Boobies

By Lilith Goode

Can a boy working as a waitress at a famous wing restaurant known for the brevity of its server's outfits find true happiness as a BBC loving sissy slut? Justin isn't sure, but he'll try anything to get out of his parent's basement. A trans sissy BBC lust story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lilith Goode
• Release date: May 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005685409

Lilith Goode

I was born in Fort Lauderdale, Florida back before it became a parking lot running from Miami to Palm Beach. In an attempt to escape my five and a half million neighbors, cockroaches, and hurricanes, I moved to Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan, which lies on the Canadian border in Michigan's upper peninsula, in the mistaken belief that anyplace located on a large body of water would have a lot of seafood restaurants. Not being much of a sports person, I missed the somewhat obvious correlation that in order to have seafood restaurants, the body of water has to be an ocean and not a lake. My writing career, such as it is, began when my computer tragically died at a very young age. As background, I should tell you I've long been a fan of Hentai, which is basically anime styled porn, and my favorite meme is where a sweet and virginal young girl has her first sexual encounter and immediately turns into a stark, raving nymphomaniac. When my computer went to computer hell (Seattle, Washington) I had just finished reading an article describing how Japanese anime is influencing Western drawing styles and memes more and more, and had also just finished reading several of Adam Warren's 'Empowered' comics, (which, if you haven't already, you should definitely check out). Suddenly having lots of free time on my hands, (if you want to spark your creative juices I strongly suggest trashing your computer) I began to wonder what a story done in my favorite hentai meme (nymphomaniac, remember?) would be like. I envisioned a young virgin who, on her eighteenth birthday, dreams of a sexual encounter with a stranger and who, upon awakening, realizes it wasn't a dream. Following which, naturally, she turns into a sex-crazed maniac. At first that was the extent of it, but as time went on I kept thinking about what, exactly, that would entail, and finally had to write it down so I could keep track of it. That story has gone through many changes, and I'm still not ready to publish it, although I hope to someday, but it got me interested in writing. (I did recently publish the opening scene in a collection of short stories called "Pretty Little Sluts" as a bonus feature if you'd like to check it out.) Since my favorite subject is sex, I naturally turned to erotica. (I've been told that what I write isn't strictly erotica, as apparently my stories come with too much of something called 'plot.' I considered toning the...

Book preview

Boobies

Copyright 2022 Lilith Goode

Published by Lilith Goode at Smashwords

This book contains scenes of an adult nature, including graphic sexual scenes, scenes depicting drug use, and obscene language. No one under the age of eighteen should purchase or read this book. All characters in this work are eighteen years of age or older.

Cover Image Credit: SHUTTERSTOCK / JEFF THROWER

ISBN: 9781005685409

Can a boy working as a waitress at a famous wing restaurant known for the brevity of its server's outfits find true happiness as a BBC loving sissy slut? Justin isn't sure, but he'll try anything to get out of his parent's basement.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter One – Working for a Living

Chapter Two – Party All Night

Chapter Three – Fame

Chapter Four – Are You Sure?

Chapter Five – Cherry Pie

Chapter Six – Queer

Chapter Seven – Movin’ On Up

Chapter Eight – Vogue

Chapter Nine – Do Me

Chapter Ten – Bring It

Chapter Eleven – Like a Virgin

EPILOGUE

Chapter One – Working for a Living

I’m used to guys checking me out at work. I’ve even had some take unfair advantage of the amount of skin left exposed by the ultra-cheeky shorts they make us wear here. It’s embarrassing.

I mean, it would be one thing if I were a girl. Not that it would be right then either, but you know, I’m not even gay, so some strange man trying to play grab ass with me doesn’t exactly make my day.

On the other hand, the men who like to stare do tend to tip really well, so silver linings, right? I admit, I’m not above a little light flirting, strictly in the spirit of the thing, if it means I’ll be able to move out of my parents’ basement sooner. Especially if I’ve snuck a shot or three during my shift, which I’m not supposed to do since I’m only nineteen, but you won’t tell, will you?

And the men are often very handsome. Why are so many good-looking dudes gay? If I did incline that way I’d be sorely tempted sometimes, that’s all I’m saying.

Even so, the black man I caught eyeing me stood out. He wasn’t just regular handsome, he was like movie star handsome. He had that certain something that made you want to gobble him down. Or whatever.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t at my station. Kiera was serving him. She was smiling overtime as they talked, which might mean she was intimately acquainted with him or might just mean she’d like to be. Of course, it could also mean she was hoping for a big tip.

Now Kiera’s definitely my cup of tea. She’s got layered ginger hair worn eighties Texas big style that forms a nimbus around her lovely head, outstandingly firm breasts that stretch the abbreviated tops they also make us wear to the breaking point, exposing over, under and side boob in the process, and a body that equals those breasts in every way. She’s the girl boys wished lived next door to them.

If she’d lived in the eighties, she’d have been the video vixen who ended up marrying the lead singer. She’s that hot.

Sadly, I’m not her idea of a boyfriend, or even of a one-night stand. Or, truth be told, a casual friend-date on an otherwise lonely evening. She’s twenty-two, so an older woman for me, and likes her men tall and rugged, while I’m small and cute. That’s another way of saying I have effeminate features, which explains why so many strange men like to check me out.

Let me put it this way. I’m five-three, barely weigh a hundred pounds, and have the musculature of a rag doll. Not only couldn’t I climb the rope in gym class, but just the sight of the other boys doing it made me need to sit down and rest a bit. The only way I’d managed to pass the class was by volunteering to be the towel boy.

I’d tried out for water boy because of the prestige, but the water jugs had been so heavy, and the sun was so hot, that coach suggested I might be more suited to an indoor job. I tend to burn very easily.

I also have a tight little bubble butt that’s so round it’s embarrassing. It looks more like a girls’ butt than a lot of girls’ butts do. Combine that with sunny blonde hair, light blue eyes, and, you guessed it, pale white skin that’s as naturally smooth as a baby’s fanny and has never seen a pimple, and I’m the ultimate fantasy for any man whose tastes run that way. If Playboy published a magazine featuring twinks, I’d be their centerfold. I’d probably get voted Playtwink of the year.

It also explains why, at nineteen, I’m still a virgin. It’s hard to lose your cherry when you’ve never even been on a real date. Not to mention when you still live in your parent’s basement. Unfinished basement, might I add?

Oh, and did I mention I can’t drive? Just getting behind the wheel of a car reduces me to a quivering mass of palpating, sweaty anxiety.

With all that going for me, my chances of getting laid are about zero, unless it’s the result of a strictly commercial transaction. Which I wouldn’t be averse to if I had any clue how to go about arranging one. Short of finding a working girl, I’d decided my best shot at a happy ending followed the path of getting my own place as a starting point, which was why I was willing to work at a restaurant that required me to wear a pair of short-shorts and a crop-top that were so skimpy they made the other, better known wing restaurant’s (you know which one I mean) employees seem positively overdressed.

Boobies had watched the other establishment’s grudging acceptance of male servers and had decided the way around the law would be to require all employees, male or female, to wear the same thing. They thought that since our uniforms are so minimal that our restaurants almost qualify as strip clubs no self-respecting man would be caught dead in them.

What they hadn’t counted on was the influx of femboys who couldn’t wait to put one on. And, of course, beta boys like me who have no self-respect in the first place. The move had backfired on them spectacularly, so much so that Boobies was rapidly becoming known as ‘the’ hangout for other-sexually oriented persons.

Boobies had never been a family place,