Profitable Partnership! by Throne (75 Pages) (Patreon)

Profitable

Partnership!

By Throne

© 2019-2020 QoS Comix All Rights Reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to ​Devinwhitegurl@gmail.com 

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.

PROFITABLE PARTNERSHIP 

(aka SHARING THE ASSETS) 

by Throne

(Inspired by Devin Dickie.)

The business I  co-owned was going along perfectly.  We were adding new clients at a  steady pace.  Making outstanding profits.  It allowed me to buy a nice  home for myself and my wife Macy.  It also meant she could treat herself to all the finer things that made her  happy, like nice clothes and shoes, jewelry, and pieces of antique  furniture.  I was always eager to please her because she was such a  beauty, and so loving.  Just coming home to her at the end of the day was glorious.  Macy is a short blond with a trim figure,  though her bust is impressively full.  She had always been  affectionate.  Eager to make me happy.

Our sex life  was a constant marvel to me.  I'd only done a limited amount of dating  when I was single.  I'm a lot shorter than average and was never  comfortable with girls taller than me, which was most of them.  And I'd had a few bad experiences with dates  expressing unhappiness with me in bed.  I'm not well hung.  It was  impossible to miss the disappointed reactions when I got out of my  pants.  But I always credited that to some females being overly concerned with size.  And I did have a tendency to finish sooner that my  partners expected or wanted.  To me it was just because I was so  enthused about intercourse.

Those  situations never occurred with my gorgeous wife.  Macy was my height  unless she wore heels, which she avoided as a courtesy to me.  She had  no complaints about my penis dimensions or my abrupt ejaculations.  Sometimes she even told me how good I was while we were  in bed together.  

So there I  was, still in my early 20s, cruising down life's highway with a clear  road ahead of me for as far as the eye could see.  That's why it was  such a shock when I ran head-on into a life changing obstacle.  My partner in our acquisitions and sales firm was Bob.  We  had built the business together, though I had admitted to myself at  times that he was the real brains of the operation.  But I took it for  granted that the two of us would continue the way we were until some point, many years in the future, when we would sell  everything for a huge sum.  That was why it was a total shock when I got  a certified letter at the office on Friday informing me that he had  sold his half -- well, slightly more than half -- of everything to someone else.  The news left me in a daze.

Then I got a second shock on Saturday.  My wife told me that the buyer had stopped by to introduce himself. 

"What did he say?" I wanted to know.

"Not much."   She had on a short belted robe, and pulled the top together to hide her  generous cleavage.  "But he was really pleasant."

"Did he mention anything about his background?"

"No.  I gave him a glass of wine and we chatted."

"About what?" I demanded, losing my usual calm.

She  was obviously bothered by my tone as she said, "He complimented me  several times.  And HE didn't get all agitated about the changes in the  business."

"Well, it's not his company.  I mean, he's just stepping in after we've got it up and running, and it's a big success."

"You know, he  did say something about trying a new approach.  But I guess the two of  you will discuss that later."  She gave me a pointed look and added,  "After you've settled down."

"I..."  It  struck me then that I'd been rude to her.  I said, "You have to excuse  me if I'm a little upset.  Bob didn't even tell me about his move in  person.  It's like he wanted to make it difficult."

"I don't know what Bob might have been thinking.  Though you DID cost him that one big account recently."

"I didn't do  that just to him.  It hurt me, too."  My voice was rising again.  I  forced myself to speak in a level tone.  "And there's still a chance to  get that client back.  Maxwell Productions.  They haven't gone with anyone else yet."

"I know.   You've talked about it several times.  And I do listen, Chuck.  Plus, I  have a basic grasp of business.  I'm not just a dumb blond."

That took me  aback.  Her sweet face was made over by dissatisfaction.  My mind jumped  ahead to bedtime, and the possibility that, instead of greeting me  warmly, she would turn a cold shoulder.  It had been several days since we'd had relations and I was feeling the  need for release.  All the stress from my business news made me want it  even more.  

"All right."  I  tried to be soothing.  "I'll talk to the new co-owner when he gets in  touch with me personally.  It's a shame I wasn't home when he stopped.   If it hadn't been for that e-mail from the collectibles shop, and those exclusive action figures they had..."  I  shook my head.  "Maybe I'll get to talk to my new partner tomorrow at  work."

"Oh, I took care of that," Macy said brightly.  "I invited him to stop back later for drinks."

"You what?"  This time I was genuinely agitated.  "How could you do that?"

"I figured you'd want to talk to him as soon as possible.  And you do.  Right?"

That was  true.  I felt kind of stupid for a moment.  And she looked so inviting.   So I just said, "Yes, I do."  After a pause that should have been  shorter, I added, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she answered coolly.  

Slightly abashed, I asked, "What time will he be here?"

"At eight."

"Fine.  That gives me a few hours to get prepped for a meeting."

"I think he just wants to introduce himself and get acquainted."

"In business  you have to be ready for anything.  Have a plan.  In fact, I'll tell him  how I expect to get back the Maxwell account."

"Yes, dear."

"And what's his name?  You didn't tell me."

"Kendrick."

"Mr. Kendrick..." I repeated.  "... will find out who's in charge."  

"Of course he will, Chuck," she agreed as she turned away.  "I'm sure of it."

"Lay out something appropriate for me to wear," I called out after her.  "And pick a good outfit for yourself."

"I hear and obey, oh powerful one," she said with a bit of an attitude.  "It shall be done."

I ignored  that.  There was still the hope of having sex later on.  I ate a light  dinner and made myself a drink.  Then I went to my computer and reviewed  several major accounts, including the Maxwell one.  I decided that everything hinged on my confident strategy for  reclaiming that customer.  I put the others out of my mind.  For over an  hour I focused on that single client, lining up my talking points in my  mind.  Mr. Kendrick was going to be quite impressed after he heard me talk.  And Macy would play the properly respectful  wife of an important businessman.  Everything was going to go smoothly.

When I noticed  the time it was a quarter to eight.  Why hadn't my wife said  something?  She was in the master bathroom so I had to run to the  smaller one in the basement to freshen up.  It was just a toilet and a sink in a plywood enclosure but I didn't have any  alternative.  While I was there I decided that we would finally get  the basement finished after my immediate concerns were taken care of.   That would certainly impress Macy.  Then I rushed back upstairs, with only minutes to finish getting ready.  When I got to our  bedroom and saw what she had laid out for me to wear, my stomach tied  itself in knots.  There was a short sleeve, plaid shirt, a pair of white  shorts, pale blue socks and deck shoes.  I was going to put together another outfit, even if it meant making Mr.  Kendrick wait a few minutes.

Just as I was  about to start picking something else, Macy strolled into the room, hips  swaying.  I stood there gaping at her.  She had brushed out her long  hair and used some product to make it extra full.  Her make-up was heavier than usual; it wasn't a lot but the  change was unmissable.  My wife had on a tight, hot pink dress that  hugged her curves.  It left her substantial boobs half exposed and was  so short that, if she bent forward, her panties might peek out.   White stockings with tiny red hearts all over them encased  her shapely legs, and shiny red shoes with four inch stilettoes made her  taller than me.  That shocking outfit was finished with several pieces  of sparkling jewelry.  

"What are you doing?" I said in alarm.  "This is a business associate who's coming to visit.  I wanted us to be casual."

"So?  I feel casual in this.  And I picked something for you that I thought would fit your definition of the term."

Her unfamiliar confidence disarmed me.  I just stood there.  We both heard a car outside.

"That might be your new partner," she said.  "I'll go and greet him.  Try not to take too long, Chuck."

Flustered, I  watched her leave, sexy bottom rolling.  I quickly stripped and got into  what she had selected for me.  Not that I was happy about it, but I was  too distracted to make new selections.  After I was done and had pushed my hair back behind my ears and  side-swept it off my forehead, I hurried toward the living room.  When I  got there, yet one more surprise was waiting for me.  My wife was  sitting on the short couch alongside someone who I could only assume was Mr. Kendrick.  He was tall and broad shouldered.  His  outfit was an imported sport coat, high-end shirt, and stylish slacks,  along with shoes that I was certain were hand stitched.  They were  smiling at each other and chatting animatedly.  And he was Black.  

For several  seconds, during which time seemed to slow for me, they went on as if I  hadn't arrived.  Then my wife glanced at me and her smile became less  enthused.  

She held her hand out toward me and said, "This is my husband, Chuck."

"Hey," the handsome man said as he stood and demonstrated how considerably taller than me he was.  "Glad to meet you, man."

"Likewise... Mr. Kendrick," I said haltingly.   

"No, no," he gently corrected.  "Kendrick is my first name."  He held out his big hand.

"Right."  I felt foolish after that gaff.  "Great."  

"Your  beautiful wife was just asking me what I'd like to drink."  He reached  over to the end table by where he'd been sitting and picked up a bottle  of expensive whiskey.  "Maybe we could have some of this, on the rocks."

"Oh, I usually mix mine with some ginger ale or..."

He pointed to  the label.  "We wouldn't want to adulterate this fine blend, now would  we?  Let's try it the classic way.  Do you have some rocks glasses?"

When I didn't  have an answer, my wife helpfully offered, "Those short ones, Chuck.   Short and wide.  Put some of this excellent whiskey in a couple of them  with ice for Kendrick and I.  If you don't want any, just have a can of your soda."

I went to the  kitchen.  From there I could hear them conversing again.  When I  couldn't find the glasses where I was, I checked the pantry.  They were  in the cabinet.  I took three and rinsed them, then filled them halfway with ice.  I thought that was the right  amount.  Then I opened the bottle and poured three whiskeys.  I wasn't  going to sit there with just soda and feel left out.  Putting the drinks  on a round silver tray, I returned to the living room.  My wife was giggling at something Kendrick had said.  I bent  forward and they each took a glass.  Then I crossed the room to sit on  the big easy chair.  With nowhere to set the tray, I kept it on my lap.   The others clinked their glasses together and sipped.  I was annoyed by how excluded they were making me feel, and  displeased to find out that my new partner was a tall, confident Black  man.  Taking a full swallow of my drink, I suddenly choked and began  coughing.  Some of the liquid sprayed onto my shirtfront.  Macy appeared concerned but, when I got control of my breathing, her  look turned to one of derision.  

"Gee, Chuck," she said condescendingly, "you really can't hold your liquor."

The two of  them laughed as if it had just been a mild joke and, rather than be a  bad sport, I joined them.  I decided it was time to play my ace in the  hole.  The Maxwell deal.  I launched into my prepared spiel.  The words came out in a torrent, not as smoothly and  convincingly as I had intended.  After stumbling through everything I  was still sure that it would have the desired effect.

Kendrick eyed  me with a mix of pity and amusement.  He said, "I saw that in the  company files.  Noticed how you had lost it in the first place.  Went to  see them myself and got everything patched up.  The Maxwell account is all secured, safe and sound, for the next three  years."

I sat there  like a leaking balloon that slowly deflates.  In need of liquid courage,  I finished the rest of my drink in one gulp.  Kendrick showed a pained  expression and held up his own glass, brought it slowly to his lips, and savored a short swallow.  It was as if he was  showing me the right way to consume such a fine product.  My wife  watched him with admiration.  There I was, the object of their  attention, dressed like an awkward college freshman, drinking like one too, and having just been bested with that all important  contract.

My  new partner picked up a folder that was alongside him, where the bottle  had been.  He got up and came over to me, opening it as he moved.

"I  will need your signature on the Maxwell paperwork, to finalize  everything," he said patronizingly.  "Unless you'd rather talk to them  first."  He shrugged.  "For whatever reason."

He  held out a pen and I accepted it.  With my wife's eyes on me, I let  Kendrick open the folder and set it on the tray on my lap.  He pointed a thick dark finger at the bottom of the page.

"Sign here, please."  He turned to the next page.  "And here."  Then  he took that document, revealing that there was a single sheet under  it.  This one had space for two signatures and one was already filled in.  He explained, "The Maxwell people would only agree to come back  with us if we made certain changes.  They wanted me to have more  authority.  I didn't think that would be a problem with you, since I own  more of the company anyway.  Of course, like I said, if you want to talk to the top honchos at Maxwell, that's your  decision.  I'm not here to tell you what to do.  Not until you sign that  paper, anyway."  

"Wait.  I mean, are you taking over?"

He  let out a booming laugh.  "Just kidding about that part."  He nodded at the paper on my lap.  "But  I do need your John Hancock down there if we don't want to forfeit the  Maxwell deal."

When  I didn't do it instantly, Macy told me, "Chuck, sign the paper already.  You lost the Maxwell  account and Kendrick got it back.  Do you want to lose it again?"

My  cheeks got warm and I knew they were flushed.  I didn't want to think about what my face looked  like at that moment.  I signed and Kendrick took the folder, put the  other document back in, and closed it up.  He returned to his seat,  right next to my wife.  She appeared to be closer to him than before.  I wasn't happy about anything that was going on.   The conversation turned to hobbies.  He had a modest art collection,  specializing in but not limited to African-American creators.  I had to  reveal that I had a lot of action figures.

Macy said, "What was that new doll you got last week?"

"They're  not dolls."  I tried to sound patient but there was undeniable tension in my voice.  "They're  action figures.  And the one I got was a rare, new-in-box..."  Oh  crud.  Did she have to bring up that one?  "... Princess Power."

"Sounds like a doll to me," she said and rolled her eyes.

Thoroughly  humiliated, I had to listen to Kendrick smoothly deliver a mini-lecture on art, at once  erudite and unpretentious.  My wife was rapt throughout it, and kept  leaning toward him, offering a clear view of the tops of her breasts.   He had a special advantage from his superior height, looking down on her.  My palms were sweating and I kept fidgeting on the  big chair.  His talk wasn't too long and at the end Macy asked a few  questions, which he was happy to answer.  After that he switched gears  conversationally, telling me several changes he wanted to make in the business.  They sounded good, though more  aggressive than what I would have considered.  I accepted them all,  hating how weak I felt in his presence and how ill-equipped I was to  change how he must appear to my bride, especially in contrast to the poorly dressed, bumbling, unassertive way I had  presented myself.  

We  all had a second drink.  Kendrick shared a few facts about whiskey and then declared that he  didn't want to take up our entire evening.  Macy was visibly  disappointed to see him go. 

He  said, "Why don't the two of you stop by my place on Friday night.?  Let's say around eight?  I  can put my number into your phone."  That last comment was directed not  to me but at my wife, who was pleased to hand him her cellular.  

I  started to politely decline the invitation but a scowl from my wife made my objections collapse in  mid-sentence.  All I could show after that was a simpering smile.  

We all walked to the front door.  Kendrick took my wife's hand and didn't let it go while he made an extended thank you.  Then he gave me a broad wink.

"See you at the office, Chucky.  Make sure you're on time."  He chuckled, as if to make sure I understood that he was just joking again.  

As  he let himself out, I got a look at his sleek sports car.  I mentally compared it with what I  drove, which was sturdy, reliable... and dull.  My shoulders sagged.   Macy stepped out onto the porch and waved to him as he got into his  vehicle.  Kendrick started the engine, made it roar once, and drove off, giving a final farewell with a beep of his horn.  I  wanted to go crawl under the bed and hide.  When she was inside again,  my wife examined me critically.

"Really?" she said.  "That man saved the major deal that you dumped into the garbage.  And you couldn't even thank him?  Not one word?"

"I...  It was just that...  He didn't give me a chance to..."

"He  gave you plenty of chances to not only thank him, but to show some gratitude for having him take  over.  I hope you'll demonstrate more respect tomorrow at the office.   And when we visit him at his place, try not to get into another pissing  contest, which by the way you lost badly."

"I'm  only..."  There didn't seem to be any conclusion to that sentence that would benefit me.  So I  just gave up and told her, "You're right, dear.  I'll try to keep all  that in mind."  What was happening to me?

Macy  was displeased with me, so I didn't even ask about sex.  Didn't hint at it.   I went to the  basement and rearranged my action figures in their display case.  

The  next day at the office, Kendrick was already behind Bob's old desk when I arrived.  He fired off  some more of his assertive ideas and said he'd be speaking with several  of our clients during the day.  I tried to give him some advice but he  politely shushed me.

"Let's  see how things work out when I do them my way," he advised.  "After all, I'm the majority  owner of the company.  And that paper you signed last night ceded pretty  much all of your power to me."

"What?  Let me see it."

"It's  on it's way to the lawyers at the moment.  But after they write up something else I requested and  you sign that, we can have a talk."  I wanted to get more information  but he dismissed me with, "You should run through your files and make  sure everything is up to date for the rest of the accounts before I go through them in more detail.  Okay, little  buddy?"

Little  buddy?  I started to say something but thought better of it.  With a nod, I went to my desk  and began to do as I had been told.  I realized that Kendrick was not  only ahead of me in business acumen, but that I was physically  intimidated by his size and obvious strength.  Maybe I should just bide my time and wait for an opening to reassert myself.   Along with all that, the employees around me seemed to have had a change  in attitude.  It was as if they no longer viewed me as their superior.   More like an equal, or maybe less.  I noticed that the several Black guys were even a bit condescending.  It was as if  they were sharing some private joke that I wasn't aware of.  By the end  of the day my mood was somewhere between flustered and defeated.  As  discouraged as I felt, at home I still didn't try to initiate lovemaking, even though my need was increasing.  

Over  the next few days Kendrick reworked some deals to our advantage, strengthened some relationships,  and found time to land two new and very valuable clients.  I continued  to labor at more menial tasks, making sure everything was ready each  time he wanted to make another of his invariably successful moves.  I thought I caught the Black fellows sneering at me.   One of our secretaries, Niecy, who was also Black, kept checking up on  me.  On the one hand I didn't mind her coming around, because she was  quite attractive, with a sexily full figure.  On the other hand she acted like I was a new employee and had to be   watched all the time.  

At  the end of the week Kendrick pointed out to me that, to get those better deals, and acquire those new  accounts, it had been necessary to reduce my involvement in high level  actions, with a commensurate reduction in my pay.  All the employees  plainly admired and respected him.  There was already talk among them about how his innovations would benefit them  financially.  So I once again backed down and simply accepted my lesser  role and income.  But at least I didn't have to tell Macy.  That would  have been too much.  I would just handle our finances a bit differently and she'd never notice.  Fixing up the  basement could wait a while longer.  And I could still keep up with the  newest action figures that I wanted.

Everything  might have continued like that, and I might have gotten our love life back on track, if not  for our get-together at Kendrick's place on Friday evening.  This time I  was allowed to pick my own wardrobe, though my wife vetoed a power tie I  wanted to wear and had me put on something more colorful.  She selected another of those clinging dresses for  herself, this one in electric blue.  I didn't remember ever seeing it  before.  The rest of her ensemble was similar to what she had worn at  our place.  There were also large hoop earrings.  I thought I detected even more of a flair to her cosmetics, especially  on her eyes, but I said nothing.  She drove because it was her who had  talked to him on the phone and gotten his address.  It turned out that  he lived in a ritzy apartment building with an adjacent elevated garage.  Macy pulled into a section reserved for  visitors and we went to the elevator, which took us to his floor.

She told me, "I want you on your best behavior, Chucky.  Don't embarrass me in front of Kendrick.  Understood?"

As  much as I didn't appreciate being called Chucky, and having her talk down to me, I didn't have any  fight left in me at that point.  I just wanted to get through the  evening and then rethink everything over the rest of the weekend.  Maybe  there was some way to bring the situation back into balance.  We got to Kendrick's door and my wife knocked.  He  answered, looking more imposing than ever, though with a sly smile for  her.  They went in and I followed, feeling like excess baggage.  The  place was fantastic, with tasteful yet elegant décor and a few pieces from his art collection on the walls.  The two of them  got comfortable on the couch and I was relegated to a wooden chair  opposite.  After a few minutes of them conversing, Kendrick said he'd  get us all drinks.

He asked Macy, "Would champagne be okay?"

She was delighted.  He vanished and I implored her with my eyes.  

My wife said, "What?"  We heard a champagne cork pop.

I hissed at her, "Please, just don't be so friendly with him."

"I'm just trying to make a good impression on your boss."

"He's not my boss."

"Oh."  She tilted her head to the side.  "Okay."

Moments  later he reappeared with a small tray on which were two flutes of golden liquid, the open  bottle, and a can of soda.  He gave my wife one glass and set another at  his spot.  Then he came to me and handed me the unopened can.

"I remembered that you like ginger ale," he said with a grin.  

"Uh, sure."

Then he returned to the couch.  Raising his glass, he said, "To new ventures."  His eyes locked with Macy's.  "To new partners."  

Kendrick  linked his arm with hers at their elbows and she went along with it.  They were joined that  way as each drank from their own flute.  I fumbled with the pull tab on  my can and was rewarded with a spray of soda in my face.   It must have  gotten shaken up at some point.  

After he set down his drink, the Black businessman said to Macy, "You seem to be taking your husband's new position well."

"What new position is that?"

"I'm sure he told you.  About how I had to limit his power in the company.  And lower his earnings."

"No."  She turned accusingly toward me.  "I guess he's not being honest  with me anymore.  Even though he knows I despise being lied to."

"It's just that I was waiting for the right time," I extemporized.  

"Really?  Are there any other lies you've been waiting for the right time to tell me about?"

"No.  I don't think so."

"Well,"  Kendrick broke in.  "It's not really that important.  Since I've been telling our clients  that I'm taking the lead, we've made a lot of progress.  In fact,  there's only one more step we need to take.  And we can do it right  now."  He glanced at Macy.   "Before we relax and have some fun with each other.   I think you'll both agree that this is the  best move.  It will look better if Chucky's name isn't on our  incorporation papers, so we'll just sign his interest over to you,  Macy.  It will be under your maiden name, of course.  That will satisfy everyone.  And, just to keep it orderly, I've had papers  prepared to do the same with your personal property." 

"I don't understand," I said, sounding as confused as I felt.

"It's  simple," he went on.  "After I explained to our clients about the Maxwell problem and how I  fixed it, no one wanted to deal with you as a co-owner of the firm.  But  they won't mind if you're an employee.  With your part of the business  in Macy's name, the problem is solved.  But if your home and such are still in your name, the taxman might be giving  you a call."  

He  reached into an end table and took out a clipboard with several pages on it.  Kendrick came and  gave it to me, along with a pen.  Macy was peering hard in my  direction.  After having her become more assertive, and us not having  sex for a while, along with the changes already made in the business, and Kendrick's naturally commanding presence, I had no  willpower.  A strange calm settled over me and I signed everywhere he  indicated.  Then he put the papers back where they'd come from, removed  his jacket, and draped it over the arm of the couch.  

As he sat back next to my wife, she announced, "This calls for a celebratory kiss."   I began to get up but she was scowling at me.  "Not with the man who lied to me.  I mean with the one who's my new business partner."

Macy swiveled  around to face Kendrick.  She was stunning, in a flagrantly sensual  way, with the look she had given herself.  His dark hands went to her  pale upper arms and he drew her nearer.  Their lips met and my heart  stopped.  No, no, no.  It was like I was falling.  She stroked the back of his neck and he lowered one hand to  caress her thigh, at first directly below the elevated hem, and then  under the dress.  Even though his slacks weren't tight, I could see that  he was growing hard and his erection was enormous.  My mouth fell open.  As they broke the kiss my wife turned her head to  smile at me.

"What's the  matter, Chucky?  Are you upset because now I own all our assets?  Or  because Kendrick is your boss and controls the company?  And that your  pay will now be going into my private account, which you also just  signed the papers for?  Or is it something more personal?  Like that fact that I'm done with your pitiful performances  in bed and ready to try a real man for a change?  Aww.  Is that it?   Doesn't Chucky like it that he's going to become a cuckold?  Doesn't he  want to be Chucky the Cucky?"  She snickered.  

Kendrick scowled  at me.  His expression challenged me to defy him.  When I didn't react,  he got his mouth on Macy's neck and kissed, nibbled, and finally bit  her there.  She squealed with delight and clung to his strong body.   When he moved away, I saw a bright red love bite on her smooth skin.  He was a superior man and he had marked  his new lover.  I was quaking as she slid away from him, got her hands  at his crotch, and opened his fly.  She put her fingers into the front  of his pants and moved them around teasingly.  His bulge grew larger.  She undid his belt and unhooked his pants.  He  raised up so she could lower them, along with his boxer shorts.  His  slacks slid down to his ankles and I beheld the full glory of his cock  as her hands coaxed it the rest of the way to full stiffness.  

It was  easily ten inches, with a big knob.  She caressed it lovingly and  kissed the tip.  I had trouble drawing breath.  She glanced back over  her shoulder and gave me a devilish smile, then capped the head of his  dark, thick-veined tool with her sensual lips and sucked hard.  He grinned in my direction, took a sip of champagne,  and then place one big hand lightly atop her blond locks.  

"That's it, bitch," he said smoothly.  "If you want Daddy's cock, you have to make him happy first."

Without taking  his meat out of her mouth, she nodded.  Her hands ran over his muscular  thighs.  She made wet sounds, let him free, and licked her way up the  underside of his impressive length.

My wife  told him, "I want to make Daddy very happy."  She lapped under the head  of his cock.  "And to be his bitch.  His slutty hot bitch.  Cheating on  my wuss of a husband."  She held his shaft and rubbed her soft cheek  against it.  "Until poor Chucky breaks down and cries."

"Yeah," he  agreed.  "And that's probably just what he'll do when we tell him the  rest of our news.  You get back to that BJ, baby, while I give him the  word."  Macy got her mouth on him again and, to my amazement, took over  half of his length without a problem.  He was so much bigger than me.  She bobbed her head up and down on it while  he held me in my seat with just his riveting gaze.  "The other part,  Chuckles, is that Macy is now my woman.  And I don't want anybody else  touching her.  Least of all you.  So the new rule is that you keep your hands off her.  No touching.  No kissing.   The only exceptions will be if one of us tells you to.  Like right now.   Get down on your hands and knees, boy."

"But... but..."

"No buts, loser.  Except for her butt.  Which you can crawl over here and kiss.  Get to it, junior."

As if  in a trance, I dropped to my knees, got my hands on his expensive  carpet, and began crossing toward my wife.  She was worshipping his  cock, shamelessly lapping it, getting it as deep into her throat as she  could, and when her mouth was free, murmuring lovingly to it.  I sobbed as I approached her tight desirable ass.  The way she  was bending forward to service the big man, her dress had ridden up  enough in the back that I could see the lower portions of her buttocks.   I kissed the covered parts of her backside, left and right.  

Kendrick chuckled.  He told me, "Pull that dress up, little guy.  Get your mouth up close and personal with that perfect ass."

When I  raised the hem I was startled to find that my wife hadn't worn  panties.  I was confronted with her bare flesh, which I was reluctant to  kiss.  The seated man snapped his fingers at me.  I shuddered and  pressed my lips to each of her smooth cheeks in turn.  He snorted with derision.  

"Now," Kendrick  went on, sounding smugly satisfied, "since she owns everything and  you're going to have to show her proper respect, like if you want to get  lunch money and maybe a small allowance, let's see you plant a good  hard kiss right in the middle."  When I looked up at him, not wanting to comprehend what he was saying, he  clarified, "Get your face in the middle of her booty and kiss her where  she'll feel it the most.  And do it like you mean it, unless you want me  to give you a nasty beatdown."

My bride  took her busy mouth off his rigid rod long enough to tell me, "And if I  don't feel your tongue inside me, I'll tell on you to my boyfriend."    She gave his massive member a lip-smacking kiss.  "And you wouldn't want  that, now would you, No-Luck Chuck."  She giggled and resumed fellating the man who now controlled both her  and me.   

I sniffled, holding back tears of mortification and of shock at how much I  had lost.  My face went into the cleft of her rear end and I kissed,  first above and then below the indicated target.  Then I could delay the  distasteful inevitable no longer.  I fitted my lips against her pucker and delivered a lingering kiss.  Still, they  expected more.

She said,  with petulant impatience, "Kendrick, he's not doing it like I told him  to."  My spouse put extra pout into her voice as she said, "Macy wants  Chuckie's tongue deep in her.  Right now."

With a  moan of defeat, I got my face wedged back in place, kissed once, and  then touched her tightness with the end of my tongue.  I pushed my way  inside.  Probed.  Worked it in and out.  She wriggled her bottom against  my face.

Macy announced,  "He's doing it, Kendrick.  My weakling husband is making love to my ass  with his mouth."  She laughed cruelly.  "We've got all the legal papers  signed, but this really finalizes the deal.  And you can bet I'll never  kiss him after what he's doing now."

I had to keep pleasuring her that way while she unhurriedly lavished more  attention on her new lover.  At long last she made him cum.  I heard him  grunting, felt her rear entrance clenching, and listened as she made  sounds that told me her mouth was full.  Why hadn't she swallowed?  The answer came all too soon as she turned around  on her knees.  I took a deep breath, grateful to be done my odious  task.  But there was worse to come.  She got her small hand on my lower  face to tilt back my head.  Her thumb and forefinger applied pressure, making me pop open my jaws.  Macy leaned over my face,  aligning her mouth with mine.  Her cheeks were swollen out with  Kendrick's discharge, plus plenty of her accumulating saliva.  Her eyes  locked on mine and, still holding me in place, she began to part her lips in slow motion.  My employer's spunk appeared  and began to ooze toward my parted lips.  I made a gagging sound.  The  first of it drooled onto my tongue.  Though I couldn't form words, I  made sounds like you might hear from a schoolboy who was pinned down and being made to eat bugs.  I choked, dry heaved,  and shamed myself with a collection of strangled whimpers.  Macy  gradually got almost everything out of her mouth, making my suffering  last as long as possible.  She finished by gathering spit, hawking up whatever she could from her throat, and launching it  all into my waiting mouth.  I knew she would never be able to see me as a  man again.

"Damn," she said.  "That was fun.  And liberating."

Kendrick chortled.  "Paying back the chump for all the bad sex you had to put up with."

"Right?  I  mean, that thing between his legs is such a joke.  And it shoots off  way too quick.  But that won't be a problem anymore."  She looked at me  as I swallowed what she had sent into my mouth.  "Because you, husband  dearest, will never feel the inside of my pussy again with that miniature dick of yours.  The warm... wet...  tight... interior of my pussy.  But don't worry.  You will get to feel  it with your tongue."

Without thinking I said, "But I don't do that.  I've never, you know, gone down on you."

This time  they both laughed.  Kendrick said, "For crap's sake, stupid.  You just  ate her ass.  Now you think you won't have to eat her snatch?  You're  not just dumb in business.  You're an idiot in all kinds of ways."

My wife  stood up.  She looked down at me and made a show of licking her lips.   Then Kendrick unzipped her dress and she shimmied out of it.  She also  had no bra on, and her full bust gave a bounce as it popped free.  I  eyed her stunning figure hungrily, knowing that my appetites would now go unfulfilled.

"Aw," she  said, thrusting out her lower lip.  "Poor Chucky.  No penetration for  him.  No more bedroom fun with his wifey."  She cupped her hands under  her glorious tits and squeezed them together.  "And no more sucking on  these.  Or pawing them.  Or nuzzling them.  We'll have to come up with some other way for you to have your fun.  And  I'll have my fun with Kendrick, later tonight, or early tomorrow,  whenever he's ready to go again."

He smirked at what she's just said and suggested, "How about right now?"

"You mean you're good for more already?"

"Sure.  Why not?"

"Sorry.  It's  just that I'm used to Mister Shrinky Dick there.  The King of the 30  second screw.  And once he's had his fun, you can't expect anything else  from him for about 48 hours."

"That's sad.   But I'm ready, willing and able now.  And the best part for you, since I  just came once, is that it'll take me a lot longer before I shoot  again."

"Like... how long?"

"You ever hear any of those old songs about a 'one hour man'?  That's me."

"Whoa.  Before this you always outlasted my lost cause of a husband, but it never went on for that long."

"Because I was so excited just to try you on for size, girl."

I burst out, "Wait.  You two were already having sex?"

"Since that day he came around to introduce himself," she told me.  "And it was a hell of an introduction."

"You were...  It's not right that you..."  My outrage was short-lived.  We had  already gone far past the point where it meant anything.  I hung my head  and conceded, "All right."

Kendrick had  me untie and remove his shoes, then peel down his socks and set them  aside.  He stood up and got out of his pants and shorts.  Then my wife  unbuttoned his shirt, kissing his chest as she did it.  He was naked and  all she had on was a pair of sexy red heels.  They embraced and she ground herself against him.  He got both hands on  her bottom and squeezed it hard, making her squeal happily.  

They started toward his bedroom.  He ordered, "Come on with us.  But don't bother getting up."

So I  had to crawl after them, the taste of his salty cum in my mouth, so  defeated that I was close to weeping again.  They stretched out on top  of the covers and he toyed with her fabulous breasts.  Pangs of envy  tormented me.  She fondled his cock and soon had it standing up again.  He was so superior to me in so many ways.  Macy  spread her legs.  He got between them on his knees, then laid on top of  her.  

She said, "Please, Kendrick.  Put it in me."

"I don't know," he said.  "How much do you want it?"

She took  a breath.  I was looking at them from my subservient position, on all  fours alongside the bed.  Macy put her hands on his powerful shoulders.  

My wife  purred at him, "I want it so bad I'm tingling all over.  Just feeling  the end of your perfect cock against my pussy lips is driving me crazy.   I want it more than I've ever wanted anything before."  When he didn't  move she added, "And I for sure want it more than I ever wanted that hopeless gimp I married."

He needed to know, "But are you going to be a real ho for me?"

"You know  I am, you bastard.  I will open my mouth, spread my legs, and act like a  total slut anytime you so much as look like you want it.  I'll kiss my  way up your legs and suck that incredible cock until it unloads down my  throat.  I'll lick your balls.  Whatever you want."

Before she  could say anything else he surprised her by shoving himself into Macy's  pussy, which I'm sure was well lubricated from her obvious arousal.   She cried out as he began to spiritedly pump her.  My wife writhed under  him, impaled on his bone.  She wrapped her shapely legs around him and met his thrusts with savage jerks of her  hips.  But it was him who controlled the action, regulating the tempo,  deciding on the depth of his strokes, and always determining at what  angle to enter her at any given moment.  All his efforts were calculated to maximize her pleasure.  My bride gasped  and panted and mewled.  She shouted out his name.  Professed her  devotion.  And repeatedly vowed to never allow me a husband's access to  his wife's body.   She experienced two shuddering orgasms, neatly spaced apart. 

After what  must have been the full 60 minutes he predicted, Kendrick drove her  into a third and final climax.  She screamed and, still in full control,  he let himself finish.  They clung together and any hopes I might have  still harbored of winning her back, even partially, were crushed.  That was when I broke down and cried, hot  tears streaming down my cheeks, and remained where I was, blubbering and  sniveling.  

They drifted  into peaceful and contented sleep.  I stayed in that same spot, too  intimidated to dare to move.  After what must have been another hour,  they came out of their sex induced stupor, blinked and cuddled.  At last  they acknowledged my presence.  

"I'll bet you enjoyed watching us," Kendrick suggested.  

"No."  I sniffled.  "You took my wife."

Macy corrected, "He didn't take me, you dope.  I gave myself to him.  And will again.  Over and over."

"So," Kendrick  offered, "her and I are going to watch some TV.  I have to check the  business news.  In your new work assignment, you don't have to bother  with that.  And I want to get the sports scores.  But Macy tells me  you're not into that.  Just your doll collection."

I didn't even bother to tell him what I collect are action figures.  I  just said, "Yes, Sir."  It seemed like the right way to address him.  

Macy stretched,  giving me another tantalizing view of her round boobs with their  protruding nipples.  She said, "You can -- I don't know -- squeeze  yourself in under the bed.  Out of the way."

"Yeah," Kendrick agreed.  "That'd be pretty darn funny.  We'd be sleeping on top of you later." 

I got on my belly and started to wriggle my way between the bed's frame  and the floor.  He stopped me and declared that I should do it face-up.   So I did, fitting myself into the limited space.   I saw my wife's feet touch the floor.  Her face appeared.  She stuck  her tongue out at me and tittered at the sight I made.  Then I saw his  feet appear alongside hers and they vanished together.  Lying there,  alone with my thoughts, I couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened.  And the fact that I had become a  mere functionary in the company where I had formerly been a part  owner.  Plus, I no longer owned my home, cars, or anything.  Or at least  I wouldn't once those papers were finalized by lawyers.  

I dozed for a while and was awakened by the sounds of my wife and her  lover returning.  The bed made soft noises as they got onto it.  I was  anticipating at least a night's rest, but the two of them were soon  enjoying foreplay.  That led to yet another session of loud, animated sex, though merely a quarter long-lasting as the  earlier one.  In my position I was very aware of how wildly they were  behaving.  After that they slept but I couldn't.  My mind teemed with  thoughts of them doing more of the same, at every opportunity, while I was denied similar satisfaction. 

The next day, feeling bedraggled, I went to work.  My wife decided I  should go on public transportation, so she could have our car.  As she  pointed out to me, it would soon be hers alone.  I rode the bus.  They  hadn't allowed me to wash my face, brush my teeth, or even rinse my mouth, so the unpleasant smell and taste of  Kendrick's spunk was still there.  I got to the office and mechanically  went to my desk.  My new boss had already arrived.  I didn't know if it  was him who did it, but someone had put a framed picture of my wife alongside my computer.  It must have been taken the  night before, because her hair was tousled and her complexion was  slightly flushed, her shoulders bare, the upper halves of her wonderful  breasts visible, as if the image had been captured immediately after one of their bouts of sex.  

Niecy stopped by with a cup of hot coffee, like always.  Except that now, when I reached for it, she pulled it away.  

"Hey there, hot shot," she admonished.  "Don't go grabbing for my stuff."

I looked at her, that dusky brown face, short hair, and impressive bust.  Without thinking I said, "Yes, Ma'am.  I'm sorry."

"Damn straight, you're sorry.  And I want to hear that respectful tone all the time from now on.  Right, Chucky?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

It was as if I didn't have any willpower.  She sauntered off, giving  me an eyeful of her wide jutting bottom, encased in a tight skirt.   Almost before she was gone, one of the junior managers appeared.  He was  a young Black fellow named Lincoln.  Tall and slim, always neatly dressed, but with one of those 'fade' hairstyles and  a suggestion of a confrontational attitude always just under the  surface.  Except that this time his attitude was right out where I  couldn't miss it.

"Mister Chuck," he said with unwarranted familiarity.  "We're going  to be working together.  Kendrick wants me to take over the accounts you  still have.  He doesn't want you to be overworked."  He split that last  word into two parts, as if it had some special meaning.  Then he took the picture of Macy, held it up, and gave a  lopsided smile.  "That's one special woman you got there, Chucky.  I'm  guessing that your bedroom time is pretty special, too."

My face grew warm but I wasn't going to take that insolence.   At least he didn't know about my situation, I told myself.

I stated, "Yes, as a matter of fact, our love life is quite satisfactory.  My wife is devoted to me."

"Is that what you call it?  I mean, even though you've got this  picture of her, taken right after she just had the boss's  blacksnake making her do the horizontal bop?" 

"What are you saying?" I blurted.

"Just the truth, my man."  He sat on the corner of my desk and leaned  toward me.  "Unless you want to call Kendrick a liar.  Is that what  you're telling me?"

My voice got stuck in my throat.  I shifted around on my seat.  How  many people knew about my new status as a cuckold?  My lips began to  quiver.  Lincoln smirked at the way I was faltering under his blunt  statements.  I hung my head and said nothing.  He got up and pulled my wheeled chair out with me still on it.  Then he put  his long fingers on my keyboard and went to some site I didn't  recognize.  Suddenly I was staring at images of handsome Black men with  beautiful white women.  As he went past the home page, I witnessed interracial couples in all sorts of sexual  activities.  The men appeared calmly assured and the women seemed  gratefully enthused.  I couldn't look away from one couple who were  similar to Macy and Kendrick.  There was a slideshow of them that went from him talking to her, through them undressing each other,  the woman servicing him orally, both of them in bed having foreplay, and  then the pair in a succession of positions worthy of the Kama Sutra.   His cock was enormous and I marveled at how her vagina stretched to accommodate it.  

Lincoln said, "I set this up for you before you got here today.   Kendrick wants you to visit this page whenever you please.  So long as  it's at least once an hour.  And he says that when it starts to get you  horny -- and you know it will, sooner or later -- it's okay for you to play with yourself through your pants.  Just  don't take Little Willy out of his hiding spot."  He pushed my chair in  and slapped me hard on the back.  "Have fun, Big Chuck."  

All I could do was to stare at those disturbing pictures.  I explored  the site some more, stopping every time one of the women reminded me of  my wife.  Seeing dark hands on pale pink breasts, again and again, made  me take deep breaths to try to steady my already frazzled nerves.  There were two other young Black men who took a  special interest in me just then.  One of them was of average height,  kind of heavy, but solidly built.  The other was short and wiry, with  very alert eyes.  When I tried to leave that page, the first one told me not to.  The other one had me go to one  section that showed more of the same types of scenes, except with a  white man in each one, observing.  The white guys were uniformly weak  looking, most of them naked.  Some were just sitting meekly and watching.  Others were holding drinks on trays or, in one  case, licking the woman's feet while she was being ravished.  

I began to quiver.  It was so disturbing.  The smaller Black employee  snickered at my discomfort and navigated to still another subsection of  the page.  Again there was a white male in each photo, except that now  they all wore articles of lingerie.  Panties that made it plain they had small genitals.  Stockings on their hairless  legs.  Short nighties that allowed their unmuscular bottoms to peek  out.  

My tormentor leaned down to put his arm across my shoulders.  He  whispered, "I think you like these ones the best.  A guy who has his  wife taken away from him by a real man, there's got to be something  inside him that's not normal.  Like he doesn't fight back because he secretly wants it.  Because he's not a man himself.   He's more of a sissy.  And needs to admit to himself that he'd like to  play dress up and act all girly.  I'm just saying."

With those unsettling thoughts making me dizzy, I watched him and his  friend stroll away.  My attention returned immediately to the screen.   There was a white guy in bikini panties and a maid's cap, standing  obediently and passively by the bed, while a blond beauty who was presumably supposed to be his wife, was on her hands and  knees being taken from behind by a massively muscled Black stud.  I was  mesmerized as I slowly went through the full set of images, about two  dozen in all.  Not until I got to the end did I realize that my hand was in my lap and I had a raging hard-on.  I  snatched my hand away as if it had been burnt.  Suddenly it was  impossible to deny what had been said to me.  My nipples were alive with  sexual energy.  I wanted to masturbate.  I imagined my wife as the woman in that picture story, Kendrick as the man and, as  much as I told myself I didn't want it, myself as the sissy bedroom  maid.  For the rest of the day I kept being drawn back to that addictive  page.  

The rest of the week at the office was like that.  At home my wife  teased me visually with her body, constantly reminding me that I could  look but not touch.  She encouraged me to handle my penis, even insisted  on it, but warned me to not dare to make myself ejaculate.  She also delighted in mocking how small it was.  Most  evenings Kendrick would show up.  She wore slutty outfits to tempt him.   He obviously enjoyed having her in the role of his personal sex toy and  making her talk dirty and act worse.  I was usually kept naked.  Kendrick would occasionally swat my bottom with a rolled up  magazine or whatever else was handy, like a wooden kitchen spoon or the  metal ruler off my desk.  I was treated like a menial, picking up after  them and turning down the bed before they had sex.  

Back at work those three Black guys, with Lincoln as their leader,  never tired of tormenting me.  One of their favorite games was to take  me into the lavatory, make me expose myself, and masturbate.  Just like  at home, I wasn't allowed to finish.  They would make me take that picture of Macy from my desk and use it for  inspiration, while telling them about the great sex she was getting from  Kendrick and how she was like a whore with him.  They also hinted  around that maybe I could do the same for them.  I assured myself that they were just trying to get deeper into my mind with their  sadistic taunts.  Of course they didn't actually intend to use me for  any sort of sexual contact.  Did they?

The completed legal papers were shown to me so I would have no doubt  that now everything I formerly owned was in Macy's name.  Then Kendrick  declared that there could only be one man in the house and, since all my  sexual rights had been revoked, it couldn't be me.  That was when they started giving me feminine underthings to  wear.  I was soon stepping into panties and rolling stockings up my  legs.  Macy decided that it would look silly for me to have body hair,  even the minimal amount I possessed.  So she bought some sort of laser device with which I was required to keep myself  denuded of any and all 'fuzz' below my eyebrows.  And those brows were  soon plucked and shaped, not to an extreme degree, but enough to soften  my look and be noticed at work.

Now when the Black guys had me expose myself in the men's room, they  hooted at my hairless crotch.  I had to remove all my male clothes.   They were wildly amused at the articles of feminine clothing I had on  underneath.  They made he sashay around and strike suggestive poses.  Their talk about me being used for sex became more  insistent.  Lincoln ran his fingers down my arms.  The heavy guy, who  was called Chunk, tickled me under the chin.  And the short one, who was  named Rod, loved to pinch my bottom.  I was growing increasingly nervous about their threats becoming reality.  

One night in the bedroom, after I had stood by with bottled water so  the lovers could rehydrate themselves after vigorous sex, I was  introduced to a new form of degradation.  It wasn't bad enough that all I  had on was a lacy maid's cap, a tiny see-through apron that allowed them to viewe my privates (and the fact that I was  getting hard when I watched them romp in bed), and a pair of fishnet  stockings.  After Kendrick got off my wife and flopped onto his back, he  gave me an order I'd never heard before.  

"Yo, Chucky.  I shot an extra big load into my bitch.  Look at how  it's leaking out of her.  But I don't want her to have to run to the  bathroom to clean up.  She's too wiped out from all that screwing we  did.  So how about if you get on your belly between her legs, so you can fasten your mouth over her pussy, and clean up that  big mess I left, with your mouth.  I mean, if you don't mind.  If you  really want to.  It's up to you, wuss."

He was adding to my suffering by pretending I had a choice.  Macy  knew as well as I did that there was no alternative for me.  But  Kendrick plainly wanted to make me act as if I was happy to perform that  sickening job.  I gagged a bit.  Then, using the soft and slightly high voice they now favored for me to speak in, I  responded.

"I'd be thrilled.  Thank you, Sir.  I'd..."  My stomach was turning  over.  "... love to lick up everything you left... inside... Macy."

"That's terrific," he said.  "Because I sure wouldn't want you to lap up my cream if you had any problem with it at all."

"No, Sir," I reiterated as I got into position.  "None at all."

Less than a minute after those words, I was slurping up his plentiful  spunk and forcing myself to gulp it down.  My wife laughed softly.   Then she began to breath faster.  I was getting her stimulated.  The  thought that I was able to give her pleasure was somehow exciting to me, despite the grotesque circumstances.  I kept on  lapping.  Kendrick leaned in to kiss her while I brought her closer to a  finale.  She held onto him as I pushed her over the top and she had a  hip-bucking orgasm.  It was less than what he could give her, but I took a perverse pride in being able to satisfy  her at all.  And my little dick was rigid.  My balls hurt from being  aroused without release so often.  Macy relaxed.  She didn't thank me  but praised Kendrick for what he had made me do.

"In fact," he concluded, "from now on, every time I bust my nut and  fill you up, good old Chucky is going to clean you back out.  We can see  how much the freak likes it.  Everybody gets what they want.  And now  that he doesn't have a penny to his name, it'll be one more way for him to earn his keep." To me he said, "Yo, smooth  cheeks, sit up like a dog."

When I got into the required position they both saw my erection  straining against the front of my panties.  Macy giggled.  Kendrick  declared that I was really getting in touch with my true self.  I wanted  to deny it but the evidence provided by my body was impossible to contradict.  

Meanwhile, back at the office, Lincoln, Chunk and Rod were extra  eager for our next visit to the restroom.  I had a bad feeling about  what was going on.  Sure enough, they got me in here and had me strip  off my male outerwear again.  I stood there in what Macy had made me put on underneath, which was a garter belt and shiny  stockings.  The guys made me turn all the way around and show off my  hairless condition.  One of the white employees came in.  I thought he  would come to my defense, but he just laughed when he saw me.  After he left, I found out what was happening.

Lincoln announced, "Kendrick says you've been broken down enough that  we can start using you.  He eventually wants you completely ruined as a  man, and figures once we get busy with you, that'll take you places you  can never come back from."

"Please," I pleaded, automatically using my girly voice.  "Don't do anything to me."

Chunk explained, "We're not going to do anything to you, baby girl.  You're going to do something to us."

"Yeah," Rod amplified.  "Like getting down on your knees and sucking us off."

"And," Lincoln added with a wolfish grin, "after you get the last one hard, he gets to take your cherry."

"My...?"  I didn't understand.  "What are you saying?"

The tall Black man laughed.  "What I'm saying, Sissy Missy, is that  one of us is going to open you up for business.  Take your back-door  virginity."  When I didn't respond, he finished with, "Jam his cock up  your cute ass."

"Noooo."

"Yessss.  But we're not bad dudes.  So we'll let you choose who gets to lay pipe back there."

I understood.  My mouth opened and closed several times before I could form words.  "Can't we talk about this?"

"You won't be talking with your mouth full," Chunk pointed out.  "But  we've got to know who gets to pop your poop chute.  So which one of us  is the lucky dog?"

My eyes darted from one to the other.  Of course, the choice was  obvious.  Rod was the shortest of the three.  I haltingly told them that  he would be the one to... do the deed.  The others gave him  congratulatory slaps on the back.  Together they herded me into the end stall and made me sit on the toilet.  Lincoln stepped in  and lowered his fly.  He produced a cock of alarming size.  It was at  least eight inches soft.  He grabbed my longish hair with one hand and  his organ with the other.  Pulling my face forward, he slapped me repeatedly with his flaccid member.  

Then he snapped at me, "Get that mouth open, boy.  I know you want  it.  We've seen the way you look at us.  How you get all shivery when we  touch you.  And the boss tells us how much of a wimp you are when he  takes your wife.  So spread those lips and get ready.  I want plenty of licking, sucking and swirling."

The other two crowded in behind him, leaving the door open.  I  lowered my jaw and stuck out my tongue.  He set the end of his cock  slightly past my lips and left it there.  I was disabled by shock but  managed to close my mouth.  I sucked once.  Twice.  He began to get hard.  I could feel the knob of his manhood thickening  inside my mouth.  I moaned as I ran my tongue around the invading head.   Then I took in another two inches of the growing shaft.  Very soon it  was a full ten inches and I was rocking forward and back, sliding it in and out.  He sighed loudly and told me I was 'a  good little faggot'.   He gripped my ears and began raping my face.   When he hit the back of my throat I gagged, but after a few minutes of  him slowing down and attacking that area in stages, I was surprised to find that I could swallow him into my  throat.  

"There you go," said Chunk.  "No straight guy can gobble meat like that.  Only a true sissy can handle it that good."

"Truth," seconded Rod.  "I'll bet the sissy bitch has been dreaming  of this moment.  Look how greedy she's getting.  And see that.  She's  got Linc's balls on her chin.  Like she's trying to earn a gold star or  something.  Wants to graduate to tricking on the streets.  Dressed up all slutty.  Working some nice dark alley down  in the hood."

I was horrified by what they were suggesting.  Of course I wasn't  gay.  Didn't want to do this.  And definitely wasn't interested in  prostituting myself.  Was I?  That was when I noticed that my penis was  stiff.  Lincoln spotted it, too, and pointed it out to the others.  For them it was the final confirmation that I wanted  everything they were doing to me.  I sniffled as Lincoln pumped my mouth  in slow motion, extending his pleasure.  After another five minutes he  backed out until only the head remained inside.  At his command I sucked it hard, while stroking his thick shaft with one  hand and massaging his scrotum with the other.  He growled and blasted  his cream.  It was thick and salty.  Drops of it escaped the corners of  my mouth and fell onto my chest.  Some ran down the back of my throat.  He ordered me to milk out every last drop  and gulp it all down.  I was sickened but I did it.  

Then he stepped away and Chunk immediately took his place.  It turned  out that his cock was slightly smaller than the first one.  He had me  kiss it into full life, murmur endearments to it, and then suck it in an  inch at a time, until it was planted in my throat.  I breathed through my nose, inhaling his strong male musk.  He  humped my mouth unhurriedly while I clung to his hips.  The others joked  about how I was still hard.  I wished desperately that my arousal would  subside but it stubbornly remained.  Unlike Lincoln, Chunk buried himself halfway down my gullet and shot his load  straight toward my stomach, which was nauseated and getting worse.  

After I had licked Chunk clean, Rod put himself in front of me.  I  hoped my calculation had been correct, and that he was smaller between  the legs than the others.  Especially because of where he was going to  stick himself after I got him rigid with my mouth.  But I was denied even that small consolation.  The others laughed  heartily as I goggled at his enormous cock.  It was eleven inches,  hanging there like some evil serpent, the head exceptionally large.  I  whimpered and tried not to cry.  He had me use both hands to coax it to readiness.  It gained one more inch.  The dark  swollen helmet bumped against my lips and I opened them to accept it.   The men jeered at what they identified as my desire for more  penetration, oral and then the other kind.  

As soon as he was fully up and ready, Rod had me stand, turn around,  bend forward, and grab onto the rim of the bowl.  My bottom was at the  perfect level for him to assault.  There was a liquid soap dispensers at  the sink.  Chunk brought it over and Rod used it to liberally lubricate his oversized organ.  The tip of his  slick cock pressed against my unviolated tightness.  My nose started  running.  I began to babble.  He pushed once and, with a burst of pain,  the fat head was inside me.  Inch by painful inch, he inserted the rest, until his thighs were touching my buttocks.

"It's official, Chucky," Lincoln said.  "You are a Grade A homo.   Give that sweet ass a wiggle to tell my man Rod you're ready for him to  drill you.  Go on now.  Shake your moneymaker."

"Yeah," said Chunk.  "Shake a tailfeather.  Heh, heh, heh."

I gave my rump a few twitches.  Rod wanted more.  He told me to twerk  myself on his impaling cock.  I knew what that dance move was and  imitated it the best I could, which started him squeezed my hips and  then meeting my back-thrusts with forward jerks of his hips.  Soon I was caught up in it.  Despite the pain, I continued to  cooperate.  Soon the discomfort and shame were joined by new  sensations.  My dick pulsed and my nipples tingled.  He gave me a long  and masterful plowing, still taking his time, until I was moaning with needs I didn't understand.  At the same time, I felt  my male personality becoming unmoored.  It was set adrift, caught up in  strange currents, and was soon beyond my reach.  What would replace it?   I was in some weird sexual preference limbo, unsure of my orientation and what I might respond to.

It was so demeaning to be bent over that way, used carelessly,  treated as if I wanted it.  I panted and quivered all over.  In spite of  myself, I kept pushing my rear back at him, meeting his insistent  strokes.  The others joked about what a quick learner I was, and how I must have thought about this often in the past.  While  he continued stretching me back there, they discussed how my wife was  completely dedicated to Kendrick.  They asked me if I liked being in the  bedroom with them, and having to wait on them like hired help.  And all the while, Rod never stopped his  piston-like action.  I began to fall into a trancelike state, dictated  by the rhythm he set.    

My attention shifted, however, when Rod began to furiously pump me.   He was rapidly approaching his climax.  All at once he grunted loudly,  dug his fingers into my soft flesh, and gave half a dozen violent  thrusts.  He was shooting his spunk deep into my guts.  I wept uncontrollably, knowing that something irreversible had  just happened.  He finally pulled out and wiped his slimy prick on my  buttocks.  I collapsed to my knees, hugging the commode.  Lincoln told  me to clench my ass so nothing would leak out.  Fully tamed, I did it automatically.  As I knelt there, my body wracked  by sobs, brutalized ass ablaze with pain, I heard female laughter.  From  that mortifying position I looked back over my shoulder and saw Niecy  leering at me.  She had something in her hand that I couldn't fully see.

"Get out of there, you little sissy pecker.  Come on.  Crawl over here and get what I've got for you."

I got myself turned around in the enclosure and started toward her,  feeling like the lowest, trashiest person possible.  When I got there I  looked up at her, barely daring to believe that this was a woman I had  once lusted after.  She let me see what has in her hand, a tampon still in its wrapper.  She made a show of peeling  off the cover and dropping it.  Then she got behind me.  Rod came around  and used his dark hands to part my ass cheeks.  He also got in several  of those painful pinches he loved to deliver.  Then the Black secretary set the end of the sanitary product against my  recently misused pucker and shoved it in.  She got it deeply inserted.  I  could feel the string hanging out, brushing against my balls, which  were drawn up tight.  And still that unwanted erection persisted.  

"There you go, faggot.  That'll keep you nice and neat till you get  home to your hot wife.  And her super-fine lover."  She laughed softly.   "You've got cum breath and you stink of sweat and sex.  Now how about  you get yourself put back together and meet me in your office?"

Struggling to my feet, backside hurting, I gathered my discarded  clothes and got myself dressed.  Lincoln told me that if I tried to  rinse my mouth he would slap me stupid.  

I nodded and told him, "Yes, Sir."

When I staggered out of the restroom and reached my office, there was  a workman scraping my name off the frosted glass pane on the door.  I  could only stand there and shake my head.  When I edged past him and  entered, there was Niecy seated at my desk.  Except that I saw my nameplate was in the trash.

"Welcome to my new crib," she said with a nasty grin.  "Since the  last of your accounts went to Chunk and Rod, there's not much for you to  do."  She rolled back from the desk on the chair that used to be mine.   "So until we get you set up as our errand sissy and whatever else you're going to be, how about if you spend the rest of  the day under my desk, where I won't have to worry about you seducing  any more of our male employees in the john.  Go on.  Strip back down to  your girly undies.  Then just back in under there."

I meekly shed my male clothes, got down on the floor and did as she  instructed.  There was a modesty board behind me and the kneehole was  small enough to begin with, so that I was hunched down and very  confined.  She rolled in again and I had to squeeze back further.  Her thick but shapely legs were almost touching me.  I  had to move my hands to make room for her square-toed shoes with their  two inch block heels.  I could smell their leather.  I could also inhale  her feminine musk and a hint of the mild flowery perfume she wore.  It was claustrophobic in that tight space.  She hiked  up her skirt so I was looking straight at her bare inner thighs, above  her stocking tops, and the crotch of her pale yellow panties, which was  molded to her mound.  There was a damp spot at the center of her pussy.  I shivered and felt my spontaneous erection  at last softening, when I least would have expected that to happen.   Why didn't I stay aroused when confronted with so much visual female  stimulation?

After work, the trip to Kendrick's luxury apartment on a public bus  was uncomfortable in so many ways.  Not only was I still sore as I sat  on the firm seat, but I knew I reeked of sexual odors.  My mouth and  lower face were still scented by semen.   And as always, people were peripherally aware of my shaped eyebrows.  I  stumbled into the building but was escorted back out by security.  They  pointed me toward a service entrance on the side, where I had to climb  many flights of steps up to my boss's penthouse.  That made me perspire, and the reek of cum got stronger.  When I arrived  at the door it was locked.  I knocked, but not too hard.  

The intercom hissed to life and Kendrick's voice said, "Hello.  Who is it, please?", with excess politeness.  

"It's me," I said in a strained, high-pitched whisper.  "Chucky."

"Chucky who?"

"Macy's husband."

"Oh, she doesn't have a husband anymore.  Turned out he was a sissy  faggot.  Likes to act girly and try to attract men.  Is that you?"

"I..."  What could I say.  The last thing I wanted was to be left out in the hallway.

"Yes, that's me."

"The swishy queer?"

As much as I didn't want to say it, I told him,  "Yes.  Yes, Sir.  I am the... swishy queer."

The door finally opened.  He stood there in a silk smoking jacket,  with a big grin on his dark face.  But he was blocking the doorway.

He said, "And?"

"May I come in?" I asked in my girly voice.  "Please?  Sir?"

Kendrick sighed loudly.  He looked back into the spacious apartment  and said, "Macy, do you want to see your kinky fag of a husband?  Who  stinks like a gay whorehouse?"

I heard her laugh.  "Sure.  I want to hear all about his day at work."

The tall Black man stepped aside and I entered his living space.  My  wife appeared, wearing the tiniest of dressing robes.  It barely covered  her pussy.  The top wasn't pulled tight and I could see her desirable  tits halfway exposed.  

She shook her head and advised me, "You need to be out of your boy clothes.  Let's see what you have on underneath."

As much as it shamed me, I removed my outerwear and stood there in  just the garter belt and shiny stockings.  Macy came close to sniff me  and then made a show of recoiling.  

Sneering at me, she wrinkled her nose and announced, "You smell like a  used condom.  What were you doing in the office today?  Were you  offering yourself to those handsome Black guys?"

That was when I broke down.  Throwing one arm across my chest and  putting my opposite hand over my privates, like a girl trying to  preserve her modesty, I began to cry.  And automatically slipped into my  feminine voice.  "It was terrible.  Those guys took me into the lavatory again.  But this time they said Kendrick told  them they could do things to me.  And they did."

Putting on a sympathetic face, my bride wanted to know, "What did they do to you, Chucky?"

"They got me into one of the stalls and made me sit on the toilet and they took out... they made me take out..."

She leaned forward, as if she couldn't guess what came next.  "Yes?"

"The three of them...  I mean two... got out their... penises..."  I  had to stop for a moment to slow my breathing.  "And they made me touch  them and... and... perform fellatio."

"Chucky," she said calmly.  "I think you're not being honest with  yourself.  Or with us.  Please don't say things so politely.  Just use  the vernacular.  Tell us the way those awful Black guys would say it."

Gagging a bit, I made myself say, "They had their cocks out and made  me... I had to..."  It was so shameful.  "I had to give them blowjobs.   Suck them off."

"Did you have to take your time, and act like you were a depraved  homo cocksucker?  Were you kissing their cocks and stroking them and  doing everything you could to please them?"

"Yes," I confessed, stupidly imagining she felt sorry for me.

"Oh my."  In a confidential tone she asked, "And did you swallow?"

"I... "  A sob escaped me.  " …did."

Macy laughed derisively.  "Maybe you swallowed because you love cum  so much.  And you gave such good BJs because you really are a total  cock-gobbler."

"No," I said tearfully.  "You know that's not true."

Kendrick stepped in, suddenly angry.  "Are you calling my woman a liar?"

"What?  No.  I was just correcting her because..."

That was as far as I got.  He grabbed my by my bare arm and spun me  around, marched me across the room, sat on a wooden chair, and dragged  me across his muscular thighs.  His arm went up and his hand came down  hard, smacking my bare bottom, left-right-left-right, while I howled and blubbered, tears streaming down my cheeks.  At last  he stopped and rolled me off, so that I landed hard on the floor.

He stood and ordered, "Now tell my woman what ELSE happened.  And  don't ever contradict her or call her a liar again."  His smoking jacket  had fallen open and I got an eyeful of his heavy cock, dangling in  front of me.  

My wife stood next to him and he put his long arm around her waist, pulling her against him.  She looked at me expectantly.

I made myself stop panting and told them, "After I sucked off two of  them, the third one, Rod, made me do him too, and then stand up and bend  over, with my hands on the edge of the toilet."

Kendrick inquired, "Did you wag your bottom at him?"

What could I say?  If I told the truth, I risked more spanking.  So I said, "Yes, Sir.  I wagged my bottom at him."

"Why?"

"Because..."  I decided to let them hear the kind of self-humiliating  words they wanted.  "... I'm a little fairy faggot and I hoped he would  screw my ass.  I loved feeling him hold my hips.  And I was so happy  when he started to press the end of his tool against my rosebud.  It felt so good when he shoved it partway in.  I  mean, it hurt, but it was so wonderful at the same time."  I sniffled.   "And then he buried himself in my ass up to his balls and banged me  slowly at first, but then really hard."  

My wife said, "You must have been in pussy-boy paradise."

"Yes, Ma'am.  I was."

"Because you've been craving Black cock all along.  Even while you were still passing yourself off as a husband with me."  

"It's true," I lied. 

She continued with, "And then what happened?"

"They let me out of the stall and I was on the floor and Niecy was  there.  She..." I sobbed.  "... stuck a tampon into my bottom.  So the  spunk wouldn't leak out."

"So then you hurried to us because you knew we'd want a full report."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Kendrick offered, "Plus, you were hoping you could watch us screw.   Because you know you're totally inadequate to satisfy your wife.  She  needs me to do it.  And you're such a pervert that you like seeing my  big Black cock in her.  Just like in all that IR porn you can't stop watching at work."

Instead of pointing out that Lincoln made me watch those dirty videos, I just agreed, "Yes, Sir.  I'm a kinky sex freak."

"Damn right you are.  But we understand."  He removed Macy's robe and  she got him out of his smoking jacket.  He massaged her full impressive  bust.  "So crawl on into my bedroom and we'll give you a show you'll  never forget."

"After all," my wife contributed, "you need some consolation, now  that you don't have a cent to your name, no car, no house, and you lost  your position at work and from now on will be the office sissy.  Running  simple errands, cleaning the bathrooms, maybe being trusted with simple computer tasks."

The reality of all that came crashing down on me.  They started for  the bedroom and I trailed along on all fours.  I tried to watch my  wife's delightful bottom but my eyes kept straying to Kendrick's firm  buttocks.  I was so confused.   They got on the bed and began foreplay.  She told me to stand in the corner facing them.  He  gave me permission to touch myself.  I didn't want to add more  masturbation to my growing list of humiliations, but I needed relief so  badly.  I got my hand on my dick but he told me to just use the thumb and first finger.  Kendrick said that would be  enough for such a tiny dick.  I did, and stood there with their eyes on  me, tugging myself, mortified beyond belief.  

The two of them got busy.  He kept her moaning and yelping for what  must have been an hour.  I wasn't sure if I was allowed to finish, so I  kept myself on the edge for the entire time, with my balls throbbing  painfully.  At last, after her third climax and a violent ejaculation for him, they were done.  Both of them lay on  their sides, him behind her, and watched my helpless performance.  

"All right," said Macy.  "You can make that little thing squirt."

"But I don't want your mess on my carpet," Kendrick cautioned.  "So you have to catch it in your hand."

"Yeah," added my bride with sadistic glee.  "And then you can lick it  all up and swallow it down.  You know, because you love cream so much."

Kendrick concluded with, "Even though what you make will probably be more like skim milk.  All thin and watery."

I sniffled but didn't stop stroking.  She made me stop and play with  my nipples for a half minute.  That put me on the brink.  I resumed my  self abuse and knew I was seconds away from shooting.  Making sure my  hand was correctly positioned, I pumped myself harder and fired warm wetness into my palm.  Not until every last drop  was coaxed out did I stop.  They were waiting with eager attentiveness.   I brought my hand up slowly to my mouth and began to slurp up the  puddle I had made.  It wasn't as thick as Lincoln's or Chunk's, or Kendrick's when I cleaned up my wife's sloppy pussy, but  it was thick enough.  I choked it down while they enjoyed my shame.  

"There you go," said Kendrick.  "Now get your mouth on Macy's snatch and be reminded how much better a real man's spunk is."

Climbing onto the foot of the bed, I did that too.  My wife enjoyed  my tongue as I endeavored to get every drop.  They hugged and kissed  while I disgraced myself.  When I was done and sat up, Kendrick put his  big foot against the middle of my chest and shoved hard, sending me backwards off the bed and onto the floor again.  I lay  there for long seconds before getting up onto my haunches.  

"We're going to sleep for a while," he said.  "You stay exactly where  you are.  And try not to think about how you wanted to see your wife  taken away from you by a capable Black man, or how you secretly longed  to have those three guys use you, which they'll be doing all time now.  And definitely don't think about how I gave your  office to Niecy."

Macy made sure to tell me, "And definitely don't think about how you  are flat broke, and completely dependent on me for a place to live and  anything to eat.  In the mornings, if I give Kendrick's glorious Black  cock a proper sucking, and then spew his cream and my spit all over a bowl of dry cereal, you'll be glad to get it and  remember to thank us.  Right?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I said.

"Oh, and your silly doll collection.  I think you should use those as  inspiration when you yank on your little pickle.  You can go back and  forth between the boy dolls and the girl dolls.  Rub your baby pecker on  them.  And shoot all over their bodies."

"So you can have fun licking them clean."

They both grinned at me.  I just looked at them.  At my wife's  perfect body.  And her lover's magnificent Black cock.  While I thought  about how my action figures would be used to add to my disgrace.  I  would be doing that, recreating this scene, and acting out many others like it, every day, while they used me as their  plaything and did whatever they pleased to my body... and my mind.

*********