A Conversation With My Penis

A CONVERSATION WITH MY PENIS

By Katharine Sexkitten

"Hello again everyone, and welcome to my PenisCast.

"Now, for those of you who are new to this, I say welcome, of course, as well as congratulations at having found us, and ask you for a little indulgence to allow me to explain what's about to happen here.

"You see folks, I've spent my whole career, years and years, working on the scientific side of the telecommunications industry, in research and development, learning alongside some seriously Brainiac-type people, true geniuses, visionaries, helping them to create previously unimagined cutting-edge technologies. I rode the forefront of that wave, on the shoulders of giants. And I discovered, by the way, that the old cliché is true, it's absolutely true, that every new technological advancement creates an additional ten new technological breakthroughs in directions nobody had ever thought of before.

"So, and I know that this may sound weird, or the stuff of science fiction, but for all that time, all those years, decades in fact, in the back of my mind I'd always firmly believed that the inevitable result would be that one day we'd develop tools where we could utilize things like neural translators and AI interfaces and ultimately allow humans to be able to talk to other living species.

"Now some of you hear that and you may already be writing me off as a nutcase, but that has always been my goal. To create something that would allow me to talk to other species. Can you imagine? Actually being able to communicate with animals, or plants? The commercial possibilities alone would be enormous, they'd be mind-boggling. Our pets could tell us what they need or want at any given time, instead of us guessing. We wouldn't have to freak out not knowing what's wrong with Fido or Fluffy or whatever, they could just tell us. It would save us untold amounts of worry and untold amounts of vet bills.

"And species at risk could actually inform us in no uncertain terms what they need to survive, or what we humans could do to make their life better, or more liveable.

"And, now, here's the thing, I won't lie, I also saw it as an opportunity to be able to maybe one day effectively communicate with alien species, if they actually exist and if they ever decided to travel to Earth. And again, some of you out there will hear things like that, aliens and such, and write me off as a crackpot. And who knows? Maybe you're right.

"But, maybe I'm right. Who's to say, at this point? I mean, I've always thought, if they do exist, wouldn't it be great to be able to talk with them? Because the odds of aliens actually speaking a language we could understand are, like, nil, right? So a kind of universal translator, that would be maybe the greatest invention known to mankind!

"Anyway, with the stunningly fast advancement of microprocessors and computer modelling and the sophistication of programming and algorithms that particular dream I've had for decades just kept getting closer and closer to becoming reality, until fairly recently, on my own time and in my own lab, when I made a breakthrough that changed everything. I mean it.

"I made a breakthrough that will change the course of humanity.

"Completely by accident, totally unplanned, I'll be honest, one day I stumbled my way into a conversation with, and get this, a conversation with my own body. I won't bore you with the details, but I can tell you that through some very proprietary software that I invented and coded, I nearly had a frickin heart attack hearing my own heart talk to me. Seriously.

"In an audible voice that I could understand my own heart told me that there was a blockage in something called the circumflex vein, which I'd never heard of to be honest, which feeds blood to the left side of your heart by the way, and just to prove to myself that I wasn't completely bat-shit crazy I paid for a cardiologist to check my heart out, top to bottom, without telling her what I suspected was wrong, and after ECG's and EKG's and an angiogram and a cardiac MRI and something called a MIBI, which is a Stress Test where they inject you with a radioactive isotope and then watch it travel along your bloodstream in and out of your heart while you're running on a treadmill, after all those tests, she sat me down and in a super serious Doctor kind of way told me that there was an fifty-percent blockage in my circumflex vein.

"And that, boys and girls, was the most eye-opening 'holy shit!' moment of my life. It was absolutely a pivotal event. To have a medical doctor confirm what my heart had already told me just cemented in my mind that I wasn't imagining the whole thing. And make no mistake, it changed everything in my world.

"I could actually talk to my heart!

"I could communicate, back and forth, talking and listening, with my own body parts. So naturally I began checking out everything. Who wouldn't, right? Lungs, liver, kidneys, the brain, I had conversations with all of them, and they told me how they were feeling. I used a voice synthesizer to give them all different sounds. And luckily, they were all able to report good things, except my liver, which warned me that I was maybe having a few too many beers for my own good, and I'm happy to report that I cut down on that particular level of consumption and I feel much healthier now. Plus, to be honest, I have more money in my pocket on a regular basis, which is a side benefit I never would have imagined.

"So, you may well ask, what was my next step?

"Well, being a male of the species, I wondered if there was any chance of communicating with my favorite part of my body, and thus began my regular conversations with the star of this show.

"So, without further ado, allow me to introduce something that really needs no introduction at all... ladies and gentlemen... please welcome MY PENIS!"

Hey everybody, how's it hanging?

"Things are going good, Penis, thank you for asking. And how are you doing today?"

Same old same old, man. I can't complain. It's like I always say, 'flaccid can be placid but I elect to be erect!'

"I hear you, bro! I hear you. So, it's been a week since our last PenisCast. What's new to report from your perspective?

Well, I had an awesome week, just awesome. First off, you bought me a whole bunch of new panties to wear, all of them silky and soft and, well, sensual I guess is the word.

"Let me just cut in here, Penis, and let the audience know, especially anyone new to the PenisCast, that I am a gay cross-dresser and have been for many years."

Exactly right. So I'm used to feeling nothing but that kind of sensual heaven wrapped around me and my posse, the balls, twenty-four seven. But you really outdid yourself this time, my man, because these newest panties are just divine, really. That's the only word I can think of to describe them. Divine. And the amazing part is that they're almost nothing, in terms of fabric. They're tiny little G-strings, and yet they encase us and hold us like the reverent hands of God herself, you know?

"Oh yeah, I do know. The matching bras and garter belts and stockings do nothing but bring sighs of pleasure all up and down the body, never mind the dresses and skirts and blouses."

You said it! I can always hear the other parts, oohing and aahing. The nipples especially, man. I mean, the legs are constantly going on and on about how silky they feel, how sexy they feel, with stockings on, but the nipples just never shut up about the bras and how they keep the headlights on high-beam full-time. And I'm not putting them down or anything, I never would, but, you know, let's face it, I'm the center of attention and pretty much always have been, so when I'm praising the materials then you know you've done good.

"You're who I buy for, Penis."

I know, and I appreciate it, I truly do. My life became indescribably better the first time you slid panties on me, and I can never thank you enough. Seriously, my man. You took a mostly boring life and gave it meaning. But, you know who appreciates it even more than I do?

"No. Who is that?"

That asshole behind me! And the reason is simple. The more panties I wear, the more action he gets. And the more action he gets, the better I feel, and the more I cum, so wearing panties is like dropping a dime and picking up a hundred dollar bill.

"I always knew that I'd be happier wearing women's clothes because it makes every part of me sing out in orgasmic joy, not just you."

Best decision you ever made, bro.

"Well... we could debate that."

Oh. Sure. Let me guess. You're gonna say that an even better decision was when you finally said 'the hell with it, fuck all the narrow-minders' and we had our first encounter with another guy, right?

"Are you suggesting that I'm wrong?"

Oh hell no. Hell no. Absolutely not. It was, God, it was life-changing, wasn't it? It was, well, hell, you know what it was? It was life-creating, that's what it was. Life CREATING! Because before that, there'd been just a few encounters with women, all of them okay but all of them ultimately disappointing, plus our daily jerking off, and while those are always good times, the jerking off, especially when we learned how to edge for hours watching porn, they were nothing compared to actually being with other men, having sex with men. That first time, man, I consider that day our actual birthday, you know? That decision to go for it, and I remember how completely fucking nervous we all were, totally freaked out, but that decision created the incredible life we've lived ever since, and for that I am eternally grateful.

"Really? You consider that make-out session with Mr. Robb to be our actual birthday?"

No question. Before that, even the half-dozen or so girls we made out with in high-school, even the one and only time you managed to convince Theresa whats-her-name to let me into her pussy, those episodes just paled in comparison to being with Mr. Robb and making out in his car.

"He was such a great kisser, wasn't he?"

I can still remember how absolutely hard I was and the look on his face when you finally worked up the courage to tell him you wanted to make him feel good. I'll probably never forget that moment, ever.

"I almost peed myself, I was so nervous that day."

You don't have to tell me, bro. I was the one holding it all in, and it was fuck of a struggle! But man, when he realized that you were serious, and that you were legally an adult, and then he confessed that he'd always been attracted to you when you were his student, I had an even bigger struggle not blasting off in our pants!

"God, I remember those years of sitting in the classroom listening to him talk about Shakespeare or Dickens or whoever we were studying that year in English Lit, and all I could see was that lump in his pants, and all I could think about was how lucky Mrs. Robb was, because she was the fortunate bitch who got his loving, at home."

And hell, I remember that she was not-so-bad-looking herself, you know? Maybe a little frumpy around the edges, but not much, with those really big tits, so I always figured he was humping her every chance he got!

"Me too. But then he confessed that they hadn't had sex in years, because she was an in-the-closet lezbo who was having the occasional super-secret affair with a senior student, picking one girl out every year. And at the same time he was an in-the-closet denying-himself gay man who never touched another student for fear of getting caught and going to jail. And neither of them could admit it to the other, so they just pretended to be a happy couple, which, shit, that made me sad to hear."

Yeah. All that time wasted.

"Never mind time, Penis. All that cum wasted! I could have been sucking his cock and feasting on his cum and making him the happiest man alive instead of all of it oozing down the drain in his shower, you know? He could have been making love to me for years, anytime he wanted, and I never ever would have ratted him out. I could have been absorbing all those swimmers in me, stomach and ass, feeding on his nutrients, literally leeching out the goodness in him directly into my cell structure, making me stronger and richer and happier!"

Oh I know, believe me. I remember that Stomach got so happy, and so full, that first time you sucked Mr. Robb off, in the backseat of his car, that was what broke the dam, right? After that, we were off and running.

"Mmmm. So listen, why don't we talk about that. Why don't we share our thoughts about the difference between pre-sissy times and post-sissy times."

Night and day, man. Night and day. Before you met up with Mr. Robb in the hardware store...

"A complete accident, Penis. The true definition of serendipity."

Oh yeah, I know. You had a door hinge or something to fix, right?

"I had to put a new lock on the door of the basement suite I'd just moved into, because the old tenant still had a key and the landlord said the guy was a loser and a crook who he'd had evicted by sheriffs and I didn't want the guy busting in and stealing my stuff. And while I'm looking at all these different locks, Jesus there were so many of them, all of a sudden I hear this voice that was so warm and familiar, and the next thing I know I'm in the parking lot, in the back seat of his car, telling him I could make him feel good and asking him to kiss me."

I remember, yeah. I had the hardest fucking time not blasting off in your pants.

"I'm totally surprised that you didn't. I mean, hell, it was THE most amazing moment in my life, up to that point. It was the culmination of years of desires, years of urges, and a whole life of knowing that I wanted big strong men to take me and use me and love me."

I remember that after you'd sucked him off he held you in his arms while you cried your tears of happiness and relief, and then he started kissing you again while he slid that big hand of his with those long fingers back and forth all over me, outside your jeans, and for the first time in my memory I was so fucking happy I wasn't able to control everything anymore and I completely lost it.

"I saw stars, Penis, when you blasted off. Literal stars, white flashes in my vision, whether I had my eyes closed or not, so many of them I could barely see anything else. It was so amazing."

It made your drive home weird, though, if I recall, being all soaked in your pants and panties. Drenched in cum.

"Yeah. I got lucky that day, that the landlord wasn't home to see me limping into my suite with the big stain showing. That would have been totally embarrassing trying to explain."

And I remember that you jerked off multiple times a day for the next week or so, and not even watching porn! You just closed your eyes and relived that afternoon in his car and it made all of us so fucking happy.

"Mmm. Do you remember the first time he fucked us?"

Are you kidding? Like, seriously man, you need to ask that question? I mean, you just asked me about the difference between pre-sissy and post-sissy times, right? And I answered 'night and day'. And that's what I mean. Before that, all of my cums, all of them, even the one where I was buried in Theresa's pussy, they were, like, I don't even know how to explain it, they turned out to be nothing. NOTHING. I remember thinking at the time that being inside a wet tight pussy was the cat's ass, right? The best of the best. No way any other activity on the planet could match the sheer intensity, not even the one and only time she gave me a blow job, because a wet mouth is pretty damned good too, right? But a week later, ten days later, whatever it was...

"Eight days."

Eight days later, with Mrs. Robb away coaching some girls volleyball tournament, in their bed, their marital bed, you wearing not just panties but also stockings and a bra and a ton of lipstick on your mouth, all of us body parts just going ape-shit fucking crazy in anticipation, and he lays on top of you, with your legs spread, and he lines that big thick cock of his up with your hole, something that had always been for outbound traffic only, not inbound, if you get my drift, with his belly crushing into me, and it happens again. Everything I'd thought about levels of enjoyment just fly out the window, again. It's like he re-wrote all the rules. He completely re-established what the measuring system was.

"How do you mean?"

As good as being inside a pussy was, having his dick inside your pussy was light years better. Just light years. Night and day, man.

"I'm still amazed by that. You're saying that not being inside a tight wet hole can actually be better for you?"

Fuck yeah! Totally better. Light years, like I said. The first time he slid all the way inside you, do you remember that?

"Now it's my turn to ask a stupid question. Are you kidding? Of course I remember that. Of course! My god, Penis. Nobody ever forgets the first time they're penetrated, and the fuck-ton of hurt that happens."

Uh-huh. But the thing is, that pain went away, didn't it?

"Eventually. But it was teeth-gritting for a while."

Sure, of course. Stands to reason. And I remember asshole moaning up a storm about how he was being stretched and stuff. But here's the thing, man. Once the discomfort went away, when his entire length of like seven or eight inches came barrelling in, not only was he pushing everything around, which reverberates through the whole region and I can't help picking up because I'm pretty fucking sensitive, but he's also rubbing up against the old prostate, and THAT, my friend, makes what's-her-names pussy feel like nothing. Nothing. Not worth wasting a single fucking second over.

"On that we agree. For weeks she kept calling and texting me, wondering why I wasn't asking her out anymore."

Who needs pussy when we can BE the pussy? And besides, getting into pussy was always such hard work, beforehand, right? You had to put hours and hours in, all the attention and the wooing and the pretending to be interested in all her little problems, just for the chance. But getting fucked by a cock? Holy Christ man, we can do that in seconds, or minutes, without all the drama and all the rituals of the build-up. There's cocks everywhere! And lots of them want nothing more than a cute sissy to pound into!

"Amen, brother."

It's the best of all worlds. We get to have lots of romance and sex, way more than we'd ever get with women. We get to be all girly and feminine, which as it turns out are parts of our personality that have always been there, even when we were playing the role of being a masculine he-man male of the species. And best of all, we get to wear the sexiest fucking clothes in the world.

"Yes, true. But there is one drawback to that."

There is?

"You're right, for sure, women's clothes are the sexiest clothes in the world. But. Something you've never had to notice or worry about is that they're a whole lot more expensive than men's clothes."

What are you complaining about? You've invented a way to talk to your own dick, man! You'll be richer than Bill Gates soon enough. I don't think you get to whine about the cost of lingerie!

"Okay. You're right."

In any event, in the pre-sissy and post-sissy comparison, back to that subject, my life is categorically better now that you've not only accepted your yearnings but are actually living them. My life is now a life, whereas before it was just treading water. And I won't lie, the treading water part was enjoyable enough, at the time, but all those cums I had, the jerking off and her pussy, all of them that I thought at the time were so great, well they all just pale in comparison to the ones I have now.

"And that's a huge part of it, isn't it?"

What is?

"Me, accepting reality. It took me coming to grips with who I really am inside for the both of us, for all of us, all of me, to finally begin living. It took me understanding that there are men who are just completely one hundred percent manly and then there are men who nature has filled with a mixture of masculinity and femininity. I had to get to that point, didn't I? I had to learn about letting go of the cliché of 'being a man', especially in today's society, where there's so much hatred from people who think they should dictate what morality is and control other people and how they live, and who follow along with the lies of their religion, and who won't accept the basic undeniable facts in front of them. Because the facts are irrefutable. And this has all been documented a hundred ways to Sunday, no matter what their stupid books tell them. Throughout history, there have ALWAYS been men like me who were born to love other men and to be with other men. There have ALWAYS been men like me who only shine when they're smooth-bodied and covered in soft silky clothes and who act more like women than most women do."

And there have always been men whose cocks don't need a fishy-smelling pussy to cum their hardest.

"Indeed. We were born to be dainty, and soft, and willing. So many women seem unwilling or just plain unable to enjoy the pure physical pleasures of love-making, of having sex. They attach so much emotional baggage to it, as if it's something they control that only gets meted out at the barest of minimums. Whereas men like me want it, we need it, every second of the day, to reaffirm our own existence, and to remind ourselves what it's like to actually be alive."

Men who know that they're so much more powerful than women, because they're aware of their own unique femininity and what's truly important. Vaginas don't matter. Well, except for making babies, and carrying on the family name, and all that. Our life is exponentially better when we're not begging for pussy, but when we're giving ourselves up AS pussy, when we're being the best pussy in the universe.

"It's been quite a ride since Mr. Robb, hasn't it?"

Hoo boy, you're not kidding. How many men have we been with now?

"Hundreds, I guess. I stopped counting years ago."

Didn't you have a journal or something? A book?

"I did! You're right. I'd forgotten all about that. I had my little black book, which for straight guys is a list of all the women they've been with and a rating system. Maybe it's the scientist in me, but right from the get-go I wanted to document each man I touched, each man who gave me meaning by fucking me, and I kept details about their cock sizes and shapes too. So for the first few years I was meticulous in my record-keeping, although some of them were totally anonymous encounters and I had no idea what their names even were. I kept track of the wheres and the whens and even how many times I managed to make them cum. I haven't thought about that book or looked at it for years. God, I wonder where it is now?"

Why'd you stop writing in it?

"I ran out of paper! I mean, of course I could have bought more books to fill up, but after a while it became kind of unimportant to write down anything. What was important was living the encounters, meeting the men, kissing them, sucking them, letting them fuck me in whichever way they fancied, whichever position turned their crank."

Do you remember that tiny little guy with the biggest dick we'd ever seen?

"Christ almighty, are you kidding? Of course! He had a Latino-kind of name, right? Carlos? Marcos? Something like that?"

Names mean nothing man. A rose by any other name and all that. What mattered to me was him being hung like a horse.

"He had to be at least ten inches, maybe twelve, and thick as my wrist."

He hit spots inside that literally made me shiver and shake and cum about a dozen times. I came so hard and so much that I felt worn out, inside, like I'd run three or four marathons in a row. I know that asshole was plenty upset at first, because there wasn't enough lube. But other than that, the old prostate was being pummelled and nothing makes me happier. It was like everything inside was on pins and needles, times a million billion.

"Do you remember that time with my dentist? When I realized he could see the string of my panties because my shirt had risen up and he was rubbing his crotch up against me while he had his tools in my mouth?"

I remember that it didn't take long before he had his tool in your ass.

"Sweet Jesus the guy came in buckets! I've never seen that much cum, even in any of the gangbangs I've been in."

And speaking of that, my man, how come we haven't been in one of those in a while?

"A while? The last one was, what, ten days ago? Eleven days? You make it sound like it's been years and years."

Okay. Guilty as charged. But one of the best things for me about the post-sissy times is being in a house full of horny men, walking around covered in pretty panties, kissing all the other sissies and fondling cocks on everybody and then getting into the sucking and swallowing cum galore and then of course finding a hard man or two to fuck us, because, again, that's just so much more pleasurable than sticking myself into a hole, any hole.

"Getting fucked is better than fucking, is what you're saying?"

You know it, bro. And look, I've been in mouths and I've been in a pussy and I've even been in a half-dozen asses or so before, other sissies who wanted to get fucked, and there's just no question for me that when you find a good hard man to fuck your hole, I am your biggest fan. I could spend the rest of my life never squeezing into any other holes, and, like, don't get me wrong, a tight wet hole is great. But this Penis is only truly happy when the Prostate is getting a work out and I get to explode like a nuclear fucking bomb. They are the best cums ever, no doubt.

"It's what I was born to do. That's what I've learned. Men like me, we're designed by nature to love other men, to love cocks. It's just human perfection, is all. The best love-making is men with men, and I don't ever want to even think about vaginas again, you know? Being held by a man, caressed by a man, kissed by a man, touched and fondled and groped by a man, and then taken by a man, mounted and penetrated and owned by a man, the target of his lust and his masculinity and his power and his passion, all of that, it's my reason for getting out of bed in the morning."

Getting out of bed to get back into bed, is what you're saying.

"I live to serve, like all good sissies do. I'm not blinded by the bullshit of the man and woman traditional crap. I live to love. I'm the personification of unlimited lust."

And I'm along for the sweet ride, loving every second of it.

"Which brings us to the end of our time today, my friend. I'd like to thank all of our listeners and readers for their attention, and I hope that we've passed along at least some words of wisdom. Any last thoughts, Penis, before we go?"

Yeah, man. Just one. I want to encourage every other Penis out there to follow their dreams. You don't have to settle for the once-in-a-while strict holding patterns that women put you through! You don't have to jump through their emotional-bullshit hoops. Most of them are just playing you! They're trying to control you! And most of all, you don't have to settle for second best. And believe me, vaginas are most definitely second best. Find yourself some sexy lingerie to slip into, and then find yourself a man to fuck you silly, and then find even more men to fuck you silly. You'll never miss the vagina monsters again. On that, you have my word. It's a guarantee.

"Thank you Penis. And we'll see you all again next week, on our next PenisCast."

THE END