feminized-bi
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Feminized Bi

Feminized Bi

by mvp6
19 min read
3.99 (11500 views)
adultfiction
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Feminized (bi)

"So you're Markie?" It sounded like a little boy's name the way he said it.

He was one of my wife's ex boyfriends and while my name was Mark I failed to correct him.

"Well don't just stand out there!" He let the door swing wide and just turned away.Β He wasn't taller than me, nor more muscular, nor even more handsome. What had she seen in him? I couldn't believe she still talked him up.

I followed Chet inside, not really knowing what to expect. Maddie's complaints about my passive nature had escalated over the last few months. She had changed and when she blurted out impulsively that I should take "man" lessons from her ex, I agreed.Β If this would help with her recent mood swings and general unhinged behavior I would do it.

She hadn't been serious until I said I would take the "lessons". But despite her shocked expression she decided it was a good idea after all. I would do anything to keep her so the decision was made. I called Chet and here I was at his house.Β What kind of a stupid name is Chet? Furthermore, the fact that once his dick had been in my wife's slim body wasn't the only reason to dislike him.

Sitting on the couch, while I stood awkwardly, he proclaimed it more than he asked, "So you're Maddie's new guy?" I nodded, looking around the typically messy single guy's place curiously. So this was the place of the guy before me? I'm an engineer and he's a salesman and it was easy to see that my income must be higher than his.

"You know she's a walking contradiction? Is she still bleached blonde with perky little tits?" He shouldn't talk about her that way. Sure, the platinum hair had gotten dry and unhealthy, but she was growing it out. And I loved her tiny tits despite how insecure she felt about them.

He went on gulping his beer between observations, "She wants a man's man. But then she pushes you around till you either cave or dump her. I caved for a month before I grew a pair." He laughed incomprehensibly, "Markie, change the channel to the other game. Get yourself a drink. And get back here to start your lessons."

I did what I was told then waited expectantly. Finally, looking up from the game, it was as if he noticed me for the first time, "Ok, hold your hands straight out and don't move them. If you drop your arms you'll have to take off your pants." I perceived it to be a relatively easy test of manliness. A place to start in my training.

But if I lost, well, that would be embarrassing. Not only because of the socially inappropriate exposure, but because if he was more endowed he might judge me.

Five seconds in and I was anticipating victory. Maybe thirty seconds later my arms were getting tired. How long was I supposed to do this? I figured ten minutes was fair.

I watched the clock on the wall, a minute in and it started to hurt. This was embarrassing in itself. No wonder Maddie doubted my masculinity. Another agonizing minute and the burning pain seemed unbearable. What kind of man can't even support the weight of his own arms for less than three minutes?

My arms would dip down, then I would force them back up only to find I didn't have it in me. Far too soon they fell to my side, "I give up! I can't do it."

Chet was totally engrossed by the game on tv until I cleared my throat. He looked up, disinterested, "Oh, ok, take off your pants."

I stood there in my shirt, underwear, and socks for, like, 15 minutes while he just watched tv. "Hey, Chet, how about another test?"

"A test? Is that what that was?" He gave a sigh, "Go downstairs, into the shop, grab a tape measure, come back here, and measure your balls."

I was so relieved he didn't say I had to measure my penis. So I trotted down to get it, only to return with a question: just how does one measure balls?

I was also going to have to take off my underwear to do it. So much for modesty. On the other hand, I have some good balls.

Standing in her ex's living room, I used the ruler to determine that my lowest testicle hung down four inches, the other one hung down three, each nut had a diameter of one and a half inches, and the circumference of my total nut sack was an impressive nine inches. "I'm ready."

He looked up, no doubt to examine my balls. Ostensibly to show them off, I lifted them up and out. Really, my intent was to surreptitiously

cover my wiener with my hands. I recited my measurements as I did it.

A smirk overtook his face, "You definitely need to grow a pair. You think those are a man's rocks?" Recklessly, he pulled off his own shorts, "Now look at these nads. This is what it looks like when you grow a pair."

I didn't think his balls looked much different than mine. But, soft, I guessed his cock WOULD grow bigger, and I felt both self-conscious and inferior.

"They're better. Admit it."

"I, I don't know. They look pretty normal."

"So just how certain are you of that?"

I wasn't at all certain. I'm never really certain about anything in life. So I faked it, "I think mine and yours are about the same."

"Care for a wager? And how should we decide?"

Now he had me backed into a corner. "Sure, why not? Circumference."

Chet leaned back deeper into the couch spreading his legs wider. After a long nervous minute he kinda gestured to his bollocks, "You've got the tape measure."

I stepped closer, "Wait!" He ordered.

I froze.

"We didn't decide what happens when you lose."

"Oh, I don't know. You decide."

"Fine, if you insist. If you lose it'll mean you need to grow your balls. So logically... you're logical, right? So logically, if they need to grow you have to wear a weight to make 'em bigger. And, of course, if you're not the manly one then you'll wear an old dress Maddie left here when she moved out. Unless you're afraid?"

"Um, ok." He pushed the coffee table with his foot and it skidded out of my way. He spread his legs wider so it would be easy for me to take the measurement and win this wager.

I was reluctant to handle his balls as much as I would need to in order to measure the distance around. They looked kinda sweaty. And to touch a guys testicles felt kind of homoerotic. But I couldn't let HIM measure them, he might cheat.

"Markie, you've got a lot to learn. So how low do they hang?"

For that I wouldn't have to touch them at all. I placed the end of the measure at the base of his cock and checked to see how far down they went. When I was repositioning it for accuracy my fingers did brush up against his orbs. They were smooth, and hot, and not sweaty at all - really not so bad. I muttered, "Four inches."

"Alright, the circumference now, Markie."

I had to hold them up to get the tape around them. I had never thought about how much balls weigh - they seemed heavy. I was disappointed, "Nine and one quarter inches."

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"Are you sure you've lost? Here, stand up, let me double check yours."

Maybe I HAD measured wrong. So I stood. I would either still be a loser or my fate would turn around.

Wrapping his hand fully around them he grabbed my nuts boldly and measured, "No, you were right, nine inches. A very impressive circumference. I'm sure it's more than average. And that's a pretty nice looking cock you've got there. I bet you can hit all the right places with that."

By the time he was done I felt great about my balls, my cock, and my skill in using it.

"Ok, now off to the closet. You'll find something in there. Then look around in to kitchen to make a ball weight, you know, string and stuff."

In the back of the closet there were six or seven items that were in her size. Slutty things. Slutty beyond anything I'd ever seen her wear. The least objectionable for me to wear was a devil Halloween costume. At least it wasn't crotchless lingerie and it covered everything.

So it consisted of a short red bodycon dress, high heel boots, a black wig, horns, and a trident. When I put it all on I learned it included built in pads to create very large boobs and that the boots wouldn't fit. I carried the spear-like trident with me in the name of thoroughness.

On my way to the kitchen Chet whistled, "You wear it as well as Maddie did. But if you don't shave those legs it'll look atrocious." Strange how being complimented on how I wore a dress made me feel tingly.

I started rummaging around to make a weight for my clappers. The string was easy to find. It took awhile and some trial and error to figure out that I could tie a partially filled water bottle to my hanging sack to pull it down significantly lower. The pleasant pulling focused all my sensations in my hanging eggs.

I waddled over to the bathroom and shaved. Not that I had to, but if you're gonna do something it's worth doing it right. Besides, I sorta wanted to be appreciated even more.

Back in the living room, Chet asked, "So why did you pay the bet? You could have just left?"

"It wouldn't have been right. To lose a bet then skip out."

"So you have honor. That makes you better than most men out there. You know what else? Now that you shaved your legs, you understand your wife better than other men understand theirs: the pain they go through for us."

I was beginning to get what he was saying. With him relaxing and me nervous and in a sexy dress, he started a long exposition, "Ok I'm gonna explain what you've learned so far. If you agree that the lessons have been worth every humiliation then you will voluntarilly submit to more lessons. Lessons that, even if embarrassing, will be designed for your own good."

He continued, "Now I'm no tyrant. If you don't think it's been worth it so far then you can leave with the full knowlege that you have integrity."

Then he began his actual explanation, "When you first came in I sat comfortably while you stood awkwardly. Do you think that put you at a disadvantage?"

"Yes."

"That was a first lesson."

"When I said shit about YOUR wife. About her small tits. Did THAT unbalance you, put you at a disadvantage?"

I swallowed hard, "Yes."

"When I reminded you how she has the upper hand, then explained how I'd gotten free, didn't you want what I had!"

"Yes!"

"And because I had what you wanted you were willing to accept my first order: to get yourself a beer. A pleasant order, but still an order, which you obeyed and followed, which set you on a path for obeying more orders."

"Yea?"

"When I ignored you, you couldn't stand it and it was YOU who was begging me for attention?"

"Huh?"

"And when you held up your arms was there ever any way you, or anyone else, could win that contest?"

It made sense now, "No, no one could."

"Why do you think your loss meant you had to take your pants off? It could have been anything? Why not push ups?"

"I don't know."

"It created a trajectory. The rule is, 'Always have the end in mind'."

"Oh? Ooh."

"Then you had to measure your balls. Why?"

"A trajectory?"

"No. Because you need to grow a fuckin' pair and it's the best way to get you to see that. It's a stupid metaphor. And the dress was to prove that you're not a man."

"And the ball weight proves that too?"

"Nah. Other than the metaphor, that was just fun. I wanted to see if you would do it. But it never hurts to make your opponent go through a little pain. It hurts?"

"A bit."

"So, Markie, did you ever expect to be standing in my living room dressed up like Maddie?"

"Never."

"If you were to apply these lessons to Maddie, these and a few more, over time and with consistency, do you think you'd be able to get the upper hand?"

I saw his point like a flash of lighting. There was a glimmer of hope, and not at all for the reason I first went there. "Yes! Yes I do."

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"Then it's settled. You'll take more lessons and you won't disobey no matter how much you want to and no matter how little you understand."

"You know I will. You're a surprisingly great teacher. How'd you learn so much!"

"Sales. Speaking of sales, Markie, you also learned that you catch more flies with honey, the compliments made you agreeable, right?"

"And it didn't hurt my cause at all to build you up a bit, you don't always have to tear a person down you know."

"I guess not."

"Did you catch that you always have to remove obstacles from where you want a person to go and what you want them to do?"

"How was that?"

"If I had asked you to handle my jewels from the get go you might have refused, but I eased you into it. And if the coffee table had blocked your way, such a little thing, you might have changed your mind."

"I suppose."

"Another rule would be, 'Always remove obstacles from one path and create obstacles to another'."

"Now, Markie, that's such a pretty girl's name. And you look so hot in that red dress. Better than Maddie really. But she didn't wear it for you, did she? I think you need to take some pressure off your nuts. They must be aching by now. Come stand in front of me. And walk like Maddie - to understand her."

And they did ache. The stretch caused a nagging pressure that radiated up into my abdomen.

I went over, trying to sway like a woman, but in reality I hobbled, tossing the trident away. Waiting for him to loosen the weight I tried to stand like a pretty girl. "They look bigger already. Now, come on, darlin' get down and let that weight rest on the floor."

It was a good idea. If the weighted bottle were on the floor it would stop pulling. Once I was kneeling he put my hands on his knees. "I'm attracted to you, Markie. I didn't imagine I would be, but there in that wig and dress you're an amazing looking woman." I noticed his cock was thickening for me. And my nuts felt a ton better. I didn't even know I needed the relief until I felt it. I fretted on how they'd be real sore tomorrow.

"Markie, you still have a lot to learn. So trust me. There's more lessons here. For your own good. You promised you would obey." He looked from my lips to his cock. "So do it. It'll be easier than you think."

It was a living thing, that moved on its own sometimes. But more importantly it was another man's cock and then he dropped it in my hand. Wondering just how big the hot flesh would get, I started stroking it with considerable hesitation. Would it be five inches bigger than mine? Maybe four, or three? I was sure his would be at least two inches longer.

"Markie, you're a beautiful woman and it's ok for a woman, like Maddie, to do it, you know." It seemed wrong to think of Maddie that way. But other women...

Stroking that slowly engorging member I started pondering the whole chicken and egg thing. Did having a big cock make him more dominant? Or somehow did him being more manly affect his testosterone so that he grew a bigger cock?

"Markie, darlin'?"

I shook myself free from my reverie, "Yes, sir?" I really enjoyed the coy grin he gave back to me.

"You're too strong for these delaying tactics. Just get on with it. Why, I bet you'll be better than Maddie at it."

But it was still mostly soft, and not yet hard? There was a drop on the end so I wiped it off, drying my hand on my dress. Hearing him say the word 'bet' I leaped at it, "Like double or nothing?"

"No, you need to suck it. It's not an idle exercise. It's a lesson. But I'll tell you what, if you're better at it than Maddie, when you come back tomorrow you will have earned a massage." He placed his hands on my shoulders as he said it, "I can feel some pretty tight muscles here."

"Uh, ok a massage. If I win I'll..."

I would have finished that thought but he pulled on my shoulders bringing my head down. I felt panicked so I dodged his cock but only ended up with my lips pressed to Chet's nine and one quarter inch ball sack.

They weren't sweaty. Though they DID seem so much larger from this close. And while my whole evasion tactic had been to avoid his cock it fell down anyway, draped over my nose.

"Let your tongue out, girl. Just poke the tip through your pretty lips like every other pretty woman."

I held my lips tightly pursed. But then forced just the tip of my tongue out. It touched his sack and nothing happened. I wasn't suddenly a flaming queer. I didn't instantly turn into a cocksucker.

"Nicely done, beautiful. It'll be easy to lick them now. You'll feel so accomplished if you do a good job."

Was this the point of the lesson - to feel accomplished? I opened my lips wide so I could bathe those big plums with my wet tongue. I imagined how good it felt for him, which wasn't hard the way he squirmed in pleasure. I literally felt his calves flexing while his feet were so antsy down below me. I wanted it for myself someday. But for the time being I would have to live vicariously.

I tried out long swipes, circular licks, getting into the crevices, and made sure to give each testicle some individual attention. He loved it all. So when he said, "It'll make me real happy if you lick up from the base to my mushroom head." I wanted to make him happy.

By now that seemed like no big deal, but then I imagined the leaky head deep inside my mouth and yet again my fears arose.

"Markie! Just lick up from the base. You want to be a real man, don't you? To get what a man gets from Maddie?"

Maddie wanted me to have more muscles. More confidence. To be more decisive. Chet wasn't offering any of that... except that I already felt more confident. And he was urging me right now to be decisive - maybe? And when he put one of my hands on his testicles, asking me to caress them, I did it without thinking.

Oh fuck it! I'm strong enough to suck a cock. Even what was sure to be a big one like Chet's. I wiped the wetness off the tip again. Then steeling myself, I stuck my tongue way out, rubbing it on his shaft just above his now spitslick balls. Forcing myself, I threw everything into the lewd activity, rising up on my knees in order to trace a wet path all the way to the top.

And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. The ache that had previously been in my elongated nutsack returned with a vengeance. No longer just discomfort it was now out and out pain. Did the bottle suddenly get ten pounds heavier?

I tried to pull back, to look. But Chet had his hands firmly wrapped up in the wig on my head, and he held me in place. "Hurts huh? I guess my foot is kinda on the weight." The grin on his face was devious. "Push through it. You gotta fight for what you want. THIS is how you become a real man. No pain, no gain. Learn to face adversity, girl."

I was so confused. Man, girl. Mark, Markie. Was I a pussy fucker or a cock sucker? I didn't know.

"It's for your own good. It's a small thing for such a big gain." Saying that he rolled the bottle gently with his foot, "When you're used to it, and you expect it, it feels good, right? It's a good pain that's gonna make your orgasm so much better."

I hadn't imagined that I was going to cum as part of this. This was to help me. He wasn't selfish. And upon reflection, the pain did kinda feel good?

Chet pulled on my head as he pushed on the bottle. It wasn't too much - the string tied around my testis gave me a slow stretch. I looked at his cockhead. It didn't look too bad. And then it was partly between my lips. There was some wetness there and, honestly, it didn't taste like honey or even good. But he still made me do it.

A moment later and that bulb was pushing into me. I felt the ridge pass my lips. I didn't know it was going to be so fat, that I was going to have to open so wide.

Then the downward tug on my nuts stopped, "Is that better? Now jerk yourself." It WAS better. I moved my other hand to my cock. Only now I couldn't support myself. The only reason my head didn't fall forward, impaling me, was his hands holding me back.

Chet pulled my head up and down on what was still a dangerous semi-hard spear. Next he wormed the whole thing into my mouth so the squishy sponge filled me up, seemingly squeezing into every available space.

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