A Night On The Town! By THRONE (20 pages) (Patreon)

A Night On The Town!

By THRONE

© 2019-2021 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​[email protected]

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.

A Night On The Town!

By THRONE

"B... but, I thought you were giving me tonight off from..." Chucky motioned toward what he was wearing. "... all of this."

His wife Doreen, a busty blonde, shook her head. "No, Sucky," she calmly corrected. "What I said was that I'd give you tonight off from dressing pretty around the house. I never said you wouldn't get to look all girly somewhere else."

Doreen was sitting on the edge of their bed and he was standing right in front of her. She checked the clothes that had him so

upset. There was a loose top with spaghetti straps. It ended before reaching his flat but soft tummy. Then there was a skirt, which was so small that it might have been made out of few bandanas. On his feet were sandals with thick cork soles. She smiled approvingly at how much of his skin was left bare, and all of it denuded of hair. Then she ruffled his light brown hair, which fell past his ears (recently pierced and fitted with studs), and touched the bottom of his neck in back. She fussed with it in front, where it covered his forehead. Then she stepped back to admire the look she had given her short slender spouse.

"Almost perfect," she declared. "All you need now is a touch of make-up."

He pouted and blinked back tears. "Ever since you started seeing Buster, I get treated so mean."

Her eyes narrowed and her full-lipped mouth turned down at the corners. He recognized the warning expression.

She told him, "I don't want you saying anything bad about Buster and me. You know why I had to start seeing him. Don't you?"

Before he could answer, she took the front of his pleated mini-skirt and raised it. What she exposed was a bald crotch and laughably small genitals. He reached toward her hand but then stopped himself. It was better not to try to stop her, no matter what she wanted to do. He had learned that lesson the hard way, over and over. Just this afternoon he had broken one of her favorite wine glasses while washing dishes. He shouldn't have had that expensive piece in the sink with the regular dishes. And he

needed to be extra careful when wearing the rubber gloves he always donned for that job. That broken glass earned him a hard spanking. She had put him over her lap. All he had on at the time was a ruffled apron, so his backside was totally accessible. Doreen had swatted it mercilessly, scolding him the entire time for being so careless and clumsy. Even now, hours later, his nether cheeks were still pink and sore.

Chucky's wife gave his skirt a tug, to refocus his attention. He stopped thinking about his spanking and returned his mind to the present. She flicked the end of his tiny tool with a fingertip and said, "If you had more than this pink peanut to use in bed, we could still be having a sex life like other married couples. But this puny pecker has never given me a single orgasm. Even if you could last more than sixty seconds, it wouldn't be able to put me over the top. So, you left me with no other choice than to find a lover. It's not as if I WANTED to cheat on your, Sucky. You forced me to switch to a long, thick, rigid, Black cock that's attached to a tall strong man who can keep it up for an hour at a time.

The weakling husband hung his head in shame. She was right. Doreen let the front of his skirt fall back into place. She smoothed it down, accidently-on-purpose giving him a quick thrill. His miniature member twitched. He gazed longingly at her oversized bust, so well displayed in a stretchy, low-cut top. She noticed where his eyes went and put her hands under those massive mams.

Doreen bounced her boobs up and down. She reminded him, "You know you're not allowed to play with these any more. No

sucking on my fat nipples. No burying your face between these warm hills. Poor Sucky. But that's what happens when you're useless in bed. Only Buster gets to handle these puppies. Remember how we showed you what he can do? Putting his gorgeous stick between them? And it's so long that I can still get the head of it in my mouth? Imagine what that feels like, titty-fucking me while I suck his knob. But hey. I take care of your needs too, don't I?"

He sniffled. "Not really. All you let me do is... you know."

"Jerk off? Is that what you're trying to say?" She chuckled. "Be grateful you get to do that. I can cut you off from those sessions of hand-pussy, if you don't show me a better attitude."

He whimpered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get out of line." She always found fault with him. Then he had to apologize and ask for forgiveness, even if he didn't think she was being fair. "Please don't be mad at me."

"Well, right now I don't have time to worry about your behavior." She smiled to herself. "Buster will show up soon. I told him about you ruining my set of wineglasses and he thought up a perfect way for you to make up for it."

"I only broke one," Chucky pointed out.

She sighed. "Yes, but that leaves the set incomplete. So now..." She slowed down her words, as if speaking to someone with low comprehension skills. "I have to... replace... the entire set. And that... is not... cheap."

Chucky cringed and drew into himself. He was instantly concerned about whatever solution Buster had come up with. His wife got up and selected some cosmetics from her dresser. She returned to where she had been sitting and set the items next to her. Then she went to work on his smooth face. There were a variety of products for his eyes, blush for his cheeks, and blended red and magenta lipsticks on his mouth. She examined the results and nodded self-congratulations.

"Now get me that plastic spritz bottle, the green one. And my rat-tail comb. Plus, the narrow brush, the one I DON'T use to swat your ass."

He fetched the desired things and set them on her other side, opposite the cosmetics. She plied the comb, sprayed some of the product that would add body to his hair, and finished with the brush. When it was all done, she directed him to the mirror above her dresser. When Chucky saw made him squeak with alarm. His wife had never given him this appearance before. His face was suggestively... whorish. It made what he was wearing seem lewdly inviting. And his hair was so much fuller. Before he could fully absorb the shock of his slutty image, they both heard the front door opening. That had to be Buster. Doreen had given him his own key.

She told her shamed husband, "Go show him how hot you look. I'll be right out."

Hating every second of it, Chucky went to greet the man who had taken possession of his wife. His steps were short and

hip-wagging. As he entered the living room, there stood Buster, all six-feet-plus of him, broad in the shoulder and narrow in the hip, with an unmistakable bulge in his pants. Chucky performed a quick curtsy.

The Black man laughed. "Damn, Sucky. You got all tramped up." He held up an undersized purse by its gold chain. "My cousin Zelda gave me this for you to carry. There's some jewelry inside that'll be perfect for what you're going to be doing."

Chucky wanted to ask what that would be, but he was too afraid of the big man to risk overstepping his very limited bounds. Instead, he automatically gave a second curtsy.

Buster made a critical face. "You can do a better dip than that, Vanilla Icing."

"Yes, Sir," he said in his wispiest female voice.

The controlled man's cheeks pinked as he did a deep curtsy. When he sank down and simultaneously lifted his skirt from the sides, his immature male parts were exposed. Buster let out a deep rumbling laugh and told him to repeat his gesture of respect. As Chucky obeyed, Butch moved his dark hand down and up in synch with him. When Doreen's lover kept lowering and raising his hand, the wimp was obligated to match it with another dip each time, repeatedly displaying his pitiful penis.

"Damn," Buster marveled. "That snowdrop is so freaking small. It's like a pink baby mouse peeking out of a mousehole. Or

bite-size piece of sushi. Ain't no surprise your big-tit wife needs me in her bed."

As if on a cue, Doreen appeared. "That was so flattering, babe," she said to Buster. Using her forearms, she pushed her overgrown boobs together, so that their tops ballooned up out of her scoop-neckline. "Poor Sucky misses these milkers so much. It used to get his baby dick all excited when he sucked on my nipples."

"Well," Buster said, "instead of those strawberries on your knockers, he'll get his mouth on something more to his sissy tastes."

Chucky didn't like the sound of that. Buster embraced Doreen and they shared a prolonged kiss. Then he handed over the purse, saying it contained something for Sucky. She took out a cheap necklace from which hung a Queen of Spades pendant. Then there were half a dozen plastic bracelets. Finally, she produced wide, thick, hoop earrings. Out came the studs and in went the wires. Those rings nearly touched his bare shoulders. He had to strut around, which made them swing non-stop. Buster instructed him to assume a series of trashy poses, pulling back his shoulders, cocking his hips to the side, and shoving out his bottom.

"Okay," the towering man concluded. "As much as I'd like to stay and turn up the heat in the bedroom, we got to get to getting. Take our Miss Sucky for a ride."

"I have to go somewhere?" the husband asked unhappily. Despite the restrictions placed on his speech, he wanted to know, "May I at least put on some panties?"

"Nah," Buster told him. "Where you going, you don't need them."

It was only a short walk to Buster's large impressive car, but for Chucky it was like a mile of mortification. What if the neighbors saw him? He was glad to get into the spacious back seat, but his dread reasserted itself when they left the familiar street and headed into the city. All too soon they were on a narrow street, between looming buildings. There was only one business open, a bar called Smokey's, with a seedy exterior and a few loiterers on the litter-strewn sidewalk. Across from it was a wide alley that gave access to the back doors of multiple businesses, for deliveries. There were dumpsters and oil-drum trash receptacles lining its side, as well as garbage strewn on the ground. Buster pulled into the deeply shadowed space and stopped.

"Out you go," he cheerfully told Chucky.

"What?" The hapless husband took a calming breath, though it didn't have the desired effect. "Where are we going?"

"You mean where are YOU going?" Buster chortled. "This is your new place of business. To pay for them wineglasses, you got to earn some money. This is a low-income neighborhood, if you know what I mean. So, try asking for twenty bucks for a blowjob, but take whatever dudes will pay."

"You mean oral sex? But I'm not gay. And it's a crime to do -- you know -- what you're saying. Besides, this alley is disgusting... and dangerous."

"Not my problems," Buster told him. "You getting out, or am I throwing your pansy ass onto the street?"

Chucky was trembling. "What if somebody threatens me?"

"Offer them a deep discount. Deep discount for deep throat." Buster snickered. "Negotiate the price. That's part of being a working girl."

The desperate husband got out of the car and stepped into deeper shadows. He was so vulnerable. His wife tossed him the purse. He fumbled it and had to bend over to retrieve what he'd dropped.

She told him, "You can put your earnings in there."

He wanted to know, "What can I do if a whole bunch of guys come after me?"

She suggested, "Give them a special group price."

The pair in the car laughed uproariously. They shared a lip-locked kiss and then Buster drove through the wide alley and they were gone. Chucky stood there shivering, not from cold but with fear.

In the car, Doreen said, "How long are you leaving him out there for?"

"The whole night, I figure."

"That might be too much. I mean, it was terrific, dumping him like that. The look on his stupid face was priceless. And after sucking a few Black dongs, he'll think twice before complaining about anything else. But leaving him there so long might be excessive."

He went partway around the block and parked at the corner. "Let me make a call." He hit a preset number. "Yo, Smokey. How's it going, my man? Yeah. I got a news flash for you. Just put a sissy hooker in that alley across from your place. What? No, I ain't turning into a pimp. Remember that blazing hot white bitch I brought in the other time? It's her husband. He needs some schooling, so he'll learn to keep his yap shut around her. I figure the best way to teach him, is if he had to keep his mouth open for some of the brothers. In fact, a lot of the brothers. So, here's what I want you to do. Tell the guys to head out there in twos and threes. They have to pay, but shouldn't give more than a few bucks each. Use that faggot mouth like they're mad at it. They can bust a nut on her face or in her hair. Whatever. It's okay to slap, but don't punch. And leave her ass alone. I mean, they can feel it up and finger-bang it for fun, but no trips down the old chocolate highway. Right? Cool. Everybody who takes her gets a drink on me. Run a tab and I'll take care of it tomorrow. Okay. I'll call later for a progress report."

Doreen said, "Whoa. You really thought this out ahead of time."

"When you said about the wine glasses, and how he had to pay for replacements, everything just fell into place. Now how about we head over to my crib for some fine times."

"How about if we stay right here for a while, and I suck your perfect cock like a top-class ho. I've been practicing with a big black dildo and think I can finally deep-throat that whole monster of yours. But I want to do it here, so I can be close to Sucky while he's taking his first half dozen or so. Deal?"

"You get my balls on your pretty chin, and we that'll seal the deal for real."

She smiled and rubbed his titanic tool through his tight pants. "Oh, I'll make it real."

Meanwhile, back in the alley, Chucky was standing next to a dumpster and hugging himself. Maybe no men would find him there. If he didn't earn enough money, however, it would cost him some nasty punishments. As he was sorting out the possible outcomes of this horrid situation, he heard footsteps. Three young Black men entered the alley and went straight to him. They were of different heights and body types, with a variety of hair preferences and a mix of beards and mustaches. All of them appeared threatening to the quivering white guy.

"Holy crap," said one. "Look like there's white meat on the menu."

"With a side order of sissy."

"In the dark, all mouths are the same."

"I heard tell that a sissy mouth is better. They started out as guys, so they know how a man wants their pucker on his pecker."

"And they work it extra good, because they love what they doing." His dark face was broken by a wolfish grin. "You love this line of work, don't you, pussy-mouth?"

Chucky could barely get the words out as he said, sounding more girly than ever, with an attempt at adding seductiveness, "I love it more than anything. Um, would twenty dollars be okay?"

"Each?" the man said cannily. "Or for all three together?"

"Oh. I meant... I mean... If it's all right with you..."

The man held up a silencing hand. "How bout we pay according to how good you gobble our meat. The pork rolls. Tube steaks." Without waiting for an answer, he demanded, "What you called, bitch?"

"I'm..." He almost said 'Chucky'. At the last moment, he had the presence of mind to substitute, "Sucky. I'm called Sucky."

"Because you love to suck cock," the man concluded, undoing his pants.

Chucky was so used to going along with thoughts like that, he responded without thinking. "Yes, Sir. I love it so much."

As the man produced his shaft, the involuntary sissy shuddered. He thought Buster was exceptional, but this man shared the same impressive length and girth. The head was fat and dark. There were prominent veins curling around every inch of it.

"Well," the Black man said, "you can't reach it standing up. Aren't you supposed to be on your knees, cocksucker?"

"I..." Chucky's heart was in his throat. Very soon, if some miracle didn't occur, that cock would take its place. He sank down slowly. "Yes, Sir. I'm sorry. Thank you." His mind was well conditioned.

When he reached out uncertainly to touch it, the dangling sausage began to slowly engorge. Chucky's fingers wrapped partway around that fat probe. It was warm and grew increasingly firm. He gave it a few experimental strokes, which made its growth accelerate. Very soon it had attained its full dimensions, which were enviable. He couldn't keep from comparing that heavy root to his own miserable offshoot. There was no way to postpone the inevitable any longer. With the other two Black men leering down at him, he licked the proffered rod, all along its underside. Then he capped the knob with his mouth, rattled by how much space it took up. He sucked. What else should he do? Right. He needed to use his tongue. First, he ran it over the sensitive frenum, right under the knob. That got him a moan of pleasure from his customer. Then he slid his tongue around the wide corona, which made the man blow out his breath and take hold of Chucky's head.

"That's it, bitch. Make like it's a super-size candy stick. Your all-day sucker. Get some more into your mouth. See how much you can take, faggot-bastard-pussy-punk."

Chucky's earrings swayed as he moved his head forward and back, taking a bit more each time that he plunged toward the man's crotch. It was surprising to him that he didn't choke when it reached the back of his throat. One of the watchers said something about him being a natural at this, and Chucky had to wonder if it was true. The two observers offered comments.

"It like the ho got a pussy in his face."
"Pretty soon, Jake's big balls gone be on that queer's chin."

When Chucky's nose touched tight dark pubic hair, he couldn't believe it. He was deep-throating Jake. Though none of them were aware of it, at the same moment, that's what Doreen was doing to Buster. Knowing that her husband was being utterly demeaned had gotten her snatch so wet. She edged her lover toward a climax. Chucky did the same to Jake.

The Black man said, "Gone bust my nut."

Then, suiting his actions to those words, he blasted out the contents of his swollen balls. Chucky was on the backstroke with his head, so the whole load spurted into his mouth. Some ran out the sides. Most of it he gagged down. OMG, he was swallowing some anonymous Black man's semen. It was going down into his stomach. He was sickened but still used his hand to milk out any more that remained. Not until he had done a thorough job, did Jake pull out.

Jake said, "Damn fine, fag. You ready for my man Tony's prick?"

Chucky sat back on his haunches. Whether he was prepared for him or not, Tony stepped in to replace Jake. He freed his stick, which was slightly shorter than the first one, and had a smaller head, but featured a wider shaft. Chucky's knees were already getting sore. He lifted the hanging hose and leaned in to lap a pair of balls the size of ripe plums. He couldn't prevent himself from inhaling the man's masculine musk. Under Chucky's skirt, his little dingle twitched. Why was he responding that way? He didn't have time to think about the implications, as he gave Tony's schlong a tongue-bath, before stuffing it into his mouth and down his gullet. This time he took the load while the end was beyond his uvula, so it went straight down his throat. As he sat back, trying not to weep at the indignity he was suffering, Tony was replaced by Junior. This man's name might imply a lesser stature, but when it came to penis dimensions, his was the longest yet, but also the slenderest. Chucky found himself adapting his techniques to accommodate the differences. After lots of mouthing, the man waited until Chucky had freed his member and was hand-pumping it, while teasing the tip with his tongue. He timed his ejaculation to give the novice sucker a generous facial. Cum got all over one eye, Chucky's nose and mouth, and then dripped onto his abbreviated top. He felt a single warm drop land on his bare thigh.

The three men pooled their money, which totaled up to only seven dollars and a few coins. Chucky remembered to thank them, as he stored the money in his purse. He barely had time for his head to stop spinning before two more buyers showed up. They were both athletic and wore muscle shirts and khaki shorts to show off their well-developed limbs. The first one held Chucky's hair while he

pretty much just screwed his face. The other made their victim stand, so he could feel up his ass. When he discovered how laughably small Chucky's dick was, he covered it with his big calloused hand. When he let it go, the organ was as stiff as it had ever been. Its owner was so upset with himself for reacting that way, he began to shed tears, which made his mascara run, leaving dark trails down his flushed cheeks. Then he was put back on his scratched-up knees to demonstrate his newfound skill at sword-swallowing. That guy was a heavy shooter and contributed to the growing mess on Chucky's chin and his bare-midriff top. Between them, these two young bucks gave him five bucks.

Surely there wouldn't be any more takers. Chucky told himself that for two minutes, until a lone interested party arrived. This one, a stallion named Marlon, wanted him to talk. The harried husband had to show enthusiasm, describe what he was doing, and sound as sluttish as possible. For example --

"Oh, Marlon, your beef us delicious. I love the taste of sweat. I'm going to such the knob like I'm starved for it... which I am. And I can't wait for you to -- " What was that phrase they kept using? "-- to bust your nut. I'm so hungry for Black men's cream that can't get enough of it. Give me everything that's in those big beautiful balls, straight out of your Black horse-cock."

It was so strange to hear himself talking like an absolute addict to Black cock, and especially because he couldn't keep from using his most girly voice. On top of everything else, his baby dick refused to get soft. The men kept coming-- and coming. He accommodated cocks in every shade of beige, brown and black. And there was an endless variety of sizes and shapes. He had to

hold one scrotum in his mouth. Another guy wanted his wang kissed all over, while Chucky whispered words of love to it. And there was one who insisted that the kneeling figure not swallow, but keep a heavy load of semen in his mouth, working it around and around and acting like it was a gourmet treat.

Chucky lost track of time and numbers. He didn't know it, but Buster and Doreen had long ago departed. They were back at the Black man's apartment, where they had already enjoyed an hour of intercourse before taking a nap, and then had woken up for a lazy replay of their earlier, more frantic fuck. While they relaxed and recharged, Chucky (aka Sucky) gradually filled his gut with Black men's output, while more slowly filling his purse with their singles. One of them offered him a five but then, when he reached gratefully for it, snatched it away, and walked off laughing, not having left him any cash at all. Another threw a handful of coins onto the filthy asphalt, and Chucky picked up every dirty one of them.

The flow of customers gradually tapered off, until there were only stragglers, some of them very drunk. One pissed against the side of the dumpster, catching Chucky with the splash-back. Dawn arrived at last. Buster and Doreen showed up, just finishing their hot coffee, and bagels slathered with flavored cream cheese. Buster pulled up alongside a weary, cum-spattered, dazed, disheveled and dirty Chucky, whose knees by that time were abraded all over, though not deeply.

"Damn, bitch," Buster exclaimed. "Don't you ever clean up? I can't have you in my car." He held out his mostly empty cup and tipped it, to let the dregs dribble onto Chucky's disarrayed hair.

Doreen leaned across her lover to get a better look. "You're going to have to ride in the trunk, you dirty girl."

Buster popped the trunk lid remotely. Chucky got to his feet slowly, every muscle protesting. He tumbled into the trunk and pulled it closed behind him.

"So," Buster asked Doreen. "You want to head straight back or take a little ride?"

"It's a nice morning. Let's go down Old River Drive."

"Damn. That stretch ain't been repaved for years. There's nothing but bumps."

"I know. Let's see if you can hit every one of them."

So off they drove, so much in love, with their bedraggled cargo getting jogged around endlessly, his stomach full of Black men's cream. And they still had the rest of the day to think up more evil games to play with him.