Black Master, white sissy Part 2

Getting the makeup off my face took for ever, seeing as I only had cold water and toilet paper to remove it. I wasn’t convinced I had managed it but by now night had been setting in and in the gloaming I was able to pass as I ran home.

Then - nothing. Silence. No phone calls. Part of me was relieved that this didn't happen - what would I have said to my secretary when she fielded the call? She knew everything about me - or seemed to. She knew exactly what role every caller played in my life whether professionally or socially. But I would have thought of something, would have invented some excuse about a plumber or builder doing work on my fancy flat. But I had no need to invent because there was no call. I got angry - I was absurdly discomfited by having gone through something I saw as deeply intimate and deeply personal and deeply life-changing and that all of this seemed to mean nothing to this bastard. So he sissifies good-looking guys every day of the week? Beats them? Shaves them? Fucks them? Yes, all that and begins and ends with kisses? Deep male kisses, tongues exploring, flavours in mouths kisses? Anger was useless and got me nowhere. He still didn't call and it didn't help me forget about him. So I had to do something about this. I wasn't just going to sit around and mope and feel sorry for myself; because the more I thought about it the more important it seemed - it wasn't just about the kisses. It was something deeper. I had to explore it more. I just had to.

The one thing I was not taking on board was the feminisation and the way he had called me sissy all the time or girl. In fact, he just didn’t acknowledge any male aspect of me at all. So my mind turned away from this and concentrated solely on how deeply I felt attracted to him.

But what to do? I had stopped my run. I was afraid to do it, afraid of the catcalls and jeers that I had received before. Of course it was obvious what I had to do but pride held me back so it took a few weeks of stupid selfish egoism before I was prepared to accept that that approach was going to lead nowhere and that whether I lost face over this or not, if he told me to fuck off or worse ignored me, I had to go for what I needed, I had to make the run again.