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NASTY GIRL
The Introduction
By Miss Piss (2007)
Listen. You’re going to think that I’m a ridiculous cunt for saying this, but I’ve always, for the most part, been a good girl. I’m not implying that I hadn’t lost my virginity at the tender age of sixteen like many people, neither am I saying that I’m not the horny firecracker who’s quite a handful, the kind that almost every man wants in a woman. Hell, I’ve even been a crack whore and an alcoholic. The only good thing about me was my loyalty towards my husband Michael. I love him. That simple. We’ve been married for over ten years. Lucky for us, our romantic and sexual spark has never dwindled. Our sex life is undeniably adventurous. We’ve used just about every kind of sex toy ever invented, tried every position possible, have fucked publicly in dozens of different places, and explored plenty of our sexual fantasies and fetishes. All this was possible because we never had children. We lived our romantic and wild side to its fullest. The greatest thing of all was how he has always accepted me for who I am. He always emphasizes how special I am. I’m not talking about “the way she makes me feel” kind of special. This might scare or shock you, but I’m going to make it loud and clear: I am a hermaphrodite. I consider myself to be a bisexual. I’ve dated a few women before I met Michael, but I’ve never fucked a woman with my dick. That was one of Michael’s ultimate fantasies. He wanted to see me be intimate with a woman. He doesn’t want to fuck the other woman. He doesn’t even want to touch her. He just wants to see me in action. It took awhile for me to grasp the idea of us being in a threesome and of me pounding a woman. My sex life has mostly revolved around getting it on with ma’ hubby and nobody else. I would do anything to please him as long as I wanted it just as much. I wanted this. I wanted to be the nastiest girl I could be.
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“What kind of girl catches your eye darling?” asked Michael.
We were in one of our favorite jazz bars, sipping a few glasses of chardonnay and martinis and enjoying the live R&B jazz music that was playing that night.
“The innocent ones.”
“No girl is innocent anymore,” he laughed. “But that’s the kind I’d like to see you with if they actually existed.”
I knew that Michael was right to some degree. Lots of girls think that they’re innocent and good, but it’s nothing more than obsessive pride and cockiness.
“A woman can dream right?” I winked at him.
I looked out into the crowd. The women there were so-so. There were a lot of mighty fine looking Latinos, blacks, and even a few Asians sprinkled in the mix, but none of them made my pussy wet or caused my cock to twitch with hunger.
“Let’s give it time love. We’ll find that girl that you’re after.”
Funnily enough, I instantly felt it when I saw this one girl sitting across from us. At first sight you would think that she was Fiona Apple. She was pale skinned, had a lanky body, the tiniest boobs that barely hit puberty, pouty lips, long wild grown brown hair, and piercing hazel eyes that somehow made you sense that she must be one sneaky and clever little girl. She looked under aged. I guessed that maybe she was seventeen or eighteen.
“She is cute…”
I pointed my finger straight at her to show to Michael.
“She looks awfully young, but she obviously must be at least twenty-one if she’s being served alcohol.”
“She has that bad girl exterior about her…but hides it with her innocence.”
I stared at her from head to toe. She wore a black skirt, showing off those skinny and boney legs. They were some of the loveliest pair of legs I’ve ever seen. I licked my lips with admiration for them. She wore a purple top, wearing no bra. Her breasts were so undeveloped that she probably didn’t give a damn to give a care. They seemed like bug bites, trying hard to form into a size bigger than a measly A-cup. Unfortunately, they were late bloomers. It was hard to tell if it was too late for them to grow anymore. I somewhat liked her sweet, naïve, and vulnerable adolescent look. Other men in the room were probably lusting after her. She was too young and cute to not catch the eyes of horny perverts who probably fucked teenagers instead of grown women. I’m by no means a pervert. I don’t like the idea of fucking teenage girls. Looking at this girl, I couldn’t help but be aroused by her. I wonder if she was as innocent and young as she appeared. I wondered if she has ever been corrupted, and if so, by whom?
“Why won’t you talk to her?”
“Mmm, I don’t know…”
“What? You think she’s going to bite?”
“No…it’s just…”
I made a confession that I never told Michael before.
“I’ve always envisioned seducing a girl in drag…”
Michael’s jaw dropped.
“You want to dress up as a man?”
“Yes…”
“Have you ever done this before?”
“No…but I’ve always been turned on by drag queens and drag kings.”
“Mmm, so you want to be a drag king, seducing your poor and helpless female victims…”
“Yes!”
I think he was speechless. The sparkle in his eyes showed that he was deeply interested with the idea.
“Do you think it could work?” I asked him.
“Well, you could easily make yourself look like a man. You’re almost the androgynous type. I don’t call you special for nothing.”
I blushed. I deeply imagined it. I thought of the thrill I would get from sweeping a girl off her feet without her knowing or suspecting that I was a hermaphrodite female. I wanted to do more than seduce her with my disguise. I wanted to make her my slave and become her master. Michael would become my slave as well. They would both be my bitches. I will make them worship me, obey my every word and command, and be obsessed with my dominant power every time they sleep, eat, fuck, and breathe. I kept those feelings all to myself. They were inner desires that not even Michael knew that I had. I wanted the thought to boil in me so that way when it’s out, it will burn them alive and make me feel completely holy and god-like. That evening was the first time this inner part of me began to turn up the heat, slowly simmering until the day when it bubbles and overflows. I knew that it might take time, but I wasn’t going to let time stand in my way.
“You should catch that girl’s name since you fancy her…”
“I will when I’m in drag. If she comes back here from time to time, that would be great, but if not, I still want to seduce somebody in drag.”
“If it makes you happy, I will support you all the way my sexy minx.”
“I love you.”
I meant it more than ever. I love my husband. He loves anything and everything I do. I highly anticipated shocking and teasing him when I begin my drag transformation. Most of all, I couldn’t wait to make a fool out of that one girl. I didn’t give a fuck of the consequences that might come along, like the possibility of tormenting her sanity, demolishing her delicate body, and corrupting her tiny little soul. My heart means well.
“When do you want to start doing this?”
“Tomorrow after I get home from work. I expect you to have been wearing your blue collar shirt, white briefs, black pants, and black shoes all day long. When you get home, I will immediately take them off. That’s what I will be wearing on my first night out in drag.”
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