"UNBUTTON YOUR SHIRT AND OPEN YOUR SLACKS, YOU LITTLE WORM!!" she screamed in my ear.
I stood there stunned; frozen in place.
I couldn't believe the abrupt change in Mrs. Nelson's demeanor. The normally sweet, good-natured woman had never made even the slightest derogatory comment to me, and she certainly never raised her voice when she reprimanded me for mistakes in the workplace.
My trembling fingers finally opened the top button of my shirt. Her hands went to my belt and unbuckled it. I tried to push her hands away.
"Listen boy," she hissed in my ear. "If you don't move faster, I WILL call Security, and they WILL strip-search you, and they WILL check your rectum for stolen items---IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT, MAGGOT?"
My eyes bugged wide, and my face turned white as snow. Life as I knew it was over; I could never be the same after this.
"No---please, Mrs. Nelson---no...." was all I could say.
My hands worked faster on the buttons. I made no move to stop her from opening my slacks.
When I'd undone the last button, she immediately pushed the shirt off my shoulders and forced my arms thru the sleeves. She tossed the discarded shirt on the floor behind us.
"My Goodness! What have we here?" she gasped when she saw the red babydoll nightie and lace brassiere I was wearing.
I felt her fingers on the zipper of the slacks. She pressed her hand against my now-flaccid prick as she unzipped my pants. Once they were open, she forcibly pushed the slacks down my legs to the floor.
She turned me so I was facing her. She was a couple inches taller than me and I watched her eyes roam up-and-down my body. A strange grin spread across her handsome face. I was sure she'd been a very beautiful woman not that long ago.
"My-my---I knew you were a panty-boy, but all this? You're quite the little sissy-boy, aren't you?" she said.
The hard stare from her dark brown eyes scared the heck out of me. I remained silent.
"I asked you a question---I expect to hear an answer...ARE YOU A SISSY-BOY?"
A single teardrop escaped my eye and rolled down my cheek. There was no denying it. I was wearing all the proof she needed.
"Yes, Mrs. Nelson...I---I am a sissy-boy...."
"Oh my..." she said, stroking my smooth, nylon-clad legs, "...and a hairless little sissy-boy, as well."
Her hand began stroking my buttocks. My prick rose to its full-length, tenting-out the panties.
"Heh-heh-heh..." she chuckled as she cast her eyes on my buttocks. "Is that a butt-plug in your ass? You have a lover, don't you? Tell me sissy-boy, did your lover make you wear the butt-plug today?"
My face went from ashen to glowing red. I was frightened out of my mind. I had no idea what she was going to do to me, but I figured if I was honest, and answered her questions truthfully, things might go easier for me.
"Y-Yes, Mrs. Nelson...my lover made me wear the butt-plug today."
Suddenly her fingers dove into the panties and wrapped themselves around my erection. She gave it a squeeze and slowly stroked it. I couldn't help but moan.
"I'm going to guess that your lover is a man, sissy-boy, no girl or woman would want a tiny penis like this inside her---it's more like a clitoris than a penis...is your lover a man, sissy-boy?"
I lowered my eyes and bit my lip then said, "No-no---of course not---my lover is a woman!"
How could I tell her the truth when I refused to accept it myself?
She removed her hand from inside the panties. She took my dick in her hand thru the sheer material, and stroked it slowly. Her hand was skillful, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I could feel cum churning in my balls.
"Look at me, dear," she said softly.
I stared at her thru my watery eyes.
"Don't ever lie to me, boy...now, I'll ask you one more time: Is your lover a man?" she asked.
How did she know I was lying to her? Do I have the word 'GAY' stamped on my forehead?
My whole body suddenly shook. There was no way out of this---I would have to admit to her what kind of boy I am.
"I, uh...yes, Mrs. Nelson, my lover is a man," I said softly, unable to look her in the eyes.
"And you're his bitch, right boy?" she said with a strong emphasis on the word 'bitch.'
"I...uh...oh, uh...I guess so," I said defeated; a single tear drop rolled down my cheek.
Her hand was driving me crazy.
"So that makes you a faggot, huh?"
I blushed red and shook my head.
"No-no---I'm not like that at all!"
"Have you held his hard penis in your hands and masturbated him to climax?"
"Y-Yes...." I said, wondering how she knew I did that for Danny.
"YES WHAT, BOY?" she screamed.
"Y-Yes, Mrs. Nelson, I've masturbated his hard penis to climax."
"Have you taken his penis in your mouth? Have you sucked his cock, boy?" she said thru snarled lips.
I choked back a sob; hearing myself say these things out loud was surreal. "Yes, maam, I've sucked his cock."
"Has he cum in your mouth? Have you swallowed his cum?" her tone had softened; she stroked my hair with her other hand like a mother comforting her little boy.
In the meantime, her fingers on my dick were driving me crazy. I began moving my hips in rhythm with her hand. My prick was pulsating; my balls ached.
"Y-Yes, Mrs. Nelson...I have swallowed his cum...." I sadly admitted to her.
"So boy, sucking his cock and swallowing his load sure sounds like something a faggot would do...admit it boy, tell me you are a cock-sucking, cum-swallowing faggot? SAY IT OUT LOUD, BOY!"
The intensity was too much---I broke down and cried.
"Y-Yes, Mrs. Nelson...I am a cock-sucking, cum-swallowing faggot...I'm sorry---I'm sorry I'm a faggot!"
"Sweetie..." she said calmly, "...never be sorry for who you are...a boy like you must learn to accept who he is...pure and simple: you were born to love men's cocks---the sooner you accept that fact and embrace it---the sooner you will be happy with your life!"
Mrs. Nelson removed her hand from my prick. My own hand instinctively replaced hers. I was desperate to cum. I began stroking my prick right in front of her.
She slapped my hand away and said in an even tone of voice: "Your man needs to teach you some manners---and self-control!"
She pulled open the front of the panties, her hand dived inside and held my balls. She fingered the chain and lock on my scrotum.
"Dear, you can stroke your tiny dick all you want but you'll never be able to cum...your man made sure of that by wrapping your ball sac the way he did---your little hamster-balls will not be able to contract---you're not going to have an orgasm as long as you're wearing that chain!"
HUH? WHAT DID SHE SAY? THAT CAN'T BE RIGHT!
She returned behind the desk. She grabbed the envelope with my paycheck and placed it in the middle desk drawer. She brought out of the drawer a piece of paper.