Party Time! By THRONE (Patreon)

Party Time!

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. 

Party Time!

By THRONE

I couldn't believe it.  Crystal had called me and wanted us to go to a party together.  All through high school I had crushed on her, in secret.  It was so exciting to see her, even if it was from a distance, and admire her curvy figure, and especially her titanic tits.  You can bet that I went to every sporting event where she was a cheerleader, even though I had no interest in sports.  I loved watching her moves, and how her blond hair went swirling and swinging.  To be honest, that always led to me rushing home and committing self-abuse.  If there had been medals given out for compulsive masturbation, I would have been awarded the gold.  

And now, even though she barely knew me, my dream girl wanted us to attend a party together.  I wasn't particularly concerned about what the event was or where it took place.  All I knew was that we would be there together.  Once she got to see the real me, who could say where it might lead? 

Since graduating, I had gotten kind of stuck in a job flipping burgers.  Still, I had big plans to get into developing role-playing board games, of which I was a big fan.  Crystal had found work as a dancer.  Actually, a stripper.  I had gone to the club where she performed, Eye Spy.  Being shy and not wanting her to spot me, I had stayed near the back of the room.  There was a two-drink minimum and, though I don't handle alcohol very well, I felt more manly getting real drinks instead of sodas.  They were darned expensive, especially for someone with my limited income.  

Anyway, from my compromised viewing location, I could see her twirling on the pole, striking lots of revealing poses, and squatting down by the edge of the stage, which put her close to the nearby patrons.  As they stuffed bills into her garters and even into the waistband of her thong panties, I felt pangs of jealousy.  Also, I wished I could rescue her from such a demeaning occupation.  Every time someone tipped her with bills, they managed to touch her, which I found deeply disturbing.  I have to give her a lot of credit.  Whether she was doing that or strutting along the runway in her tall platform heels, the object of my desire made it appear that she was delighted to be catering to the assembled drunks and horndogs.  In my heart, I knew she would rather be elsewhere.  

The night of the party arrived.  She had given me the address and told me to meet her there.  I drove my battered old car into the city.  As I came closer to the destination, guided by GPS, I was assailed by worries.  The neighborhoods were becoming increasingly dark and dangerous looking.  I hoped my precious love would be safe until I got to her.  It was a brick apartment building.  There were Black guys sitting on the stoop, which added to my concerns.  I found a parking spot at the curb, half a block away.  Moving fast but trying not to actually break into a run, I got past the gauntlet of dark faces.  What I told myself, to keep from panicking, was that it was like being in a video game.

As soon as I was safely indoors and found the right apartment, I knocked on the door.  It was answered by a tall Black man with broad shoulders.  His muscle shirt showed off — well — muscles.  

"Yo," he said, by way of greeting.  "You must be Jimmy.  I'm Basic."

I wanted to ask him 'basic what?' but realized in time that he was affecting one of those slangy names favored by inner city youths.  I introduced myself, even though he had just used my name.  He put a long arm around my shoulders and steered me deeper into the apartment.  It was spacious, possibly two units that had been combined into one.  The place was already crowded with a curious mix of Black men and both white and Black females.  

Basic said, "You're Crystal's bitch.  Right?"

I figured he had meant to say that she was my bitch.  That would be insulting to her, but after his mix-up, and what that suggested about his mind, I didn't think it was worth clarifying.  He steered me toward a door.  Two Black females fell in behind us.  They were tall and full figured, with startlingly large posteriors.  Their hair was worn short and natural, they sported oversized hoop earrings, and their limited clothing made me wonder if they weren't dancers like Crystal.  

We all entered a bedroom, and the door was shut behind us.  Basic told the young women, "This here is the entertainment, like Crystal talked about.  You give him a hand getting ready, so she can see him as soon as she gets here."

Seconds later, he was gone, leaving me alone with the two dark Amazons, feeling insecure.  They told me their names were Kana and Trixie, which struck me as possibly being stripper names.  

Kana put her hands on her wide hips and looked me up and down.  She said, "Let's get you undressed, white-bread."

"We got to see the goods," Trixie backed her up.  "Show us what you got, snowdrop."

I was confused.  The two of them stared down at me, their features tightening with impatience.  

"There may have been some miscommunication," I said, hoping to clear up the matter before it went any further.  "I'm here as Crystal's date and..."

I was seized, shaken, and thrown back onto the bed.  My slip-on shoes were yanked off.  Next went my socks.  Strong hands undid my belt.  My shirt was pulled out of my pants.  I reacted belatedly, trying to wriggle free from between them.  That earned me a slap in the face.  

"Hold the hell still," snapped Kana.  "Less you want your other cheek smacked."

It seemed best to let them proceed, and wait until a more opportune moment to talk my way out of this imbroglio.  When I had only my boxer shorts left, I decided it was then or never.

"Now, girls," I said, holding up a placating hand.  "Let me explain."

The response was a punch in the gut from Trixie, who was much fiercer than her name might make one imagine.  While I fought to recover from having the wind knocked out of me, my underwear was snatched away.  I lay there on my back, not unlike a turtle that can't right itself.

Kana pointed at my crotch and laughed.  "Woo-wee.  Get a load of that.  He ain't hardly got nothing where it counts."

"And not much hair down there, either," offered Trixie.  "His dick forgot to grow up."

I covered myself with my hands and curled into a defensive ball.  That angered them.  I was yanked to my feet and the threatened swat to the other cheek was delivered.  

"Time to get you dressed," Kana insisted.

"We got something real pretty for you to work in," Trixie assured me.

What they produced from a flat box was a French maid's outfit, complete with fishnet stockings.  They wrangled me into it, being very free with their hands and giving my scrotum punishing squeezes every time I fought back.  All too soon, I was attired in that feminine garb, balancing on pumps with three-inch heels, the straps of which were securely buckled.  

Even in my disoriented state, I was aware of something missing.  I told them, "There aren't any panties.  My bum is bare.  If I bent over..."

Kana snapped her fingers, right in front of my face.  "We gone get your rear end all covered up, don't you worry."

Trixie went to the closet and fetched what seemed to be a pair of huge latex buttocks.  She said, "These'll do good on you."  She showed me that on the inside there was some sort of prong.

Seeing my puzzlement, Trixie explained, "That's a butt plug in there.  Once it's inside you, that new booty will stay on just fine."

"Now," ordered Kana, "bend over and put your hands on the mattress, so we can insert what got to be inserted."

I did as I was told, too overwhelmed and fearful of more physical violence to refuse.  I was peripherally aware of something sweet smelling being put onto the plug.  Then it was positioned so that it intruded between my bottom cheeks.  Unseen hands moved it around.

One of the girls advised, "Tell me when it hits your sweet spot."

I divined what she meant.  Still in no state to defend myself, I waited until it made contact with my rear exit and confirmed where it was.  There was sudden pressure back there.  The bung painfully penetrated me.  I let out a high-pitched yowl.

Kana noted, "He sound like a girl already."

The intrusive item was shoved all the way in.  Behind the thick portion was a narrow section, around which my sphincter tightened.  There was no way it would slip out.  That clown-size sitter wasn't going anywhere until someone helped to remove it.  I was stood up and made to waddle around with it wagging behind me, as I tottered on the unfamiliar heels.

"Looking fine," Kana asserted.

"Now, to finish the job," said Trixie.  "Time for Jimmy's top half."

"Except," Kana considered, "we can't use his boy-name no more.  How about we rechristen him...  Jenny."

They shared a laugh at my expense.  From the closet came the rest of my humiliating demeaning attachments, which was a set of humongous breasts.  That was when I understood why the bodice of my black dress was so capacious.  They tugged it up and positioned the bounteous boobs underneath, then stretched the material back over them.  The end result was that I had a ginormous bosom with plenty of deep cleavage on display.  My faux nipples poked out against the material that covered them.  

"One final touch," decided Trixie.  "Get the needle."

This time, it was the drawer of the bedstand that produced what they wanted.  I saw a syringe with a barrel chamber.  Kana filled it from a large vial of some thick pink, semi-liquid stuff.  The thick needle was jabbed into my lips repeatedly, with the plunger being depressed partway, each time.  When it was all over, they walked me to a mirror that hung on the wall.  What I saw astounded me.  They had injected filler into my lips, which had ballooned out into what are called 'duck lips'.  It was a grotesque imitation of feminine attractiveness.  

My captors finished their task with various cosmetics, coloring the lips candy-apple-red, and highlighting my eyes, before attaching two sets of false eyelashes.  I had become a bizarre image of seductive sexuality.  

"Showtime," called out Kana.  "Crystal should be here by now.  I know she want to see you in all your sissy glory."

I was pushed through the door and out into a mob of bodies.  Everyone turned to see the freakish apparition that was me.  There was pointing and laughter.  That bulging bum held up the back of my skirt, so that the bottom half of each hemisphere showed itself.  My knockers drew hoots and hollers.  As I reached the nadir of shame, Crystal appeared, with Basic's arm around her waist.

She came up to me and said, "Gawd.  Your tits make me look flat-chested."  Before I could organize my scattered thoughts, she went on, "I'm glad you volunteered for this, Jimmy.  It shows me you're a good sport.  Just behave like a good maid for the whole evening and you'll get your reward later."

What?  She had set me up for this?  But it would end with some sort of payment?  Perhaps there was hope for me yet.  Basic turned her so they could exchange passionate kisses.  His hands roamed over her desirable body.  Another Black guy came up to me.  He imitated the embrace, grinding his crotch against mine.  With nothing on under my short skirt, I could feel his enormous Johnson.  Was it getting hard?   OMG.  Basic led Crystal into the room we had just vacated.  A bedroom.  With a bed in it.  I nearly swooned.

Another Black girl appeared, carrying a tray of snacks.  She handed it to me and said, "Make the rounds with that, honey.  See that everybody can get some.  Then report to the kitchen for more."

Suddenly, Kana was before me.  She had one of those adhesive-backed name tags.  It said HELLO, MY NAME IS and then printed below that in marker was JENNY.  Having my male name replaced made my head spin.  On numb legs, taking small steps because of those unwanted shoes, I began to circulate.  Eager hands snatched food off the tray.  Few partygoers missed a chance to make insulting remarks.

"Look at that.  We got a PAWS serving us.  Phat-Assed White Sissy."

"Whoa.  Too much junk in the trunk."

"Let me get a handful of them hooters."

"I like them lips.  They be good for something other than kissing."

I couldn't stop trembling.  My second tray of edibles included one long pickle.  As soon as it was spotted, some wag took one and slid it between my inflated lips.  He pushed it in and out, its sourness getting all over my tongue.

"See that?" my latest tormentor exclaimed.  "Our Jenny-girl sure likes having a fat pickle in her mouth."

That thought got passed around.  Once my tray was empty, a girl took it and a trio of Black guys detoured me to the bathroom.  One was tall and beefy, the second even taller but slim, and the last short and chunky.  

"You can't hardly walk in them hooker heels," said Beefy.

"Take a load off your feet," advised Slim, as he put his hands on my shoulders and applied downward pressure.

Once I was kneeling on the cold tiles, near the toilet, with my fishnets offering no protection, Chunky decided, "As long as you down there, might as well take advantage of them thick lips."

The terrifying three whipped out their cocks.  They were each different but all long and thick.  Beefy stepped up to me first.  His was well proportioned, with all of its dimensions in balance.  He pressed the rounded head to my mouth and told me, "Open up.  NOW."

What else could I do?  I didn't even know where the clothes in which I had arrived were.  Had my wallet been cleaned out?  Was someone in possession of my keys and driving my car?  With my puffy lips spread wide, I accepted the knob onto my tongue.  It was so big that it touched the roof of my mouth at the same time.  He pushed it in further, until I gagged. 

"This sissy can't take it deep yet, but half a blowjob is better than none.  Let me feel that tongue getting busy, Jenny."

With a few additional instructions, I was soon sucking and licking to his satisfaction.  He gave a running commentary on how I was progressing to the other two.  Beefy had me use my hands on his shaft, to make up for my inability to take him into my throat.  Before I had time to recover from my initial shock, he was already grunting, which I took to mean his ejaculation was imminent.  

"Gone bust my nut," he groaned.

Matching his actions to those words, he bucked his hips, pulled back, and blasted a load all over my tongue.  Some of it slid down the back of my throat, but there was enough excess to puddle under my taster.  I had to force myself to gulp down more of his slime.  After I had milked out some final drops of cream, and mouthed him while he softened, the satisfied man pulled out with a wet pop.

Slim took his place.  His cock, in keeping with his name, was less girthy, but it was also longer.  His preference wasn't so much to have me actively pleasure him, was to thrust repeatedly, pumping in and out, as if my face was a pussy.  He stopped only so I could lap his heavy balls.  Then it was back to slamming, until he exploded on the forward stroke, holding that position so most of his spunk went straight into my gullet.  

Last up to bat was Chunky.  His member was shorter than the others but wider than either, with a disturbingly large head.  "I'm gone feed you my wad," he informed me, as he shoved it in, stretching my jaws to their limit and doing the same to my prominent lips.  His style involved short jabs, which came very fast.  Every time he was near to finishing, he would slow down until he regained control over himself.  That went on and on, with the others mock-complaining about how long he was taking.  They also made rude jokes at my expense.

"I'm betting Jenny got her lips fattened so she could attract more cocks."

"The way she handles meat, you can tell she love it."

"Ain't nobody suck it better than a freaky sissy, and this one is the freakiest."

Chunky finished all over my tongue.  He rubbed the tip of his spent organ across my lips, giving them a glossy coating.  Only after the three of them had ended their fun, was I allowed to return to serving snacks instead of giving head.  This time the tray held hand-rolled marijuana cigarettes, along with the edibles.  I passed among the jeering guests several more times, my feet aching in those torturous heels.  At last, I was done, with the revelers departing.  

Basic came to me, with Crystal's hand in his.  He congratulated, "You did good, Jenny.  I hear my three bros thought you did extra-special good."

"And that's why you're getting a lovely reward," Crystal said with a wide smile.  "You're invited back every Saturday night to play hostess to Basic and all of his friends.  I was only going to let you do it this one time, but after the terrific report we got back from those three dogs who took you to the lavatory, I decided you like it and want to keep making your guest appearances."

"But I'm...  I don't..."

She waved away my objections.  "Don't worry.  There will be a different costume for you each time.  Next will be a bunny one with the bottom cut out.  You might get some peters up your cottontail."  She blew a kiss in my direction.

The two girls who had dressed me, dragged me back into the bedroom.  One said, "Let's get you out of that, Miss Rubber Lips.  Then you can pay us back for all the help we gave you."

"We sure hope you eat Black pussy as good as you do Big Black Cocks."

I was doomed.  This was going to keep happening for who knew how long.  And I was almost certain that, with Crystal apparently in a romantic relationship with Basic, my chances with my would-be girlfriend had dwindled to zero.  

*********