m4M - This Just In: Femboy Cheerleader Improves College Football Team's Morale by 80%

When I entered the office Emerson College's Director of Athletics, well, he was more than a little surprised.

"I'll be honest, Perks, I don't think you're cut out for college football," he spoke in a gravelly tone, knuckles rapping on his desk from 90 minutes' worth of nicotine withdrawal. His eyebrows were raised in that less-than-impressed way that just about sounded out the words why are you wasting my goddamn time.

Of course, he had a point. I barely scrape past 5'3" on a good day (and with thick soles), and I'm most certainly not the short-and-stocky type. No, what I am is skinny, lightly toned, lanky by some definitions; more limb than core by a long shot. Pale skin, soft jaw, bleach blonde hair long enough to braid into a hip-length ponytail. Add in a button nose, a pair of big blue eyes and a total absence of facial hair, and the image I conjure is less all-star athlete and more pretty boy.

The hot pants and high-cut tank top certainly didn't help.

"Well, I think you misread my e-mail. I wasn't saying I wanted to try out for the football team..." I answer, idly twirling a pen across my fingers.

"What then? Soccer? Swim? Basketball?" The Director barely stifled the ensuing snort.

"Cheer," I answered, gaze challenging him to object.

Needless to say, his eyebrows raised a solid inch.

I'll spare you the montage, and give you the quickest rundown: my chat with the Director becomes a shouting match, I leave in a huff, keep coming back, demonstrate sheer persistence, attend tryouts, perform without a hitch.

"... Well, we don't actually have a cheer uniform form boys," the Director grumbled after all was said and done.

"Not a problem."

The girls' uniform fit me like a glove. It was, as one might expect, a rather skimpy ensemble, consisting of maroon sneakers and miniskirt, white sports bra and a cropped, sleeveless button-up top. And, of course, under the skirt, a pair of form-fitting briefs with EMERSON emblazoned across the back, white letters cutting through school colors.

When the time came, it made for quite the spectacle.

I'm not going to lie and say I was the star of the show. The girls were nice, sure, but just because I was the only boy on the squad didn't mean I got to sit at the top of the pyramid. Instead, I blended seamlessly: dancing, cheering, and playing my small but essential role in each stunt. But outside of the typical displays of sleek athleticism and gymnastics, well, the crowd got to enjoy the sight of me bent and stretched in a rather wide array of positions, the R in EMERSON threatening to disappear entirely up the crack of my perky white bubble butt.

And then the horn sounded: game won. Like everyone else, I was out of breath and sheening with sweat from head to toe, legs shaking and chest heaving, pearly white teeth showing in a gasping grin. The Crowd Goes Wild. Fuck. Yeah. Hugs, hoots, hollers and general euphoria.

Then the game wraps. Back to the lockers.

"You boys did good out there," the coach says, lips pursed appreciatively. "But we've got to do better if we're gonna make it to playoffs. Our midgame's was especially weak, so we'll want to shore that up. Still, it's only the start of the season, so -"

The door to the locker room creaks. They really need to oil that thing, because the end result is all eyes on me.

Little old me. Toned legs, trim tummy and sharp hips on display, skin beaded with sweat, pom-poms held loosely in one hand. Still grinning.

"Oh, don't mind me," I chirp, giving a wave with my free hand, walking across the room, right in front of and past the coach. Adding perhaps an extra sway to each step, skirt swishing back and forth, back and forth.

You could hear a pin drop.

I pop open my locker, bending low as I fish out my bag, hips bumping as I hum to a tuneless little beat. Then I straighten up, traipsing off toward the showers before giving one final glance back.

"Good work, boys."

I wink.

---

Today, I'll be playing Perry Perks, an arguably male cheerleader who is definitely getting off on showing off his eminently fuckable figure to Emerson College's primo selection of football studs. And since he can't use the girl's locker room, well... Things might heat up.

Your pick as to whether Perry ends up getting a train run on him the showers, or he ends up becoming the more personal fucktoy of the team captain or quarterback. Also, please forgive me if my complete lack of sports knowledge is showing: my interest doesn't extend far beyond the hunks, lol.

I've also got an alternate set-up, involving a geeky, femme towel boy who ends up in a cheer uniform through rather different means. Feel free to inquire if that piques your interest; it'll probably end up as a prompt in eight hours or so.

Quick kinklist: ass play, flirtation, cock worship, sweat, gangbangs, spanking, cumplay, collars/leashes, crossdressing, skimpy outfits, light humiliation, bondage, dirty talk (pregnancy talk and mild homophobia are encouraged), chokeholds, interracial (but let's not get too weird with the raceplay) and size differences. Not a fan of scat, piss and blood, though.

Interested? Send me 1(!) message containing your kinks, limits, ideas and character(s). PMs only, chats and one-liners will be ignored.