Sketched into mind

The dining table was long, and had tiny, little etched cards prescribing every guest their seat. Suzy’s Daddy was at the head of the table, of course… Jesse had barely been given a chance to offer more than a quick curtsy hello to the intimidating gentleman thus far, as he strode between the groups of other guests. Suzy had whispered something about him using any excuse to gather important people together and play discreet games of politics or business. To which the visiting sissy had already began to see visible currents in the way all these wealthy strangers milled about each other, gathering together or pulling one individual aside. There was definitely a miasmic cloud of exchanges and discussions floating overhead which were completely beyond the realm of those who were just here as pets and playthings. It actually began to give him a slight glimmer of hope that perhaps all that his fears about being invited here might have been misplaced. Especially with the way he and Suzy had been mostly ignored: Admired only briefly… like the pieces of artwork on the walls, then left to dodge between skirt-tails among the other domesticated young toys.

He was given some pride of place however, seeing his name printed delicately on a card just to the right hand of their magnanimous host. For a moment, he was anxious that he had been split up from Suzy… until he saw his friend hop happily up into his master’s lap. There was a distinct and unashamed degree of shuffling as the older man unzipped his pants and settled his penis into comfort between the femboy’s soft, round ass-cheeks. Clearly a pair of pillows it knew well and which were always happy to accommodate. Jesse wondered how many tables of faces his companion had faced down, filled with CEO’s, professors and senators… all while his claimed-to-be father’s cock rubbed swellingly against his backside. It brought him back to a blush to imagine. Caught wondering what it might be like to be so accustomed to the warm, throbbing meat of another pressed up under that thin, silky dress.

A smile across the table seemed to have gleaned the direction of his attention, and perhaps guessed the passage of his thoughts. The sharply-sparkling eyes of ‘Lady Francine’ flashed like finely cut diamonds across from the other seat of highest honor. A slight arc of just one of those perfect eyebrows being all it took to send an even brighter flush burning down Jesse’s neck. He quickly tried to look away… only to find that the other neighbour to settle in beside him, was that tall, thin doctor from the previous room. The man was still scribbling away with a pencil at the notebook in his lap. Only now the sissy could see what he was drawing: On one page was completed a perfect, shaded image… of Jesse cowering nervously against Suzy in the corner of a room. Only, the artist had somehow managed to completely remove the clothes from both of them and still produce every detail to lifelike perfection. The femboy was both amazed and horrified to see his own miniature penis and testicles flopping timidly between his legs in greyscale accuracy, while his friend’s puffed-out chest showed off the exact pair of breasts and puffy nipples that he had caught so many stray glances of in school. Even worse: on the other page, the speedily flickering pencil was already halfway through a set of further, imagined poses. This time all of just Jesse and showing him bending over, kneeling down or being bent forward onto a table by some as-yet undrawn ****. The man’s skill was undeniable, and the speed at which each picture formed under that blurring stick of graphite near inhuman. Yet it was the exact biological accuracy, down to every mole and hint of musculature… that really bothered Jesse. It was as if he was looking at one of the lewd sets of photographs the school had already taken, only in poses and places he had not yet even been in.

The young doctor seemed to notice his attention for a moment, but made no comment… Instead only studying the chaotic mix of emotions scrawled across his new subject’s face. Without a word, he flipped over onto another page, and got to work. Soon enough forming the basic lines of that same expression looking up at its owner from a paper mirror; only on top of a naked body kneeling and looking up at the viewpoint, holding onto its half-risen cock in masturbation.