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Hopeless Lee! By THRONE (39 pages)
🕑 Added 2025-05-30 21:00:59 +0000 UTCHopeless Lee!
By THRONE
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
**DEVIN DICKIE NOTE**
All characters are OVER 18 years of AGE! This is a bullying fantasy and not real. The acts in the following written work are only consensual sexual choices and fantasy humiliation scenarios.
Bullying is NOT OKAY and If you or someone you know is being bullied, please alert the authorities.
Hopeless Lee!
By THRONE
I'll start out by introducing myself. I'd rather not. In fact, I'd prefer not to write any of what's going to follow, but I don't have a choice. My wife Regina has ordered me to give a full account of what happened over the last year. She was backed up by someone else, but I'll get to that later.
I was attracted to her when she came to work for the company where I was a junior executive. Regina was only a temp, helping out during an especially busy period. One look at her mesmerized me. She was a tall blue-eyed blond, with a knockout figure. Her bust was supersize. For me, a woman like that was forbidden fruit. My family had expected me to settle down with someone from our community, but I wasn't attracted to willowy girls with dark hair and Asian facial features like mine. I wanted a big blond. I wanted Regina.
At first, I held back, because I'm short and slender. The possibility of being rejected was unnerving. Even so, as strongly as I was drawn to her, I had to make the effort. It turned out that she was shy, having always had guys act aggressive toward her, with the mistaken assumption that she was as wild as her shape suggested. That had made her overly cautious. As I discovered later, she saw me as the opposite of those grunting males. In her mind, I would be the quiet respectful man who loved her for her personality instead of her sexuality.
Our courtship was brief. I started dating her before she left the company's employ. After she moved on to other short-term jobs, I kept seeing her. Within months we were engaged. A short while later, the wedding took place. Regina looked like royalty in her wedding gown, which featured lots of lace, as well as something sparkly in its material. The dress had a scoop neckline that showed off not only her cleavage, but the tops to her bulging breasts. She wanted it to be more modest. After I refused, she suggested a panel of fine mesh to at least lessen how uncovered she felt. I vetoed that as well. My refusals to compromise set off a simmering resentment in her. Though I'd never witnessed her becoming angry like that before, I shrugged it off.
The wedding and honeymoon went off smoothly. We had an unruffled first year of marriage. Our sex life was terrific, at least from my perspective. I got all the bedroom time I wanted. My young wife, however, wasn't having any orgasms. Even though she didn't complain, I felt obligated to blame anything other than my small penis. What I told her was something I'd heard in the past, about how nature designed women so it wasn't easy for them to climax, which meant they would want more sex, and that would lead to population increases and the continuance of the human race. She listened dubiously and appeared to accept that explanation, though maybe not 100%.
Despite how much fun I was having with her body, and particularly those supersize boobs, I found myself craving more. Emboldened by success with her, my idea was that we would go online and find some new partners to fool around with. She didn't like that at all. Regina became stubborn in her refusal. I managed to turn the argument around and make it seem like she was being prudish. It became my job to find us a couple to play with. I located the perfect woman. She resembled my wife, but was even bigger in the bottom, which was fine with me. I pictured doing her doggie style, proving that the saying was true, about 'the bigger the cushion, the better the pushing'. The only problem was that her husband was a big Black brute of a guy. Still, his profile made it sound like he was even-tempered and interested only in intercourse, and not anything out of the ordinary. With my attention locked on his wife, I didn't think further about the possible ramifications of him bedding my bride.
We set up a date to visit Maurice and Cherry at their suburban home. Regina wanted to back out at the last minute, until I convinced her that we should get together with them three times before we made any final decisions. We were locked into that arrangement, with no way for her to back out. For myself, I figured that number of get-togethers would give me everything I desired. After that, I would be the one determining what happened next.
When we got to their place, I was surprised to see that both of them were taller than I expected. Maurice looked like he could pick up Regina and cradle her in his brawny arms, which were shown off by the short-sleeved shirt he wore. Cherry towered over me. My eyes were level with her boobs, which were under a camisole top, with no bra to keep her nipples from poking out against the fabric. Our hostess invited my wife to join her in the kitchen, while the man of the house steered me to a sofa in the living room. I sat next to him uneasily while he talked about some upcoming sports playoff, a subject about which I knew nothing. I could hear the women chatting and laughing, but wasn't able to make out what they were saying.
We each had a glass of wine. Maurice made a toast to 'new friendships'. I was getting itchy to move on to the main event. Cherry initiated it by standing in front of me and offering her hand. I got up but it was a bit awkward to have her take the lead. Still holding my hand, she led me to a bedroom. On the way, she pointed out that ours was the guest room, but it was directly next to the main one.
She slyly said, "It will be easy for us to hear those two getting it on next door."
I nodded. Cherry hustled me into the space where I intended to hump her.
"All right," she said with confidence. "Strip down and let's see what you've got."
I mumbled, "You first."
That earned me a scowl. "I said it before you did, so that means I get to play boss."
Not wanting to rock the boat so early on, I silently began to get out of my clothes. Soon I was down to just my jockey shorts. There I stood, unhappily aware of my small frame and near absence of body hair. More than that, there was the matter of how unimpressive the bump in the front of my underwear was. I hadn't anticipated the lights being left on so long. Cherry put her hands on her flaring hips and stared down at me with a critical expression. I gave her an apologetic smile as I hooked my fingers under the elastic waistband. As I slid down that final piece of covering, she smirked openly at what was revealed.
"Somebody got shortchanged in the dick department," she told me bluntly.
I tried to salvage the moment by claiming, "Size isn't everything."
"No? Then I suppose you're not interested in these huge jugs."
With that, she pulled up the front of her top. Out bounced those twin glories. My eyes went wide and my mouth dropped open. I gasped. She stepped closer and pulled my face into the valley between them, then held me there. Her leg came up and she rubbed her thigh against my genitals. I was hard in seconds. When Cherry moved back, she peered at my manhood again, this time squinting as if she needed to do that to see my equipment.
"It doesn't get much bigger, does it?" she asked rhetorically.
I wanted to say something back to her. She covered her breasts again and peeled off her tight slacks. Dropping back onto the bed, she held out her arms to me.
"Come on, Sport," she said, half in invitation and half as a command. "Put yourself where I need you."
At last, I figured matters were going in the right direction. Naked, I knelt on the foot of the bed. Before I could get into the missionary position, up came her legs. She caught me between them, sat up enough that she could reach my head, grabbed my, hair, and let herself fall back. Cherry timed it so she could release her leglock and drag my face closer, until she had me nose-to-labia with her pussy. Crap! Did she want me to give her oral? That was something I didn't do, even for Regina. But then she clapped her hands onto the sides of my head and took hold of my ears.
She said, "I won't let go until you show me you know what you're doing. If you have a tiny dick, you have to lick-lick-lick." She laughed, as if she was simply being playful.
I took a breath to steady myself. If I expected to reach my own goal, I decided, it would be necessary to take the detour she wanted. As near as I was, I couldn't avoid inhaling her musky scent. My hands went to that wide rump of hers and fitted themselves to its sides. That felt wonderful. I poked out my tongue and ran it from the bottom of her furrow to the top. Having consumed my share of porn, I knew enough to give her clitoris a few sucks. She loosened her grip on my ears but didn't release me. I resigned myself to completing the unwanted task. Maybe she simply needed to get wetter before penetration. I lapped and sucked, causing her to purr and moan. Her knees came up, making me feel caged in. She forced my face tightly against her mound, so that my nose and chin were moistened by her secretions, which there were a lot of, more than my wife had ever produced.
"Don't you dare slow down, Lee," she told me. "Be my good male geisha."
Regardless of the cultural accuracy or lack thereof, that statement rankled me. Yet what was I going to do? Stop as she was approaching her blast-off? No. I kept my tongue moving. Her breath hissed through gritted teeth. She yanked me by the hair. I probed, licked and sucked. All at once, she was having a noisy orgasm, becoming even juicier than before. I swallowed her excess fluids, though it made my stomach lurch. Gradually, she descended from the heights. I assumed that would be the end of me servicing her, so we could proceed to what I had come for.
Instead, she cooed, "That's a good little guy. You drank all that saki I fed you. Now take your time putting me over the top again, boy."
To back up her insistence, she crossed her ankles and kept them that way, at the same time pinching my ears again. I wanted to object to her disrespectful attitude and the references she was making, correct or otherwise, to my heritage. Unfortunately for me, my mouth was too busy to do that. I licked leisurely, following her order not to rush. She murmured contentedly. After a bit, her breathing quickened. She let go of my ears. I suppose by then she knew I wasn't going to rebel. Cherry enjoyed a prolonged licking. When her second finish arrived, it was milder than the first, but not by much. I wondered if my wife was next door and had heard it. She might assume I had produced that vocal reaction via humping.
My question about Regina's proximity was answered in the post-orgasmic quiet. I heard muffled voices through the wall. Maurice said something in his deep rumbling voice. My wife chuckled. There was a short silence before she gave a cry of what I could only believe was pleasure. Had he just entered her?
Loud enough to be easily heard, she exclaimed, "It's so big, Maurice. I didn't think it would fit."
"Don't you worry, gorgeous. Let Daddy take care of everything."
"Yes, Daddy," she answered sweetly.
Holy crud! What was going on? My dream scenario was turning into a nightmare. How well hung was that Black bruiser? Cherry unlocked her legs, but I remained where I was, too overwhelmed to do otherwise. I had to listen as my bride was carried over the crests and through the sloughs of waves of passion. It was obvious that her bedmate was in complete control. Also clear, after a while, was that he had stamina to spare. I would have already finished and left the bed by then, probably to go to the kitchen for a soda. Instead, Maurice went on and on. My wife cried out from what could only be a massive orgasm. Cherry chortled.
She dragged my mouth against her moist fragrant slot again. "Give it some kisses, lover, while we listen to the amazing job Maurice is doing with your wife." While I remained unfulfilled, my wife was taken to a second climax and then a third. Not until Regina began that final explosion, did I hear Cherry's spouse growl animalistically and allow himself to erupt with what I could only imagine was a flood of cream. I was emotionally wrung out. It was so bad that I wasn't even concerned about getting my turn to cum.
About 20 minutes later, there was a light rapping on our door. Maurice's distinctive voice asked, "You lovebirds ready to come have another glass of wine?"
"Sure," Cherry said lazily. "I've been all taken care of by my bed slave."
She got up first and pulled on her slacks. Before I could dress, she seized my wrist and hauled me from the room. A moment later, we were back where the four of us had started. Cherry plumped herself on an easy chair and pointed to the floor. I obediently sat at her feet, naked and utterly ill-at-ease. The best thing I could think to do was make light of the situation and not mention that I had slurped her to multiple climaxes, while she gave me nothing except blue balls. Maurice and Regina were in short belted robes. He sent her for three glasses of wine, saying that I shouldn't have one because I would be driving. They chatted and joked, while I stayed where I was, mentally twiddling my thumbs, promising myself that our first visit there would be our last.
Finally, Regina left the room to get to her clothes. She returned and we all went toward the door. When Maurice opened his long arms to her, she happily allowed him to hug her and even returned the embrace. I was caught off guard when she turned up her face, closed her eyes, and parted her lips. He delivered an unhurried kiss that I was certain involved their tongues dancing all over each other. He even dared to let his hands slide down and squeeze her ass. My nerves vibrated. Instead of exchanging a kiss with me, Cherry ruffled my hair.
She said, "Sayanora. I'll see you and your miniature shrimp-roll again."
As soon as we were in our car, I announced, "There's no way we're going there anymore."
"Oh?" Regina's single word held unfamiliar authority. "Didn't we have an unbreakable deal to get together with them at least three times?"
Damn. I had trapped myself. "I suppose so," I conceded.
"Then that's the way it's going to be," she finalized. "Maurice was so charming to me. He put me at ease. That man sure knows what he's doing, when he's doing it," she concluded dreamily.
"We don't have to discuss it right now."
"No? Don't you want to tell me what a hit you were with Cherry? And how much she liked your mini-shrimp roll?"
I spent the rest of the ride home in grumpy silence. Fine. I could get through two more visits with those sex maniacs. In fact, I promised myself, I would take the lead with Cherry next time, and ultimately walk away the victor.
By the night our second meeting was scheduled, to be at our home, I had convinced myself it was going to be very different. My courage lasted until Regina sprung a surprise on me.
She nonchalantly announced, "By the way, Lee, the last one went so well that the three of us agreed that this one would be a sleepover."
"What?" I was thrown off balance. "Are you saying they're going to be here overnight?"
"Well, duh. What else could it mean?"
"You didn't ask me."
"Why bother? You were already outvoted. Three against one. The majority rules."
"But I'm... I don't want..." I rapidly ran out of steam. "Fine. All right." As if it might save face for me, I added, "But next time include me."
"No problem. Lee, the third visit, back at their place, will be another sleepover. There. Now you've been included. Happy?"
I stalked away, muttering darkly to myself, but saying nothing to my wife, who had rope-a-doped me, with the cooperation of that devious duo. It was still several days until the appointed time, so I had lots of opportunities to stew over the change in plans.
When that evening arrived, Regina had more unpleasant news for me. "By the way," she mentioned casually, "It's going to be a pajama party. I'll have something special for you to wear."
As much as I didn't like the sound of that, I decided to act stoic, as if it didn't bother me. "Okay."
"That's my snuggle-bunny. Now be a dear and clean the bathroom. Then take a shower. I got you some new body wash that you'll like."
What I didn't like was her take-command attitude. I also didn't like cleaning the bathroom. Wasn't that my wife's job? Plus, the body wash had a scent that was too flowery, but I used it anyway, since the bar of soap I preferred was missing. We ate a very light dinner, in anticipation of exerting ourselves in the bedrooms before very long. Then it was time to get dressed. When I found what she had chosen for me, I was not happy. It was a silk robe with dragons embroidered up either side. There was a belt with fringe on the ends. And the garment ended above my knees. I asked her what I was supposed to wear under it and she handed me what looked an awful lot like a pair of matching panties.
When I raised a fuss, she pointed out that they had come with the robe, and that it was a unisex outfit. Less pleased than ever, but still harboring plans to come out a winner, I stepped into the underwear and worked it up my legs. It felt strange to have that smooth stuff on my male parts and butt. I slipped on the robe. Regina sent me to the other bedroom to make sure the space was ready to be used, while she got herself into whatever she was going to wear for this pajama party. When she returned, I was flabbergasted. It was a lace teddy that showed off more than it concealed. Her queen-size breasts were visible through their thin covering, with her nipples inviting to be touched.
"You can't wear that," I complained.
"Of course, I can, Lee. If Maurice is going to fuck me, why can't he see what he's getting? Besides which, he saw it all last time."
I shook my head. "Whatever." Inside, I was boiling.
She did a last check to see if everything in the kitchen was in order. At eight o'clock, a car pulled up out front. I had secretly been hoping they wouldn't be able to find us, which was less than macho for me to even think. Regina told me to answer the door when they got there. I did, and was startled to see them both dressed in casual clothes, but not wearing pajamas or anything that looked like it was hiding PJs.
"Weren't you supposed to wear or bering something you could sleep in?"
"Why? You two are our property now," Maurice said, eyeing me in a way that made me nervous. "That's why there's two sets of rules, one for each couple."
Before I could say more, he told me to go and fetch their suitcase from the trunk of the car. He used the control on his keyring to open it for me. I didn't want to leave the house in the skimpy robe, with only panties underneath, but decided the time wasn't right to argue. The luggage was heavy and I had to use both hands to lug it. When I was inside, my wife was conversing happily with them.
I wanted to know, "Why aren't they wearing pajamas?"
Regina sighed and acted exasperated. "It's simple, honey-boy. Last time, Cherry took you over without even trying. So now you're her slave for this visit. To make it equal, I volunteered to be a slave to Maurice. Not that he needed my consent. I mean, last time he did anything he pleased with me... and I loved every minute of it."
Cherry offered, "So you two wear jammies and we don't. That way it's clear who's the boss of who."
My shoulders slumped. With the three of them in agreement, there was no point in me disagreeing.
Maurice demanded, "Lee. Show us what's under your pretty robe."
I cringed from his words. In slow motion, I unbelted the garment and spread its halves. Our new arrivals laughed.
Maurice pointed straight at my groin and said, "I love those panties on you. You almost can't tell that there's anything in them, your weenie's so small."
"All right," my wife snapped at me. "Put their bag in the spare bedroom. I'll make drinks for everyone."
Cherry said, "I'll help you. And Marcus will just sit around like he's top dog here."
"For tonight and tomorrow," Regina assured her, "he is. And I love it, girl."
I heard that and then went to the smaller bedroom. They spoke some more but I wasn't able to decipher the words. I hefted the case onto the bed and left it. When I came back Maurice was, as his wife had predicted, lounging on the sofa. The women were not there.
He called to me, "Come here, slave. Take my shoes off."
If I didn't do it, everyone would be mad at me. So, I went and got down on one knee in front of him.
"I don't understand," Maurice said, gazing down at me. "How did a minor player like you end up with a major babe like Regina?"
"She saw another side of me. I showed her how forceful I could be. And she always appreciated my performance in bed."
He acted thoughtful and then ordered me to remove his socks and rub his feet. I was already having second thoughts about the lies I had just told him. As I massaged, at the same time inhaling the scent of his perspiration, the women returned.
"Hey, Regina," the Black man said to my wife. "Your little hubby was just telling me how he's always taken the lead in your relationship. And how good he is in bed with you. Maybe we should rethink the part he's playing in this foursome."
"Him being the boss of me? And giving what I need in the bedroom?" She glared at me. "I don't think so. It's more like me having to walk him through everything and then him disappointing me between the sheets, especially by his runty rod. " Darn. I was busted. Regina squatted down next to me. She hissed into my ear, "You're going to pay for lying, kimono boy. For starters, you can kiss Maurice's feet, to remind you of how low your position is, compared to his."
"Yeah," Cherry seconded. "And lick them, too."
I tried to raise his foot but he kept it where it was. That meant I had to lower my head all the way down. I pressed my lips to the top of his foot, hoping my tormentors might relent and allow that to be as far as I had to go. Regina took hold of the back of my neck and squeezed. I kissed Maurice's toes. Cherry repeated the command she had given me. I extended my tongue and ran it over them. Everyone laughed at how I was disgracing myself.
Maurice contributed, "Suck my big toe, Lee. And put some effort into it."
Regina got up and planted her foot between my shoulder blades. Cherry tapped the toe of her shoe between my buttocks, with the implied threat of a kick if I didn't obey. I whimpered once and then got my lips around the thick digit. It tasted salty. I applied suction. Maurice growled at me to use my tongue, which I reluctantly did.
He commented, "He has a real talent there. I can imagine him sucking on something a lot bigger than that toe."
My heart froze between beats. He couldn't be serious. They kept me where I was, while I licked the entire foot and sucked all his toes, the smaller ones four-at-a-time. Then I had to move onto his other foot, kneading it before washing it everywhere with my mouth. By the time I was done, my spirit was broken. There was no way I could stand up for myself. Cherry made me shed my robe. In only the panties, I had to give the females foot rubs and massage their calves. All that touching of legs got me aroused. When they spotted my erection, there were jokes about its size.
"You could handle that thing with chopsticks," Cherry offered.
"It so small that it makes perfect sense to put it in panties," my wife insulted.
"If I had one that tiny, my wife would never let it near her pussy."
Regina agreed, "That's a good idea. I'll have to consider doing it myself."
Soon it was time to head for the bedrooms, except that all four of us went to the main one. My wife slowly undressed the man who had replaced me. Surely, they weren't going to make me watch him ravish her. But that was precisely what they intended. The two of them shared some uninhibited foreplay, while Cherry stood behind me and used an embrace that pinned my arms to my sides. As Maurice mounted Regina, his wife slid her hands inside my robe, felt around, found my nipples, and began to tease them. I was hard in seconds.
When Maurice set up a steady rhythm, his huge cock vanishing and reappearing, Cherry said, "It seems that our little China doll likes what he's seeing. His miniature pecker is all stiff inside his panties."
I groaned and unsuccessfully willed myself to get soft. It was awful to have to see my wife in ecstasy as the Black man expertly pleasured her. It went on and on, leading to her having one squirming orgasm, and then him giving her another, during which he made a final furious assault and allowed himself to finish. As bad as it had been to witness that, at least it was over. Or so I thought. Instead, after he rolled off her and they were lying side by side, Cherry said something I didn't want my bride to hear.
"You know," the zaftig blond behind me mentioned, with her chin resting on my shoulder, "Lee here is quite talented with his tongue. Before he gives me a though licking, why don't you try him out?"
"Mmmm," Regina purred. "I don't know if I could take anymore. On the other hand, after that pounding Maurice just delivered, my twat could use some TLC."
Cherry told me, "You heard the lady. Her snatch needs some of your special treatment."
"But she's all messy down there," I pointed out. "I can't possibly put my mouth where... where..."
Maurice's wife finished for me with, "... where that big Black cock was just stuffing her. Well, actually, you don't have any say in the matter, slave. And I went online and found a new name to fit your new role. We're going to call you Ling-Ling, which means 'darling little girl'. I couldn't find one that translated as 'weak simpering sissy with a pitiful pecker', so this will have to do."
"It isn't fair," I whined.
My wife told me, "Shut up, Ling. Get started on your new duty. Do a good job or it might turn out to be your whole sex life from now on."
Those words chilled me to the bone. I unhappily got between her legs on my knees. When I bent to my task, I got a close view of the cream oozing out between her nether lips. My guts tightened. Sick to my stomach, but with that unwanted erection persisting, I lapped from the bottom of her slot to the top. That left a dollop of semen on my tongue. With no other choice, I had to swallow it. When that made me gag, my wife laughed. The other two joined her. Then I began to lick in earnest. She made pleased sounds. After I had slurped long enough to remove the easy-to-reach portion of his deposit, her hips twitched several times and she had another climax, though it was much milder than what Maurice had provided.
"There you go," declared Cherry. "I'm glad my suggestion worked out so well. Now you can thank me for that, Ling. How about a nice big kiss?"
I asked in a puzzled voice, "You want me to kiss me while my mouth is like this?"
"No, Princess Persimmon. I want you to show your gratitude by kissing my ass." She turned her back. "Get on your knees behind me, lotus blossom."
Backing up and sliding off the bed, I knelt, with her wide pale ass looming in front of me. Hating every second of it, I pressed my lips to one buttock and then the other. She kept me at it long enough to make it clear that I wasn't going to grow a spine and object.
When I was at my lowest point, she ordered firmly, "Now get your face between my cheeks and give me some deeply personal smooches."
How could I do that with my wife watching? If I obeyed, Regina would never be able to see me as a man again. My mind was whirring as I tried to think of some way out of it. That was when Maurice made a loud throat-clearing sound. I turned my head to see him glaring at me. The threat was obvious. As if to further humiliate me, he gave my wife a passionate kiss. I sobbed and got my face between those warm hemispheres.
Cherry told me, "Pucker up, Ling. Let me feel you kiss it like you mean it. Aim for the bullseye."
Oh, no. She meant for me to apply my lips to her tight pucker. I did it and she told the pair on the bed what had just happened. Then she made me lick her there. Maurice decided I should try rimming, so I ran the tip of my tongue in tight circles around that sensitive spot.
But it was Regina who gave the harshest command of all. "Give your new girlfriend a French kiss, Ling-Ling. A nice deep one."
On my knees, naked except for panties, with the taste of the Black man's spunk in my mouth, I had to inflict that disgusting indignity on myself. Cherry loudly proclaimed that I was doing it. After I had gotten her warmed up that way, she had me lie on my back on the floor, so she could kneel over me and get her mound against my lower face.
"You don't have to lick, Madame Butterfly. I'll just rub myself off on your nose and mouth."
Regina laughed. "Grind on him, sister."
That was what Cherry did, humping my features without mercy. She went at it so hard that I was afraid she might break my nose. She didn't do that but she did break what was left of my spirit. By the time she put herself over the top, my face was smeared with her juices and my lips were sore. Her finale was served up with extra juice, so much that some even got into my mouth. When she at last dismounted with a satisfied sigh, I was no longer Lee. I had become Ling.
That night, Regina slept between the dominant duo, in our wide bed, which I huddled under the sheet in the smaller bed in the next room. I hadn't been allowed to clean my mouth in any way, or wash my face, so those mingled scents and flavors lingered. On top of everything else, my wife made me don one of her baby-doll nighties. I had bought it for her, because it made her resemble a sex object in my eyes. Now that table had been turned.
The next morning, Maurice opened their suitcase to retrieve something that they had brought for me to put on. It was a pair of silk pajamas, with flared sleeves and legs, plus frog closures up the front. The sleepwear was pink and very much in an Asian style, with trim around the cuffs and ankles, plus a raised collar. Regina combed my hair down in front and cut it in bangs. I had to wait on my three superiors all morning, serving them food and drinks, bowing frequently, and hand laundering the women's delicate underthings, after being made to bury my face in their panties and sniff them.
By mid-afternoon, all of them were primed for more sex games. Those mostly consisted of our guests using Regina. She had to service them both orally. Seeing her worship Maurice's stupendous cock left me blinking back tears. When she lapped Cherry's pussy, it was weirdly erotic. They swatted her fanny and snapped orders at her. She went along delightedly as their living sex toy. I had to stand by with my hands together inside the sleeves of my top. I was excluded, which in its way was as damaging as being involved.
After they ordered Chinese take-out and had it delivered, I had to make up their plates at the table, like a servant. Once they were done dining, the women used chopsticks to feed me scraps they hadn't eaten, while I knelt submissively. Then my wife turned on our computer, so Cherry could access a sissy porn site. She had Regina add it to her Favorites, so she could revisit it anytime. As I watched disbelievingly, our visitors showed her how that page was rich with ideas for ways to train and mistreat a sissy, as well as to sexually dominate him. It even included fashion tips. My wife was enthusiastic to a degree that chilled me. They left me there, seated before the screen with my pajama bottoms down around my ankles, to watch a feature-length video about a Black man having his way with a quivering sissy in panties and stockings and pumps. Why did they want me to suffer through that?
Finally, it was time for the second evening's fun. Well, it would be fun for them, though not for me. The women made me strip and don pink panties, with a matching diaphanous top that reached only to my bottom rib. I found everything being recorded on three phones. They made me kiss the women's legs, up to the juncture of their thighs, and then press my lips to their vulvas through their panties. Then I had to disgrace myself by kissing Maurice's bare ass, though at least I didn't have to enter the central valley, as I had with his wife. That led to them having sex in various configurations and positions. It was a Kama Sutra orgy, with me providing oral stimulation and clean-up service to both females. By the end I was wrung out. They used a photo of me in that lingerie as my homepage picture. There was also a file created, with multiple images, for me to view as a slide show at least once a day. I was promised that more pictures would be added to it periodically. Finally, they went back to that sissy site I'd been shown earlier, and posted three shots of me on a page where viewers could share their photos. My only consolation was that none of them showed my face.
After late night goodbyes, and my wife sharing a lingering kiss with Maurice, I was allowed to sleep next to Regina. I had to wear only a beaded thong, turned inside-out, so all those little balls teased my dick and nuggets. Before turning out the light, she sent an air kiss toward my well-used and uncleaned mouth, saying goodnight not to Lee but to Ling.
All through the week that followed, I dreaded our next encountered with the swinging partners who I now regretted insisting that we hook up with. At least, I reminded myself, the three-visit obligation would be done with once that overnight stay at their home was dispensed with. When it was time to get ready to go, Regina surprised me with something I was expected to wear. It was a red corset with black trim.
When I objected, she said, "It'll go nicely with your panties from last time, the ones that went with your pretty robe. I washed them for you."
"But that thing is for a girl."
"Or a sissy, Ling, which is what you are."
Oh, crud. She was already using that despised name again. Hearing it took a lot out of me, especially because of the memories it brought back.
I said weakly, "I can't put that on by myself."
"No problem, Ling-Ling. I'll help you with it."
She had brushed off my concerns, acting like my problem was how to get into it, and not how much I didn't want to be seen with it on, particularly by who we were going to visit. I sighed and my posture sagged.
Regina said, "Look at you slouching. Maybe you should wear this corset under your male clothes at work, too."
The ties were so loose that I could step into the garment. She pulled it up to where she wanted it. I had to hold it at that level while she started to snug up the ties. The stays were rigid and pressed firmly against me as she continued to tug it tighter. Soon, I had to take shallow breaths. I didn't know if I could bend normally. My wife knotted it securely. She held the panties for me to step into, then worked them up my legs and got them into place. She patted my genitals through the satiny material.
"I love that these are so dark. Like Maurice said, they make it seem like you don't have anything in there, which is pretty close to the truth."
I swallowed what little was left of my pride and said nothing. My inner voice kept repeating that after this get-together, my troubles would be behind me. I would never let her address me with that awful name again. There would be an end to wearing things that made me look like a pantywaist sissy.
It was uncomfortable for me to be sitting in the car in that constricting cincher. As soon as we got inside, I saw that Cherry's attire was limited to a bra with half cups that offered up her stunning breasts like some erotic dessert, and sheer panties that exposed more than they hid. She detected that something was different about me. When she came over and put her hands on my waist, the secret was given away.
"Hey, girl," the blond beauty said to Regina. "You put Sissy Ling in a corset." She laughed. "Let's see it uncovered."
Regina told me, "You heard the lady. Strip down so she can ogle your reduced waist and how the panties you're wearing hide your little sushi roll."
In a welter of shame, I did as I was told. Maurice's wife boldly hooked her fingers into the waistband of my panties and yanked them down to my knees. Just then, her husband strode into the room. He had on a sleeveless undershirt and boxers. He appeared as manly as I did feminized. That big bruiser intimidated me so badly that I didn't even try to cover up. Maurice nodded approvingly. He came nearer, so he could touch my bare shoulders and run his long dark fingers over the corset. Despite all that, it was still a surprise when he cupped my male parts in his broad hand and gave them a slight squeeze.
He grabbed my wrist, brought my hand to his own crotch, and said in a conversational tone, "Now check out what I've got." Then he fitted my hand against his barely covered cock. "Go on," he encouraged. "Take hold of it. Get a sense of what I've been putting into your wife, while you've been banned from her Fun Zone." He chuckled.
With the women eyeing me, I gave his penis a cursory tactile examination. Was it my imagination or was it growing under my touch? Was he interested in me in a physical way? If so, how far might he take it? I shuddered to think.
My wife brightly declared, "I know what we can do with Ling. Let's have her get the three of us ready to get down and dirty."
"Sounds fun," Cherry said in support. "But first lets have some wine. I'd give Ling a glassful, but she might get rambunctious with alcohol in her."
Did they have to use female pronouns for me? And what would getting them ready involve? I was most concerned about that with Maurice. While the women went to the kitchen, the powerful Black man guided me to the sofa and sat me down, so he could put himself beside me, near enough that our thighs touched. He flung one long arm across my shoulders.
Maurice said, "I like how your corset pushed up that soft flesh on your chest. It's almost like you started to grow titties." He gave one nipple a tweak that made my nerves jump. Leaning his head closer to mine, he added, "Maybe we can put some fake boobies on you. That might inspire me to consider you as girlfriend material. My little China doll."
The ladies returned with the drinks, possibly rescuing me from the lecherous behavior I feared, or perhaps only postponing the inevitable. Maurice held his stemmed glass in his free hand. He put it under my nose and encouraged me to take a sniff. It made me salivate. I certainly would have appreciated any type of adult drink right then but that was denied to me. Cherry sat on my other side, also with her thigh against mine. She tickled me under the chin and blew into my ear. My dick pulsed. The two of them kept touching me. I tried to tell myself that my body was responding only to Cherry but had trouble convincing myself that was true. After enough of it to get me hard, they slipped into conversation, which centered around how my wife had been dressing me at home and what she thought about having intercourse with her spouse replaced by fellatio only.
She was happy to describe the girly things I had been wearing. Then she gushed over the improvement in our love life, though it was only for one of us. Lastly, she expounded on the joy she took in teasing me by dressing seductively, flaunting her body, talking suggestively, and especially by using her fingertips all over my body, especially on my receptive nipples. She even gave a quick demonstration of each technique. By then, it was time to move into the bedroom as a foursome.
Cherry, who I had so craved to go all the way with, removed her panties, sat on the side of the bed with her feet on the floor, and spread her knees. I moaned in frustration from being in such proximity to her, yet forbidden to do what I wanted. Instead, I had to kneel and respectfully kiss her mound. At Maurice's command, my wife removed all of her clothes and assumed the spot next to her. The women kissed, squishing their massive teats together. The sight made my erogenous zones catch on fire.
Our hostess said to me, "How about giving your wife some sugar, Ling? Switch over to her and use some lip and tongue action."
I did it, which soon had my wife squirming her round bottom. The women laid back. Cherry's feet remained on the floor. Regina's became slightly elevated. I had to go back and forth between them, to the accompaniment of their sighs and murmurs. It also sounded like there were more lip-locks taking place. The entire time, that punishing corset tortured me.
From behind me, Maurice took a handful of my hair. "How about if you turn your pretty self around, Miss Saigon, and this time do more than just fondle my meat?"
Feeling frozen but moving at the same time, I reversed position. The Black man's shorts were off now. Dangling in front of me was that sausage which made my party-wiener look like a joke. I drew back, as if confronted by a spitting cobra. When he told me to, I massaged it to its full glory. In no hurry to end my mortification, he had me touch the tip with the end of my taster. That progressed to licking under the knob, then kissing up and down the shaft. Soon, I had his jumbo balls cradled in both hands while I licked them. I kept hoping that he would call a halt to the unthinkable scene. Instead, he growled at me to take the head of his tool into my mouth. The women were sitting up and staring gleefully at the ongoing destruction of my hetero status. I fitted my lips around the girthy rod's end.
Maurice patted the top of my head, as if praising an obedient dog. He said, "Now give it a few sucks. Try not to choke on it. And be damn sure not to use your teeth, or you'll pay a heavy price."
I held onto his muscular legs while he coached me through several minutes of mouthing him the way he liked it done. Regnia told me to make lots of wet sounds while I did my job. Cherry wanted me, when I took and occasional breath, to tell her husband how much I adored his cock. I wish I could tell you that I rebelled and somehow ended my disgrace. What I did in actuality was to behave like the sissy they had labeled me to be, like a cock-hungry Ling-Ling. I had to slobber on his weapon and then spread my spit over it with my tongue and fingers. After that, it was back to bobbing on the end, along with swallowing as much as I could. He eased in several more inches.
"Whoa," he marveled. "Hardly any gag reflex from this pansy. She's a natural. Probably been dreaming of getting her some Black cock for a while now. This could disqualify Ling from ever going back to pretending to be straight with Regina."
My wife slid off the bed and put herself alongside me. She whispered into my ear, "Don't worry, Madame B. I'll help you. A girl's first blowjob can be difficult. A sissy's, too." She tittered. "Let me get my hands on that horse-cock and do some pumping."
Suiting her actions to the words, she applied a two-handed grip on his rod and commenced to rub it up and down. Maurice grunted. My wife's efforts were having the desired effect.
Cherry offered, "When my man spurts, it going to be quite a load. He busts his nut and it's like somebody turned on the firehose. Know what I mean?"
Despite how full my mouth was, I managed to make a sound of agreement. Maurice's breath hissed through his locked teeth. No, no, no. He was going to shoot his cum into my mouth. That would take me to a new level of emasculation. Regina hummed softly as she continued to coax him toward his big conclusion. His rock-solid calves were warm against my palms. The muscles I was feeling tensed. I was about to get my uvula hosed. It happened. He made an animal grunt and blasted out more than I could gulp down. It coated my tongue and puddled underneath. It flowed down my gullet like a slimy invasive species. Only a few drops escaped, to run onto my chin. Maurice's leg muscles relaxed. I had just given my first BJ, with assistance from my much better half.
I was left there, hunched over, afraid to clean my mouth without permission. The bangs I had been given, which were combed back and held in place with a hair product when I was at work, were now flat against my forehead, one more reminder of my slave identity. The corset continued to compress my waist and give me a girly figure. My panties were around my knees.
A short time later, I was summoned to the den, told that I had to get there on hands and knees. Not knowing where that was, I followed the sound of chatting voices until I found it. The members of my triumvirate of servitude were spread around the room on various seats. Maurice dominated, in his short robe, on a recliner. He was holding something out to me. It was a pink brassiere and the cups were commodious. I turned to my wife for some explanation. She was holding a pair of massive silicone falsies. Cherry got up and took the bra from her spouse. She told me to sit up like a begging dog. I did, and she fitted the oversized undergarment onto me. With the back still unfastened, my wife fitted the fake boobs into their twin receptacles. Once Cherry closed the clips behind me, it was like those breasts were really mine.
Maurice announced, "I like what I'm seeing. After the way you messed with my meat, every chance you got, I know you want more, Ling. But this time it won't be in your hands or mouth. Nope. It's time to take your sissy virginity, girl. You can relax while that good news sinks in. There's no hurry. We've got the rest of tonight and all day tomorrow. Aren't you glad for that good news?"
Knowing what he wanted to hear, and feeling in danger if I didn't say it, I told him, "Yes, Sir. That's exactly what I was hoping for." Almost choking on the words, I assured him, "This will be my dream come true."
"Your sissy dream," he amended.
Rather than risk displeasing him, I echoed, "My sissy dream, for sure."
After I had been allowed to writhe internally for a half hour, the man of the house decided it was time to, as he put it, 'make Ling a sissy in full'. All of us returned to the bedroom, with me crawling again. Once there, the Black man took up his position, kneeling behind me on the floor, so near that I imagined I could feel his body heat. My wife unexpectedly straddled my lower back, facing him, seated on the corset. I heard them kissing. Cherry got in front of me and leaned way down. She tilted my head up and buried my face between her hanging knockers. My own faux boobs were so snug against my nipples, that their touch began to turn into stimulation.
Maurice said to my wife, "Spit on my fingers, bitch. I need something to wet Ling's rear entrance."
I heard her do it and then felt him rubbing that most vulnerable spot. He made several more applications, using his own saliva. One of his thick fingers almost entered me. I was spared that, but only so he could concentrate on my violation by his butt-buster. The head touched my tightness with insistent pressure. He pushed forward. There was a jolt of pain and all at once the knob was inside me. I cried out, the sound reduced by Cherry's muffling mammary pillows. I heard familiar sounds of kissing, between my wife and my anal invader. He crammed another two inches into my guts. After allowing me to catch my breath, he added two more. That happened a few more times before he was buried to his root.
Maurice sighed, "I could stay like this all night. But I now Ling wants her insides sprayed with white sauce, so I'll finish what I stared... but I promise not to rush it."
He began the timeless in-out motion. I groaned and sniffled nonstop. I silently wished he was again enjoying my wife's body instead of mine, even though that idea made me feel like a betrayer. As a final insult, my erection refused to go away. In fact, the rearward stimulation was pushing me toward an ejaculation. How could that be possible? Was he simply touching my prostate gland? Or were those remarks he made about me having been a secret sissy all along touching on the truth? I wasn't able to focus enough to think further about it. I was close to taking the last step to becoming a full-fledged, butt-boy, pansy.
Regina swung around, leaned over, and put her mouth close to my ear. She said, "Are you ready to get an ass-full of Maurice's potent seed? I know that your miniature dick is hard as can be. You sound like you're going to lose control and shoot your shot. Is that what's going to happen, Ling-Ling?"
I groaned. Maurice grunted. His grip on me tightened. He cried out and I knew he was blasting his load into my bowels. The enormity of it all overcame me. I gasped, squealed and squirted out my own cum, a lot less than he had just pumped into me. It left me panting. My wife laughed. Looking back, I saw Regina swivel around to give the big Black man a kiss, presumably to congratulate him for deflowering me. Or maybe it was a thank you for finalizing the ruination of my manhood. My head dropped down and I sniffled. This was the absolute lowest point for me.
"So," Maurice said, upbeat and triumphant. "Who wants to go out for a late snack? I know a place where the lights are low and the drinks are done just right."
The ladies were happy to go along with his suggestion. They all showered, with the females taking turns to get in and wash his back, along with everything else he wanted them to touch. I remained where I was, with my butthole hurting and my ego in need of intensive care. The only consolation I got was that they were going to leave me alone for a while. That and the fact that this would be the end of our swinging sessions.
When I was allowed to stand, they all admired how the combination of fake knockers and pinched waist gave me an exaggerated female shape. The women joked that I was trying to match their contours. They made me swish around and show off my altered figure.
Before they left, they decided what to do with me. I had the bra removed and was made to put one of Maurice's flannel shirts on over my corseted, otherwise nude body and button it up. It was several sizes too big and hung on my slender frame. He pointed out that he had worn it while jogging, so the heavy material and long sleeves would make him sweat more. It was dry but saturated with his scent. The women knotted the end of each long sleeve, trapping my hands inside them. I was seated in front of our hosts' computer and a sissy streaming channel was put on.
"Now you just sit there like a good girl," Regina told me. "We'll be back whenever we're done." She leaned down to whisper in my ear, but loud enough for the others to hear, "Try not to dwell on how Maurice ravished your sissy ass and the way that makes you a pansy for life."
I was left that way, staring at the charged images on the screen. Because the shirt was permeated with male musk, I had to inhale it the entire time. It was thick enough that I began to shed my own perspiration inside it. I itched but couldn't properly scratch with my hands covered. I saw sissies — ones like myself, I had to admit — being fondled and used by big men like Maurice, most of them Black. It was like the combination of Maurice's sweat-smell and what I was forced to view combined to play games with my mind. Because my wife had put the idea into my head, I couldn't stop thinking about what had been done to me. The soreness between my buttocks reinforced my sense memories. And there was the fact that I had ejaculated while being deflowered.
When they returned, hours later, I was in a sort of trance. I heard them in the background, chatting and laughing. They eventually came into the room and gathered behind me. Regina moved alongside, so I could see her, though it was difficult by then to shift my attention away from the onscreen kink.
My wife said, "Here we are, Ling. Almost at the end of the time with our new friends. Our Master and Mistress. You know, the one's you hooked us up with and insisted we have three get-togethers with." She tweaked my ear. "I was kind of sad to think that our adventure was at an end. But then, when I saw how getting you tail plugged by Maurice's big Black cock made you empty your balls, I realized that what you truly want is more of the same."
Cherry took up the thread. "We discussed it over our meal, which was very nice by the way. Sorry you couldn't be there." She chortled. "The solution we came up with was to extend the time that Regina and you are going to be our property. Our time together will go on for an additional six months. After that, well, let's see how everyone feels about it."
Maurice said, "By then we'll know for certain where we all stand. Six months of fun and games."
"Six months," my wife echoed. "But I hope it goes on a lot longer."
I whimpered, "Yes, dear. Yes, Master Maurice and Mistress Cherry." What would be left of my male self after half a year? I didn't want to think about that. What I said was, "I'm a slave to all of you."
*********
