, and if he does, you can always pay him back in trade. You blow him a kiss on the way out the door, already on the hunt for your next hot meal.