My new addiction

Weeks past since my time at the gloryhole. I felt like I was having withdrawals from the lack of semen. Several releases of my own would help, but it wasn’t the same. It did however create a need of anal stimulation as well. Because any orgasm of my own had to be achieved anally, butt plugs were now a necessity essentially at all times. And when that didn’t do the trick, I would find myself wandering the house pumping a dildo in and out of my boi pussy.

My online profile was being updated daily with pictures of varying depravity. Long gone were the relatively wholesome pictures of me trying to appear innocent and untouched in a skimpy outfit, and instead were pictures of me covered in the ejaculate of a dozen strangers after my latest gloryhole visit. Yes, this also became a necessity. I found several around town at various bars and adult book stores. Some kinda nice and seemingly misplaced. Others as grungy and dirty as you could imagine.

I think it may have been my second visit to the gloryhole at the black cat roadhouse, this biker bar downtown, when I entered the gloryhole room adjacent to the men’s bathroom, and there was another sissy slut like me just passed out from the sheer pleasure of having swallowed so many loads of cum. I just stepped over her and went to work, sucking the cocks of whatever biker was brave enough to put their manhood into a random hole in the wall, to be pleasured by a stranger on the other side. Did they know what I was? Maybe, maybe not. Probably not, in fact. But the mystery of it all probably played into the fantasy. Or for some, possibly they didn’t care as long as whatever was sucking the orgasm from them did it well.

It had not been 6 weeks since I started this journey. I had accepted a few more dates with men whose fancy I just have suited in one way or other. It usually went about they same. They’d show up in a nice suit, painted with expensive and good smelling cologne. One man even brought flowers for me, which was nice albeit out of place. They’d introduce themselves, and before finishing I’d pull them into my abode by their tie or whatever I could easily grab only to give them the best head they’ve ever had, them I’d say goodnight and let them leave.

Surely this wasn’t the best way to attain a daddy, but I really didn’t care at this point. My mind kept telling me I had plenty of time. And there were so many more dicks to suck. So many more loads to swallow. So many more men to pleasure. And it was intoxicating to me.

Then an email came from the “office” as it were. Subject line “concerns”