Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
*
I was caught. The excitement of doing something naughty combined with the potential of being caught reaches a fever pitch when you actually are caught, because it's both what you dreaded with every fiber of your being, but also of course secretly wanted. That's the line you tread, like a tightrope walker, wavering in the wind, every thought activated to the task at hand. And then to be caught is to fall off the tightrope, and that feeling of knowing you're going down is both a blissful and terrifying feeling of release.
My younger brother's friend Patrick stood in the doorway of my bedroom, frozen. I was spreadeagled on my bed, dressed up in my sister's clothes (which I had secretly pilfered) and a blonde wig. Under my sister's stolen skirt, I was rubbing my dick, and there was a butt plug in my ass. For awhile now, I had been experimenting with cross-dressing for a variety of reasons. I had an ass that most of my girlfriends had been jealous of, pale white with lots of jiggle to it. The rest of my body was curvy, soft, and not very masculine at all. I hadn't grown much hair ever, and even my nipples, protruding from my slightly rounded chest, had a touch of pink to them. Cross-dressing felt like a way to look at my body in the way it demanded to be looked at.
Upon seeing Patrick, however, I quickly grabbed my blanket and pulled it over my body, the initial thrill now descending into reason, as I thought about consequences: would he tell my brother? Other friends of his? What a weirdo I was? We both stared at each other for a moment more, him in shock at what he had seen, and me completely flustered.
"Sorry, didn't know you were home, Alex" he said, then wheeled around and left, closing the door.
I lay under my blankets for I didn't know how long, my mind racing. Then I heard a quiet knock on the door. Pulling my sister's panties and little miniskirt up, as well as shuffling on a cardigan, I approached the door, not really knowing what was happening. It felt like a dream. I looked in the mirror, realizing I was still wearing the wig, removed it, saw I looked even stranger, so put it back on. Then another knock sounded, more urgently, and I opened the door.
Patrick stood there, still a little red-faced but with a somewhat calmer expression on his face. He was what I would call a normal bro, the same age as my brother, nineteen, a few years younger than me, though he was taller. Somehow, after only seeming to consume Mountain Dew, energy drinks, and chips at our place, he was still thin and wiry, rocking that teenage boy metabolism. His hair was brown and wavy in the style of a skater kid from the 90's. I'd never interacted with him much, but he seemed like a normal bro. He mostly came over to our parents' house to play video games, with my brother and him making stupid jokes that I could hear far too much of from my room down below.
"Sorry to barge in like that..." he murmured, not making eye contact with me.
"It's OK, sorry if what you saw was confusing, I just—"
Patrick seized immediately on that word for some reason: "Confusing! Yes, confusing is the right word. Like, are you? Sorry, I don't know how to ask, like how to phrase it. But I just had some questions."
This was already getting intensely uncomfortable, and my mind was racing through ways to exit the conversation. I just wanted to hide back under my blankets.
"Is it OK if I ask?" he murmured, finally making eye contact.
I could only nod, the rest of my body frozen from awkwardness.
"Are you, like... a... slut?"
The last word shocked me, as I was expecting multiple other words in its place.
That shock produced a weird answer: "Well, do you want me to be?"
Patrick nodded. A silence overtook the both of us staring at each other, having expressed desires that were very difficult to speak. But the silence was powerful, like a sea had been parted, and eye contact was now much easier. I was staring deep into his eyes, and he was peering into mine, our brains both running through new possibilities.
Still intensely looking into his eyes, as if searching for any hesitation, I got down on my knees in front of him. Waiting for a moment, I didn't see but a flicker of hesitation, so I adjusted my stare to the crotch of Patrick's jeans, where I could perceive a distinctive bulge. On my knees, I edged closer to his crotch until my nose was right in front of it.
I put my nose to the bulge in his jeans, and smelled Patrick through it. The smell of another man's dick was completely unique to me. The pheromones rushed straight to my brain, and I felt intoxicated in a way I never had with a woman. I moved my hand up to his fly, as if by remote control.
"You like that, you nasty little bitch?" Patrick's tone jolted me slightly out of my dick delirium. It sounded like a teenage gamer who had watched too much bad porn, which he probably was, trying and failing to perform dirty talk, slightly nervous and over-exaggerated.
Thankfully, I had learned from experience the way girls respond to that kind of slightly silly dirty talk, so I cooed back up at him "I love it."
It was then that Patrick reached down and grabbed me by the chin, squeezing my cheeks hard.
"See, I don't want any of that fake bullshit whore. The girls with the magical cunts like my girlfriend can get away with that. That's pussy power. You're a cuntless slut who loves dick for no good reason. There's nothing for you to perform. Now I want you to beg for the dick."
The power dynamic had shifted tremendously in a matter of seconds. I was 5 years older than Patrick, and yet he was treating me like he was educating me or something.
"Please, please can I—" I started.
Patrick slapped me. "None of that fake bullshit Alex, like I already said you stupid bitch. Who are you fooling?"
What kind of porn had this dude been watching? I thought about standing up and putting an end to this act; it was getting annoying. But I couldn't forget the smell of him still lingering in my nostrils, and my brain still running slightly haywire. What else could he want, other than dirty talk from me?
"What do you want then, money or something?" I laughed.
"Good idea you stupid slut." With that, he popped the head of his cock out of his jeans, right in front of me.
The sight blew me away. The head of his cock was massive. He was uncut, and the skin around the pink centre of his cock only highlighted its deep colour. I knew straight guys lost their minds over the pinkness of teenage pussy, but here I was losing my mind over the pinkness of teenage cock. Even though it was just the head, I could see purple and pink veins already on the skin, snaking down into his boxers; a dick truly having just reached maturity for its purpose.
"Come on, give it a good whiff, get it over with," Patrick commanded.
There were no thoughts running through my head at this point. I just placed my nostrils at the head of his pink dick, and inhaled. Smelling him through his jeans, it was hard to describe what he smelled like; the pheromones seemed to overpower any scent and just translated it into pure substance, like a hallucinogen or something. But smelling the tip of his cock's head, I smelled dick. There was no pretty way to describe what I smelled. Yet I loved it.
Just as quickly though, Patrick pushed me off his cock, and tucked it back into his jeans.
"You really are a total slut. I want to see how deep that slut disease has spread its way across your soul. How far it has burrowed into your body. It's only then that we'll be able to draw it out. You need an exorcism. You want to see it again, maybe even touch it, taste?"
A "yes" escaped me. The gamer dude was surprisingly eloquent.
"Well you're in the position of need, I'm not really. Actually I'm kinda bored already. How about we strike a bargain, you pay me $25 for every inch of cock I give to you. There are some video games I've been meaning to buy."
I almost laughed out loud. But Patrick saw my reaction, and immediately turned around to leave. I grabbed him by the hip, surprised even at my own reflexes. I had obviously been teased into submission. In the moment, 25 dollars seemed like nothing compared to my object of desire.
