Making of a Shemale Queen
By Kourtney
Where do I begin to tell my story? I guess it started with my mother. She had been a rather attractive woman. She married young and when her husband was away at work she started drinking after I was born.
They gave me an Irish name of Patrick in honor of my father's dad. For a short time I guess everything was fairly normal. Then she started finding ways to let neighbors baby-sit for me so she could hang out in bars for company while she got drunk.
Something happened when I was born and they had to remove her womb and ovaries. That meant that she needed injections of estrogen and additional female hormones.
This led to fights between my mom and dad until he could not take it anymore and filed for divorce from her. The State of Virginia is one of those States that still thinks that a child belongs with the mother no matter what the mother is like. It is almost impossible to prove that a woman is unfit. So I was given to her with a generous child support from my father. It was put in a trust for my expenses.
Mom got herself appointed executor of my estate and spent everything as fast as it came in. She was dragging him to court to claim he missed payments or she needed more money all the time. He finally left the State and stopped making payments at all.
She drank all the money away and failed to keep up payments on anything until she lost everything we owned. We had to move to a cheep waterfront flophouse. I grew up with the smell of diesel oil, rotting fish. My clothes were rarely washed and my haircut. When I was old enough to go to school I seldom attended because washing clothes cost money that was spent on gin.
She got so bad that she was hanging out in longshoremen's bars and listing to them telling her how beautiful she was. She was living in a delusional world. She had gotten fat; her teeth had gone bad, her hair looked like a cheap mop.
She would bring these guys home with her. I would be trying to pretend I was asleep on the lumpy smelly old couch. They would make so much noise stumbling in that they would have raised the dead even if they were not talking like they were standing behind a 747 jet aircraft.
They would stumble into the bedroom and I could hear everything going on the other room through the paper- thin walls. They would be saying all kinds of romantic things to each other. The cheep old military cot made a lot of noise as they moved around on the bed. It did not take much imagination to picture what was going on. They would both make a running commentary about what was going on. I got a graphic education about what a blow-job sounded like or what it sounded like for a woman to get her cunt ate. Then it would end with them fucking her either in the cunt or asshole.
It got so she was passing out even before the blowjobs were over. The men would some times fuck her anyway. Then some of them would come out and sit on my couch and shake me to wake me up. They would talk about how she should have at least stayed awake long enough for them to get off.
Then they would tell me what a nice looking boy I was. They would stroke my long hair that I keep in a ponytail because we could not afford to get a haircut. Then they would stroke my penis for awhile. Then they would take my hand and wrap it around their cocks and have me stoke them until they would shoot cum either on me or on the floor.
As time passed they got bolder and would start making me give them a blowjob. Then they started probing my anus with their fingers. It was not long before they bent me over the arm of the couch or lifted my legs when I was on my back and fit their penis into my anus and fuck me. It happened enough that I began to enjoy the feeling of a dick in my asshole. I was even having dry climaxes from the act.
Eventually she shacked up with this big hairy longshoreman. His big hands felt like they were sandpaper. He moved in and spent a little money on us at first.
When she would pass out he would come in and visit me just like all the other guys. He would feel me up. And have me give him a hand job. He would have me undress and walk around the room.
One day he brought home all the things a girl would wear. He had me undress and put on the clothes he brought home. When I stared to pull up the little floral panties he stopped me and said the Patricia would never have a bulge in her panties.
He reached between my legs and took hold of my penis and pulled it down and then pulled it up between the cheeks of my ass. This stuffed my scrotum back under my dick. When I was allowed to pull the panties up the front of the panties dipped in like I had a crack there.
He had me turn around and felt my ass. The penis was hidden between my buns. Then I put on the slip and then put on the frilly dress that was appropriate for a girl of the age of eight years old. I should point out that I never seemed to catch up with boys my age growing up. Even now I am only five-foot four-inches tall.
Then he took my hair down and brushed it out with a slight flip. I thought I looked like Steven Seagal but right now I looked more like a young Jean Simmons. Then he took me in his arms and sat me on his lap and he began to feel me up just like I was a girl.
He unbuttoned my blouse and felt my breasts. He was kissing me on the mouth and his coarse beard chaffed my young cheeks. I felt his hand rest on my bare knee and feel its way up to my panties. He felt me like a girl. Then he reached between my legs and pulled my penis out and stroked it until I had a dry orgasm.
This was all a prelude to him laying me on the couch and pulling my panties off and putting my legs over his shoulders. He aimed his big penis at the opening to my ass. I had been fucked by many of her boyfriends before but this was not normal. A farmer could win a blue ribbon with a cucumber this big. It hurt me terribly as it forced its way past my sphincter muscle. As I cried and whimpered I felt the shaft of his cock slide deeply into my anus. He fucked me until he had a climax that filled my rectum with his cum.
When he pulled out of my ass I felt something warm leaking out of my ass. I reached between my legs and wiped myself with my fingers. When I looked at my fingers had his cum on them and a thin trace of blood. I knew that my anus had been stretched until the skin had split.
He went to the bathroom and returned with a cream that he applied to my sore bottom. He told me that after a few times that I would learn to love the feeling of his sausage in my butt.
I dreaded what would happen every time Mom would pass out. He would call out, "Where is my Patricia girl?" I would simply change my clothes rather than have him do it. He was right about my ability to take his cock. After awhile I actually looked forward to the feeling it would bring me.
He stared giving me pills that he said would make me feel more like a girl. I learned later that he was giving me Mom's hormones. Over the next couple of years she got a mustache above her lip and the hair between her legs got thicker and a few strands of hair would appear on her chin and between her breasts.
I started developing breasts. My hips got broader, my waist got narrower. My skin got softer. By the time I was entering puberty at 12-years old my breasts were more than a B-cup.
Mom developed liver damaged from drinking. She died before I was thirteen years old. Over the years the courts had lost track of her and me.
My so-called stepfather moved me to his bed and I sucked him or he fucked me whenever he wanted. He found a friend that he would take me to every month for injections. By the time I was fifteen years old my breasts were a nice C- cup.
Like a lot of drunkard longshoremen he got in a fight on the docks with knives. He was gutted and died a painful death as he bled to death.
That put me on the streets alone to find for myself. All I knew how to do was sell my body. I started selling myself on the streets. The pimps wanted me to work for them. I didn't want that so I had to find a way to work without them knowing about it.
I went to that guy that gave me the shots and he set me up with a sugar daddy after I sucked him and he fucked me a few times. Finally a black limousine picked me up outside the pharmacist's back door.
I was driven to a very nice part of town. The gated community had large number of old federal cotton empire mansions. The red brick driveway was made into a herringbone pattern.
We drove right through the breezeway to the back of the house. The driver got out and opened the door for me. When I got out I saw a black maid standing at the back door. She said welcome to Grace Mansion my dear.
She led me right to an old library with old dark wooden paneling and the walls were covered with books. The furniture was red leather and the carpets were the color of a green pool table top. Behind very heavily carved leather topped desk sat an old man.
He told me, "Have a seat my dear. My name is Johnathin Wright I am the last of five generations of Wright's to own this place.
Now my child, I understand that you are an orphan now and in need to a place to call your home. Let me take you up stairs and show you the room I have for you. Then we can bath you and find you something much nicer to put on before dinner"
I followed him up stairs and down a wide hall to a bedroom near the one at the end of the hall. I was very impressed. It was larger than the whole apartment I had been living in for the past few years.
The room was painted a mauve color with gold vein like streaks running from floor to ceiling. The room was filled with white pickled furniture that all looked very girlish and expensive. This was a very lucky girl's room.
John led me into the bathroom and I couldn't believe it. The room was large and all white marble. The vanity had two sinks that were recessed with brass-legged chairs in front of them. There were two toilets against the opposite wall. They were matched except one did not have a toilet seat on it. When I flushed it water came jetting up from the brass tube in the middle of the bowl. I learned that it was called a bidet and was for washing the crotch of someone after the used the toilet.
The shower was very large with marble benches in it. The tub was next to that and was a sunken tub that had a window that over looked the back yard. It was large enough for two or three people and the brass fixtures allowed water to cascade over a foot wide brass waterfall into the tub.
John helped me undress and put the clothes by the door. He walked around me several times admiring my body. If it were not for the eight-inch dick and scrotum between my legs I looked like a very girl with dark hair of fifteen or sixteen. He felt my breasts and pinched my nipples. The he felt my ass and opened my cheeks to look at my asshole. He inserted a couple of fingers and all I did was pushing my butt back wanting more. Then he took hold of my penis and stroked it very gently. I could still get an erection from the touch of another person's hand.
He joined me in the bath and washed me. When he was finished he called for the maid. The black maid came in and had a couple of large towels with her.
She commented, "Mister John, she is a sweet one isn't she. " They agreed on that much as the dried him and me. When my hair was about dry the maid use scissors and gave me a hair trim and used a blow dryer to style my hair into a very contemporary stile and lightened up some streaks in my hair. When she was done she was excused.
John led me to the bed and told me that this was my room if I didn't want to sleep in his bed. I kissed his face and he held my head between his hands and kissed me. We went to bed and we kissed for hours then he sucked my breasts until the nipples were sore. Then he put me on my hands and knees. He fit his penis in my anus as he reached around my hip and wrapped his hand around my penis. He stroked my dick with the same pace that his hips as he fucked me.
I lived with him for about four years and he saw to it that I was educated and taught how to be a lady. When he passed away the maid joined me as I learned the business of being a transvestite exotic dancer. In short order I became a well-known headliner that performed all over the country. My staff saw to it that I was not disturbed.
I did not wear wigs. It was my own hair that my maid took care of to this day. It was great fun to perform because I learned to sing in a number off styles. The biggest thrill was to watch the audience debate if I was really a woman or not. I always looked for the biggest doubting Thomas and end my show in front of him or her. Then I pull my G-string off and pull my dick and scrotum from between my butt cheeks and wave it in front of them. I ask, "Would you like to taste it to make sure it was real."