Sarah didn’t start out as Sarah. At first, she was “Steve” and she was a mess! Sarah wanted to be a sissy cocksucker more than almost anything in the world, but she had absolutely no idea how to go about becoming one. She thought all she had to do was pop on a wig, slip into a mini skirt and some mary-janes and go prance around near a gay bar. Poor dear.

I picked her up one night in one of my favorite hangouts; she’d been terrorizing the gay bois since she’d gotten there, coming onto them in all the wrong ways, trying so freaking hard to get laid… It was both pathetic and amusing. If only she were into public humiliation, she’d have been having the time of her life. (That would come later…)

She was chatting up a friend of mine, leaning on his arm and trying to convince him to let her suck him off when I swooped in to rescue him from the attentions of this seemingly half-wit sissy. “Darling, if you really want to suck a cock, you’re going about it ~all wrong.~ For one thing, your makeup is a fright, you look like a cheap hooker and the aroma of desperation clinging to you is Not Sexy At All.”

I think she wanted to scratch my eyes out at first, but I’ve won more catfights than she’d even dreamed of, so she backed down real fast. The downcast look on her face, the slump to her shoulders and the disspirited sigh all combined to tweak my sadistic little heartstrings. Plus, I was on the lookout for a suitable sissy wanna be for a bet I had going with my pal Simone.

I decided to take this little ragamuffin sissy under my wing and turn her into the biggest cocksucking sissy whore on the Gulf coast. The rest, as they say, is history.