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Turnabout is Fair Play
I don’t know what it is about me that makes people think I am gay.
Sure, I’m only 5′ 6″ and weigh 130 pounds; am shy around girls and display undue reverence towards alpha males and older men – but that doesn’t mean I’m gay, does it?
Yeah, okay, I admit it — I am a compulsive masturbator and some of my fantasies involve men’s dicks, but that doesn’t automatically make me gay, right?
No, not at all. Yes, I am a little on the kinky side – ever since puberty I have what I guess is called a fetish — I have a fondness for women’s lingerie, but all that means is I might be a crossdresser, and as far as I know most crossdressers are not gay.
Okay, okay, yes, I do give my roommate Mike handjobs once or twice a day, but only because I have to, not because I want to. If I don’t do it, he’ll post online the photos and video he took of me when he spied on me wearing a pink negligee and matching panties. Now THAT would be humiliating!
Mike and I have been best friends since we were ten-years old. Maybe I have a faulty memory, but I swear the first few years I was the alpha male between us. I was the one who decided what we’d do after school and on weekends.
That all changed once we entered our mid-teens and grew into manhood. At least Mike grew into a man. I didn’t have much of a growth spurt and remained small and boyish looking.
He suddenly took charge in our friendship and I was an eager follower. Don’t get me wrong, there was nothing sexual about our friendship; Mike was a good-looking, horn-dog who would have dated the prettiest girls in our class if he hadn’t been as shy and insecure as me.
We were close all throughout high school and by the time we graduated we knew our families couldn’t afford to send us to college, so it seemed natural for us to get jobs and share an apartment.
Everything went well the first couple months or so before he made that video of me.
We treated each other with the same respect we always had. We shared the housework and cooking, and since Mike could pass for being twenty-one, he’d bring home the booze and we’d get sloshed together. I had managed to keep my lingerie fetish a secret from him but then I became careless.
I made an online purchase of five pairs of nylon panties that would be sent to our address. That works fine – I always get home before Mike anyway and check the mail. When the small plastic bag arrives, I’ll be there to retrieve it before Mike does. Okay, so far so good.
Allow me to digress…I guess the real problem is I don’t beat-off like normal guys do. I don’t stroke my dick, I never even touch it. You see, I wasn’t circumcised and discovered by accident how much more powerful my ejaculations are by grinding my dick into the mattress and cumming inside the foreskin. OH-MY-GOD — I was hooked for life!
Well, maybe that’s not the real problem…no, I guess the real problem came when I found out how wonderful my mother’s nylon panties felt when I wrapped them around my boner. Oh my God, I’d never felt anything like it!!
It seemed a natural progression from stroking myself with them to putting them on and grinding my dick into the mattress. Yessssss – I cannot describe the power of my orgasms that method has given me over the years!!
Getting back to the story at hand, so to speak, I got carried away one night and not only ordered five more pairs of nylon panties, but three sheer and sexy negligees, too. I couldn’t wait for that package to arrive!
About a week later Mike was in the kitchen, it was his turn to make dinner; I was on the sofa having a drink.
Our doorbell sounded and Mike called out, “I’ll get it.” I heard him greet our landlord, Mister Hopper, then a muffled exchange between them. When Mike walked into the living room he had a huge smile on his face and was softly chuckling.
“What’s so funny?” I asked him.
“This is,” he replied showing me a large plastic bag.
I recognized the logo on the package. Icy chills raced up and down my spine. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight. I became paralyzed with embarrassment.
“This wouldn’t fit in our mailbox and Mister Hopper signed for it,” he said still smiling.
I was at a loss for words. All I could manage to say was, “Uhhh, okay, what is it?”
“Well, it’s from ‘Adore Me’ lingerie, and it has your name on it!” he said with that damn smirk still plastered on his face.
This time I had a quick answer: “Oh good, you know the cotton briefs I wear? I order them online from that company!”
“Sure is a big package for a few pairs of undies!” he remarked.
I hopped up and snatched the bag from him. “I’ll go put these away,” I said and hurried into my bedroom.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as I buried them in a box in my closet. All I knew was this could be bad — very, very bad! I’d die if Mike found out my dirty secret.
Mike was online when I returned to the living room. The moment I sat down, Escort bursa he said, “This is real interesting, Johnny…”
I cringed when he said ‘Johnny,’ he hasn’t called me that since I told him years ago I didn’t like that name.
“Oh, why?” I asked him nonchalantly.
“On your companies website they don’t mention a thing about selling men’s underwear — they only sell for women!” he said. “What’s really in the bag, Johnny? Did you buy women’s underwear from them?”
My face burned red. “MIKE, what the hell are you talking about?” I protested.
“Johnny-Johnny-Johnny — you don’t have to be embarrassed with me…I don’t give a rats-ass what kind of undies you wear — that’s strictly YOUR business!” he said sympathetically.
I stammered, “Nooooo, really…I uhhhh…”
“Johnny, we’ve been best friends forever, we’ve always told each other the truth so please don’t insult me now by lying to me — we tell each other everything – did you or did you not buy women’s panties?” he softly asked me.
He wasn’t even looking at me. He was busy typing something on the computer.
“Mike, please, let’s talk about something else, okay?” I said trying to sound upbeat.
“No, I don’t think so…answer my question Johnny, do you or do you not love to wear women’s panties?” he said.
Huh? What? He changed the wording to make it sound dirtier than before. I couldn’t bring myself to answer that question.
“JOHNNY — come over here and look at what I’m doing!” he said loudly.
I sighed in resignation. I stood behind him and read the screen. He was about to send an email. Again, the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight. The email was addressed to all of our friends, and oh-oh, to my family, too.
The subject line read: “Johnny is a Sissyboy-Crossdresser.” My heart skipped a beat. The text of the email read: “Did you know Johnny LOVES to wear women’s PANTIES???? Please forward this email to ALL of our friends and classmates!!”
In a small and pitiful voice I pleaded, “Please don’t send this Mike, please don’t do this…”
He said in an even voice, “Answer my question and I won’t send this — do you or do you not love wearing women’s panties?”
Oh God, again with that language.
“Okay, here goes…: he said then maneuvered the cursor over ‘Send.’
“Okay, okay, okay–I like women’s panties!” I blurted out to stop him from sending the email.
“That wasn’t the question—tell me what I want to hear right now or else!”
“Oh God,” I muttered beneath my breath, “Yes, I love wearing women’s panties…there I said it, are you happy now!”
“That’s a start,” he said.
“W-What do you mean?” I asked him.
“Go to your room and bring me that package!” he said forcefully.
“Mike, please…so I’m a little kinky — so what?” I said.
“BRING ME THE PACKAGE!!” he shouted.
There was no way out and I knew it. I even asked myself ‘Why would it be so bad if he knows I like women’s undies? I mean, it’s just a silly fetish, right? It’s not like I’m gay or anything.’ But I knew I wouldn’t be able to face my family and friends if they found out my dirty little secret so I reluctantly retrieved the package from my room.
Mike snatched it from me and violently tore it open until the contents lay strewn about on the floor near his feet.
“Oooooooo,” he said in a girly, falsetto voice, “look at Johnny’s pretty panties!”
My face burned red listening to his laughter. He and I are long-time best friends. We know embarrassing secrets about each others lives, but we have never betrayed one another like he was doing now. I had a bad feeling about this but hoped this would be just another secret between Mike and me.
Mike became quiet and continued staring at the panties on the floor.
I stammered, “Mike, uh, well, uh…okay, I admit it…yes, I have a, well, I guess I have a thing about panties — I can’t help it! It’s nothing weird or perverted — I don’t wear the damn things — I just use them to, uh, you know…”
“To jerk-off with?” he said with that smirk still on his face.
I was so embarrassed tears welled in my eyes. “M-M-Mike, this is strictly between you and me, right? You’re not going to say anything to anyone about this, right?”
It was the longest, tortured silence of my life. I was hoping for reassurance he would keep my secret. Instead, his response sent an icy chill racing up and down my spine.
“Well Johnny, I don’t know…what’s in it for me?” he asked.
Huh? “W-What do you mean?” I asked.
“If I keep your secret, what do I get in return?” he asked with that damned smirk still on his face.
HUH? “What do you want?” I asked him,
He chuckled and said, “Thank you for asking — first off, you’re going to take off your clothes and model the panties for me — all five pairs!”
“Mike, I can’t do that!” I protested blushing a deep red. “C’mon, what else do you want?”
His smile disappeared. The narrow slits of his eyes bore a hole Antalya escort in my skull.
“Either model the panties for me, Johnny, or your perverted little secret is going viral—I’ll give you until the count of ten…” he said.
He stooped over, picked up a pair of pink panties, tossed them at me and said, “Put these on!”
“Mike, you’re joking, right? C’mon man, we’re friends!” I pleaded.
He’s bluffing! We’re best friends — he’d never humiliate me like this!
I tore off my clothes as fast as I could. I slid the panties up my legs in place and my worst fear happened: the soft, sensuous nylon material hugging my dick and balls caused me to spring a boner like it always did before. My stiff little prick tented-out the crotch of the sheer panties.
I heard clicking sounds and looked up and saw Mike aiming his cell phone at me taking photos. OH-MY-GOD!!
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” I shrieked at him.
He lowered his phone and gave me a glare that sent chills up my spine. “Okay, NEXT PAIR — put on the red ones!”
When I didn’t move he began to count again.
I grudgingly posed for him wearing all five pairs of the sheer and diaphanous nylon panties while he snapped embarrassing photo-after-photo. My life was over – it was flashing before my eyes and it wasn’t pretty.
My imagination ran wild with horrible thoughts of what my friends and family would say if they ever laid eyes on these photos.
When it was over and I quickly shoved the last pair of panties down my legs and pulled up my cotton briefs, I decided it was time to speak up.
“Mike…what are you going to do with the pictures? You’re not going to show them to anyone, right? C’mon man, we’re best friends!”
He calmly said, “I’m not sure what I’ll do with them — probably nothing…”
A sigh of relief escaped my mouth but the dreamy, far-off expression on his face worried me.
“I never realized how pretty you are, Johnny,” he softly said to me.
Huh? WHAT? “Mike, please…” I stammered. “You had your fun — c’mon, let’s go out and have a nice dinner, okay?”
I scrambled to find my discarded blue jeans and as I pulled them up my legs, Mike startled me by shouting: “STOP RIGHT THERE!!”
I had never heard him so forceful – every nerve-ending in my body snapped, crackled and popped.
“Drop the jeans to the floor and step out of them!” he firmly said to me.
“M-Mike, this is ridiculous — c’mon man, what’s going on here?” I fearfully asked him.
Instead of answering me he stooped over and plucked-up the yellow nylon panties I had just posed in. He openly displayed the silver-dollar-sized, pre-cum stain my dick had made thru the front of the panties then abruptly tossed them at me.
“Yes, you’re a very pretty boy, Johnny, put the panties back on…”
“Mike, don’t say that – c’mon, this is getting weird — let’s go have dinner!”
“Yes, you’re like a pretty little doll — I don’t know why I didn’t see that until now…put on your panties, Johnny!”
I searched his eyes for a sign he was joking but saw nothing but extreme desire in his lust-fueled stare. My blood began to boil.
My God, he’s serious, isn’t he?
I did my best to remain calm. “We are not queer, Mike, we’re best friends and that’s all there is between us!”
Uh-oh, I saw the vein in his forehead begin to bulge and twitch – that only happens when he gets v-e-r-y angry!
Mike hovered above the computer where the threatening email was still on the screen and said, “I’ll give you to the count of five to put your panties back on – ONE — TWO — THREE—”
The moment I pulled the panties up in place the sheer and sensuous material again caused my dick to stiffen. I sighed in resignation. I could not hide the pre-cum stain on the front of the panties which was growing larger and wetter.
I dared a quick glance at Mike and the odd expression on his face frightened me. His eyes were riveted to my throbbing prick and swollen balls trapped inside the tight panties.
Standing before my best friend with my hard-on tenting-out see-thru, yellow panties brought tears to my eyes. Our friendship will never be the same — how can it be? He will never consider me his equal again. I could feel my self-respect and confidence slowly ooze from my trembling body.
What is he going to use the photos for? Why does he even want them? The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight — abject fear seized control of my foggy brain.
I know my best friend very well and yes, he sometimes scares me. He’s very skilled at getting what he wants. If he doesn’t dazzle you with brilliance — he’ll baffle you with bullshit. If neither of those works he’ll use verbal intimidation.
No-no, he’s never threatened me with physical confrontation, no, instead he wears me down with incessant whining and complaining. Manavgat escort bayan I give into him 9-out-of-10 times just to keep peace in the apartment.
Now here I am standing before my best friend wearing nothing but see-thru, yellow panties sporting a raging boner straining against the thin material. My heart pounding with nervous unease waiting for him to tell me what price I’ll have to pay to get those photos from him and to stop him from telling everyone we know about my kinky fetish.
“You know, Johnny, that tiny dick of yours looks awfully uncomfortable trapped inside those little panties – I’m going to let you jerk-off in front of me to relieve the pressure in your balls!” he said.
Huh? What? My face turned ashen gray. Did I hear him correctly?
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head over anything — I’m only videoing from your chest down below — no one can see your face! Now grab your dick thru the panties and start stroking it, sissyboy!” he forcefully ordered me.
Did he just call me a ‘sissy’? In an instant my face went from white to beet red.
I asked myself: John, does it really matter if he tells everyone your dirty little secret?
My trembling and shaking body answered my own question — YES, it does matter!! I’d simply die if my friends saw the photos!
In a dreamlike state, my hand reached down and grasped my boner thru the sheer material of the nylon panties.
“That’s a good little boy, Johnny,” he said in a voice thick with condescension and contempt.
I couldn’t look at his smug face as he approached me. He whispered in my ear and my eyes bulged open. Oh my God, he’s got to be kidding, right?
Mike wouldn’t let me change out of my semen-soaked panties before he played the video of me jerking-off. No, he wanted to shame me into complete submission.
“Oh no,” I suddenly said to him watching the video. “WHAT THE HELL, MAN – you promised not to show my face — everyone can see it’s me – you promised!!”
His two-word answer sent icy chills racing up-and-down my spine. “I lied.”
That wasn’t the only shock. The audio was on too. I could clearly hear my moans and groans of pleasure while my hand worked faster and harder on my boner.
Oh nooooooooooo…it all made sense now. The nasty things he wanted me to say while I diddled myself, but worst of all was what he made me shout when I climaxed:
I was numb with shock while Mike sat at the computer pounding on the keyboard.
How could I have done those things? How could I have been so naive? I screwed myself good — all I can do is wait and see what my best friend of fifteen-years wants from me. It can’t be that bad, can it?
He stepped away from the computer and said, “I added the video to the file with all your underwear photos…if you make me send it to your family and all our friends I don’t know how you’ll ever be able to face anyone ever again!?”
Huh? What? ‘If I MAKE him send it???
“…you’ll probably have to move to another city after people watch it — your life will be over here!”
Ohhhh-God — he’s right!!
He had stepped away from me but in my peripheral vision I saw him unbuttoning and removing his shirt. Strangely, he didn’t stop there. With a slight grin on his face, he opened his slacks and lowered the zipper.
I snapped at him, “What the hell do you think you’re doing? WE ARE NOT GAY!!”
“Of course I’m not gay — I’m not the one who’s going to be playing with another guys dick!” he said. His impish grin was now a full-fledged, arrogant smile.
HUH? What did he mean by THAT?? Uhhhh, nooooooooo…
When he stepped out of the slacks I saw a prominent bulge jutting out the crotch of his boxers. My whole body trembled and shook. I was overcome with a fear so strong I could taste it!
“Come over here, Johnny!” he said to me.
When I didn’t move a muscle he sadly shook his head and said, “Why do you want to make this so difficult on yourself? I don’t want to have to email that file but I will, besides, you and I both know you’ll end up doing what I tell you to do anyway!”
And there it was…the final nail in my coffin, so to speak. He was right — eventually I ALWAYS break down and do what he says – Why is that?
I slowly walked to him and stood before him on pins-and-needles nervously awaiting his next command.
He patted my head, smiled at me and said, “Reach your hands inside my shorts and play with my cock and balls!”
The first week of our new ‘arrangement’ was as I expected — all one way — his way!
He would have me masturbate him in the morning, afternoon and at bedtime. He on the other hand, never once touched my hard prick without panties wrapped around it. I didn’t mind — I LOVE spurting into the delicious nylon material!
One night after I made him cum, I surprised him by staying in his bed. I had always gone back to my own room once I’d satisfied him.
“Uhhhh, what are you doing?” he asked me.
“If you get a hard-on in the middle of the night I want to be here to take care of it for you,” I innocently said. “Don’t you want that too?”
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