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Author’s Note: Long ago, I roleplayed a play-by-post erotic fantasy with a girl named Christine, who amazed me with her deviously humiliating responses. What follows is a reconstruction of the scenario we roleplayed, which has ever since remained a favorite erotic fantasy. Wherever you are now, Christine, i hope you’re enjoying powerful orgasms! You gave this burgeoning little sissy a fantasy i would masturbate over for years to cum…

All characters are 18 or over.


David didn’t want to attend ballet class, but his mother insisted that he would if he wanted to go on living under her roof rent-free. She turned off the TV one day right as he was about to fight an end boss and said, “I’m not about to let you spend an entire year sitting on the couch with your PlayStation.” She had filled out an online application from the local community college and submitted it on his behalf.

She had even gone so far as to purchase ballet tights for him, which was embarrassing enough, but as he was in the locker room changing into them, he learned to his horror that they were a girl’s leotard and tights. A stock photo of an attractive teen girl doing a pirouette on the leotard’s packaging smiled back at him as if bemused by his predicament. Yet he didn’t have anything else to wear, and class was starting in mere minutes.

He stumbled into the dance room a bit awkwardly, very much aware of how snug the leotard was as it stretched over his crotch, how it rode up between his taut, clenched buttocks. He looked at the others in the class – all girls, all of them lithe and athletic and extremely sexy in their tights to the young man – and he felt a warm rush of mingled shame and lust wash over him. Some of the girls looked at him and smirked, and he began to feel his tights growing even more snug.

Risking a quick glance down at his crotch, David realized with horror that he had sprung a very obvious erection which was now stretching out his leotard crotch, pitching a little tent and obscenely bobbing.

One of the smirking girls turned to her neighbor and murmured, “Boys, always making fools of themselves.” It was said just loud enough that David could hear her, and he awkwardly cupped his hands over his leotard-clad bulge. He could feel his face burning as he blushed.

The girl gave a little flick of her honey-gold ponytail and walked up next to where he stood by the mirrors and the barre. Watching him with an unnervingly unblinking stare, the girl lifted one graceful leg onto the barre and began to do her stretches. Each stretch gave him a generous view of her slim, perfectly toned teenaged body. “Are you just going to stand there like that all class?” she said, breaking the tension.

David’s mouth had gone dry as he watched the girl stretching, unable to stop himself from ogling her lithe, athletic body sheathed in tights. He felt an enthusiastic throb in his leotard that forced him back to reality. Still blushing furiously, he nervously stammered, “Uhh…um, no…I…” He hesitantly removed his hands from his crotch and began trying to perform his own stretching exercises, hoping against hope for a return to some semblance of normalcy. He continued to feel terribly awkward as his persistent, protruding erection interfered with his movements.

He could hear quiet laughter coming from all directions. From the corner of his eye, David could see reflected in the mirror groups of girls snickering amongst themselves. He caught bits and pieces of their hushed conversations – words like “sissy” and “little pervert.”

“You’re really tense,” the blonde girl said. “Is something the matter?”

David’s head felt warm, and the room spun a bit as the güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri unrelenting pressure of his shame gave him vertigo. His ears burned with every insult he overheard from the girls assembled behind him. He desperately grasped for some way to cling to his fleeting dignity.

“I’m…um…I mean,” he sputtered, searching for the right words. “These aren’t my tights!” he blurted out. “I mean, I didn’t buy them! I mean, I…” As every attempted defense spilled out, he abandoned them, realizing how weird every declaration sounded. He needed to find the right words, some way to reassert his masculinity. Meanwhile, his penis continued to betray him, throbbing insistently against the straining lycra of his leotard and tights.

“Oh, I get it,” she said. “They’re, like, your sister’s, right?” At last she giggled out loud. “Well, that’s okay, I guess. I mean, it wouldn’t be right if a guy wore that to class, but you’re still just a boy. If you had longer hair, you might even look like a girl.”

David’s shame redoubled as she so easily cut down his remaining shreds of pride. His mother had always lamented that he was a late bloomer, and he’d long hoped for a growth spurt that had never arrived. He had wondered if he would always look younger than he was, and despite his mother’s assurances that he might be thankful for that some day, up until now it had only served as a source of emasculation.

The blonde girl turned away from him and put her other leg up on the barre. David’s gaze immediately shot to her delectable bottom, where her leotard hugged her tightly, emphasizing the curve of her white-tights-clad cheek. She leaned forward and threw a look over her shoulder, just in time to catch him staring at her butt.

“I…no, I…I mean…” he stammered again. His mouth was so dry, it was difficult even to swallow, much less form a complete sentence. He was beginning to tremble, and couldn’t focus enough to will his body to stop. He wanted to hide somewhere. And, the secret thought rose unbidden to his conscious mind, he wanted to relieve his insistent erection in the shameful way he so often did.

He caught his embarrassing train of thought before it drove him to do anything that would compound his public shame. Catching her eye, he realized that she’d caught him staring at her perfectly taut bottom. The sight of her buttocks in her tights made the tent in his leotard give an emphatic throb. The sensation of his sheer tights stretching over his stiff penis, the sleek fabric constantly rubbing over the crown and along the sensitive underside of his shaft, was increasingly difficult to ignore.

Perversely, he realized that his first impulse was to grasp it, to stroke himself, to bring himself intimate pleasure. He tried not to think about what that meant about his dating habits – or lack thereof.

“I…I’m David…” he offered, trying to make this predicament somehow feel normal. Yet his lust was battling with his common sense, and his hormonal desires drove him to want to make some sort of connection with the beautiful girl next to him. His base sexual urges were screaming at him to secure this mate, telling him that standing before him was a suitable partner for copulation. His penis was engorged and ready to fulfill the sexual act, and here was a nubile, ideal specimen in an outfit that openly displayed her form in a skintight lycra sheath.

“I’m Christine,” she said, deaf to the discordant clamor of urges echoing in David’s brain. Her body seemed so agile and flexible as her leotard hugged her like a second skin. As she arched her back and curled her foot toward her head, David could see the conspicuous outline of her vulva güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri distending her leotard.

Yet he was afforded only the merest glimpse before she quickly let her foot down again. David had unconsciously been standing so close to her that when her leg swept in a downward arc, her ballet shoe barely grazed the tip of his erection.

“Oops, sorry,” she giggled as she turned around. Something about her apology struck him as dishonest. A shudder swept through his entire body at this merest hint of physical contact between her delicate toes brushing his lycra-contained penis. His shameful member felt as though it were straining to stretch out even further, in the hopes of making contact with her slim, athletic body.

In a bit of a daze, he followed her lead, stretching and readying himself for the day’s lessons, even though his mind could not have been farther from the topic of dance instruction. His gaze was compulsively drawn to her buttocks once more, as the image of Christine arching her back had forever been burned into his memory. Already he knew it was a mental image he would be revisiting many times in future moments of intimate privacy.

But hope springs eternal, especially in the hormone-addled minds of young men, and he began to wonder if Christine’s continued willingness to stretch next to him at the barre was a sign that she might be interested in him. Leaving common sense far behind, David pressed his luck.

“Um, Christine,” he said, already aware of the quiver in his voice, “can I help you to, uhh…stretch?”

Though she had been willing to tease him thus far, Christine seemed to think letting him touch her was something else entirely. “No thanks, David. I’m used to having Amanda help me with that.” She spoke loud enough that everyone in the room must have heard her, and she gave him an aloof look to admonish him for his lack of manners. David’s shame redoubled as what little confidence his lust had given him crumbled to dust. His erection, frustratingly, remained insistently hard.

Amanda came over and Christine joined her, laying on the floor. Amanda took one of Christine’s long legs and helped her to stretch it out. David remained a slave to his desires and stared at Christine’s crotch as she stretched. Only the thin layers of leotard, tights, and panties – what kind of panties did Christine wear? – separated her pussy from the cool air of the dance room.

And then there was Amada. She was in no way Christine’s inferior when it came to attractiveness. She was just as pretty, with strawberry blonde hair – cut in a cute bob contrasting with Christine’s luxurious ponytail – and soft, creamy skin. She stared at David with green eyes that were so beautiful he wished they didn’t have that knowing, disdainful look in them.

Seeing them on the floor together, their bodies pressing up against each other, Christine wincing slightly as Amanda guided her long leg sheathed in white tights, it was easy for David to picture a similar scene under much more erotic and intimate circumstances. In a brief flash of imagination, he pictured the two girls in bed together, completely nude, as Amanda stretched Christine’s legs wide and ground her glistening were pussy lips firmly against Christine’s. He found that his pulse increased at the thought of them doing the same thing together, but while still wearing their tights and leotards, which still left so little to the imagination. Somehow, that brazen sexualization of their already intensely erotic ballet uniforms fueled the raging furnace of desire in his head, and David felt light-headed. It was only with the arrogance of his lust that he pictured himself in bed güvenilir bahis şirketleri with them, between them, sandwiched by them, all of them in their tights and leotards, writhing against each others’ bodies as they moaned and explored each other intimately, driving each other closer to climax within their body-hugging lycra sex-suits…

“How about I help you stretch?” David hardly had time to react to the voice behind him when he felt the sudden, sharp tug on the seat of his leotard. The lycra rubbed soundly against his erection as he was given a cruelly deep wedgie, and a loud burst of laughter exploded around him.

If he hadn’t already been driven to feverish degrees of arousal by his perverse daydream, compounded by the relentlessly arousing feel of the regrettably feminine girls’ leotard and tights his own body had been encased within, perhaps what followed might not have happened.

David reflexively looked back to see who was responsible, even as his girls’ leotard slipped deep between his butt cheeks. The tights pulled more taut over his already straining hard-on. The sliding of the fabric skein across the underside of his shaft, with the tight pressure of his imprisoning leotard, combined to stimulate him past the point of no return.

The poor boy shuddered as he felt a small but wildly intense expulsion of pressure within his groin. His breath quickened and he involuntarily let out a tiny, pathetic whimper. An unexpected warm, gooey presence spurted inside the tented-out thong of his leotard. He tried desperately to hold back the flood even as he sensed it arriving, trying to resist the sweet seduction of his own tights pulled into a wedgie. He managed to not lose all control, but by no means was he able to prevent himself from making a very obvious mess.

The warmth remained even though the spasm passed. David didn’t dare look down at himself to see the whole of what had happened, for fear of drawing any of the girls’ attention to what he hoped wasn’t outwardly visible.

But it was inevitable. As soon as one of them noticed the wet stain spreading across the front of David’s leotard, she exclaimed, “Ohmigod! He just came in his tights!”

The announcement brought about a chorus of disgusted cries, girls screaming “Ewwww!” They caught the attention of more girls who had somehow missed the entire debacle until now, and they took up the other girls’ offended exclamations.

David thrust his hands downward, cupping them over his stained crotch to hide the shame of what his rebellious body had done of its own accord. This only made the girls’ collective voices rise again.

“Oh, gross! Now he’s touching himself!”

“Is he jerking off?”

“I can’t believe he’s cumming in his leotard!”

All the friendliness that Christine has shown David evaporated instantly. “You little pervert!” she cried as she stood in front of him alongside Amanda. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing something that disgusting in front of everyone. And in a girl’s leotard, too. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

David could bear no more. Humiliation set his ears aflame as Christine’s scolding burned deep in his psyche. He walked out quickly and awkwardly, trying to conceal the semen-stained crotch of his leotard as he strode stiff-legged past a group of girls standing near the doorway. One of them said “Love your tights, sissy,” and they all burst into laughter.

David could feel the leotard riding up between his butt cheeks as he walked away from them, fully aware that their renewed peals of laughter that echoed down the hallway indicated they’d seen his wedgie, too, but he didn’t have the courage to pluck it out and incur further insults from them.

Tears burned David’s eyes and he couldn’t stop trembling until he got home. But as soon as he closed the door of his bedroom, he could do nothing to keep his trembling fingers from reaching downward and bringing himself further, fumbling, frantic relief.

He masturbated four times that night.

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